Perhaps I was five years old when I spoiled my sister’s rabbit. It was made of a sort of pink velvet. It had long ears which were quite pretty.
One evening I put the rabbit close up to my sister’s cup of cocoa with the ears dripping over the rim into the cocoa. The lovely pink ears came out a dirty brown. My father, who was presiding over the evening cocoa, looked perplexed about the rabbit and about my action. He tried holding he ears under the cold tap but the stains remained. The ears later became quite hard, perhaps it was the sugar . . . .
Elizabeth Jolley, Meanjin 2010, Who Talks of Victory