[memories evoked by the Sunday Scribblings prompt "Collector Personality]
My younger brother had a collection of rabbits, but not live ones.
It all started with a small wooden rabbit made in Africa that my parents brought home from a trip to New York City and a visit to the United Nations Building. I think it was from Kenya. It was dark wood with sleek lines. It really looked fast and it felt good to the hand. The next time my parents took a trip and asked if there was anything we wanted them to bring home, my brother asked for another rabbit.
After that, they started multiplying, yes, like rabbits. Family and friends of the family loved adding to the collection. He had rabbits made of glass, ceramic, wood, and stone. Some were tiny; others were a bit bigger. They came from all over the country and all over the world. Most of the time the rabbits lived on the dresser in my brother's room.
One spring (around Easter time) the local newspaper came and took a picture of my brother with his collection. Mom had moved the rabbits to the living room. There was one problem with having them in the living room. The low display table they were on put them within easy reach of my nephew who was then three years old. All the little shiny rabbits were very attractive to the little guy. Alert adults kept him away from the table, sometimes by a narrow margin.
Finally my nephew got lucky. He launched himself at the tabletop full of rabbits and actually reached it, knocking over most of the bunnies.
Rabbits were everywhere. One little glass bunny that had been in a glass bottle lost that bottle but came out with both ears in place. Some, however, needed the most common rabbit surgery, one at which we had become proficient. That surgery is best described as ear re-attachment. Some rabbits had one ear snapped off, a few had lost both, but all were reattached with a bit of glue and patience.
The collection came through largely unscathed and stayed out at least until my brother went to college. I'll have to ask him if he still has it today.