Well, yes, I did and I used to love
the smell of simmering rabbit seasoned with rosemary and other spices.
Which brings to mind the Easter that my dad decided to bring a live
one home to slaughter for Easter.
Bugs as we called her came to us
several weeks before Easter. She was really big and my sister, brother
and I took a liking to her. My sister, Theresa, especially became attached
and told my father that he could not kill her. My father grumbled about
it and told us not to worry. But we did. After all, he grew up on a
farm, and we knew that there was a big possibility that Bugs was going
to end up in the pot.
Dad promised to set Bugs free, as
we could not keep her. One day after a teary good-bye, he left with
Bugs with a promise to set her free in a field. We lived in New York
City at the time. I wondered where that field could be?
At Easter dinner when we all sat
down to eat, mom served as usual many tempting Italian dishes, including
rabbit. The three of us looked at each other. Bugs! "No,"
my father insisted. " This is not Bugs. I bought this at the store."
We did not eat it, though, because we were not convinced that this was
not our beloved pet.
Still today, if asked, my father
insists that Bugs was set free.
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