One rabbit. one life. and many traps. i'm seven years old, it's my birthday, and my mom gets me a rabbit. i was in paroxysms of joy. until the following day when i rushed out to play with him before school and discovered that getting a rabbit for your birthday essentially means getting an uncommunicative, uninterested pet that continually generates a stream of unpleasant chores and will never, ever thank you for scraping out the poo enamel it's trying to lay on the floor of its hutch. maybe that's why i get some sort of mean-spirited pleasure out of this weird little arcade avoidance game about a rabbit continually trying and failing to reunite with the object of his affections. i have a lot of weird stories about rabbit ownership; i suspect if you grew up in rural canada, you probably do, too.
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