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Bunnies are cute. Bunnies are sweet. Bunnies are gentle. No way, no how, could there really be such a thing as a killer bunny. Right?

That’s what I used to think. . .

Several years ago my parents asked me to bunny-sit for them for the weekend while they went for a minibreak. Of course, I agreed. I mean, how hard could it be to look after one little bunny who had the entire expanse of the garage to live in? (Yes, the bunny got the garage, along with bunny toys and a deluxe bunny bed. The car got the driveway. My parents wanted the bunny to have a nice life with lots of space.)

“He’s a bit, er, frisky,” my mother warned me, as she got ready to leave the house. “A bit, um, aggressive. Sometimes,” she added.

“But totally harmless,” interrupted my father rather quickly, as he hurried mum out of the door, suitcase in hand.

A little while later it was time to feed Bunny and make sure he had plenty of hay for his deluxe bed. But bearing in mind my mother’s apprehension, I peered through the open garage door before stepping over the bunny gate my father had installed. Just in case of an aggressive bunny moment.

He was in the far corner, hopping around, gently playing with his bunny toys and doing bunny stuff. So I stepped over the little gate and headed to fill Bunny’s bowl with bunny food, along with a nice chopped apple as a treat.

I turned my back on Bunny to reach for the bowl. Big mistake. Because several seconds later I heard this growl. Followed by a thumping bunny-feet kind of sound. I turned around and Bunny was galloping towards me, big eyes flashing and totally focused on me, bunny teeth bared.

The bionic woman had nothing on me as I leaped over the bunny gate into the safety of the garden.

I spent the weekend gingerly putting clean bowls of food and water just over the bunny gate. I wasn’t risking a second encounter! I vowed never to look after a bunny ever again in my life. It was just too dangerous!

Fast forward to the current day.

I am currently Somewhere in London – you got it – bunny sitting again. This time for my lovely sister who is on vacation somewhere nice and hot.

“They’re really sweet and friendly,” Lovely Sister told me as she and her best friend prepared to leave the premises on Saturday night.

“No trouble at all,” Best Friend assured me, as I compiled a bunny To Do list for while they were away.

We-el. Guess what?

I swear that one of the bunnies is a reincarnation of my parents’ bunny, because every time I open one of the doors of the two-tier deluxe bunny home to either give it food or clean the litter tray (the bunnies are well trained) it comes at me. Teeth included.

I think those Monty Python boys had a point. . .

Holy Grail – attack of the killer rabbit.

Michelle, convinced that rabbits are not the meek creatures they make themselves out to be!

PS. No small, furry rodents were harmed for the writing of this blog.