Michael Gage

Clarissa says that if we're going to research the family history, we have to start right at the beginning. So here goes...

In the beginning, there was nothing.

So the rabbits just sat round eating carrots, and enjoying the Paleozoic sunshine.


Then along came the dinosaurs.



Rabbits quickly adapted to the new situation, and learnt to run...

...Fast.

Charcoal on paper, 80 x 50cm approx.

We've just been to visit Nigel Floppyears in hospital. Clarissa took one of her special carrot cakes, and I took the family photo albums that I found in the library.

"This is Grandfather Robert Rabbit," I said. "Back in eighteen-hundred-and-something, he opened the world's first carrot factory."


"This is the machine he invented: they put the raw ingredients in one end, and the carrots came out of the other end."


"Here are some of the factory workers, with a box of the 'World's Finest Machinemade Carrots' as Grandfather called them."


"Did he make a lot of money?" said Nigel.

"Grandmother Rabbit said he wasted the family fortune on the 'World's Finest Mad Idea'. But I can't see where it went wrong: everyone likes carrots."

"This machine that he invented... What were the raw ingredients they put in?"

"I can't quite make it out from the photograph."

Nigel peered closely. "Oh, you silly rabbit. Look: they're putting carrots in. They put carrots in one end of the machine, and out the other end came the same carrots. The machine did nothing. No wonder your Grandfather lost all his money. Is everyone in your family as cracked as he was?"

"Eat your cake," I said.

Yesterday was a busy morning in the burrow. Clarissa was cooking lunch; Nigel Floppyears was decorating; and I was working hard in the studio. I had just picked up my brush, when I heard a terrific crash from the other end of the burrow. Seconds later, Clarissa rushed in.

"Nigel's fallen off his ladder!" We ran into the bedroom. Nigel was lying on the floor, and paint had splashed everywhere.

Clarissa hurried to the telephone to call for an ambulance.

Minutes later, the paramedics arrived, and put Nigel on a stretcher.

The ambulance screeched off, its siren blasting away.

We hopped after the ambulance to the hospital. By the time we arrived, Nigel was already tucked up in bed, with Doctor Rabbit and Nurse Rabbit at his side. Doctor Rabbit looked very serious.

"Stand back everyone, this rabbit is turning pink. I think he's turning into a pig -- It must be swine flu!"


"He's not turning into a pig!" said Clarissa. "That's pink paint -- He's been decorating!"

"No!" cried Doctor Rabbit. "Swine flu is dangerous, and highly contagious. You must keep well away."

The door opened, and Nigel's little dog Winston ran in.

"Get that dog out of here," shouted Nurse Rabbit. "We can't have animals in this hospital!"

Before she could do anything, Winston ran to the bed, gave Nigel's face a big doggy lick -- and the pink disappeared.

"Ah -- the, er, illness, appears to have, er, gone into remission," said Doctor Rabbit. "No need to panic about swine flu after all. I don't know why you were all so worried."

Nigel's staying in hospital for a day or two to get over his fall. Meanwhile, Clarissa and I are working out how to get pink paint off Winston's tongue.

The rabbits are on parade today!
Hurray, hurray!

After the excitement of discovering the old photographs of the family, I hopped off to our library at the back of the burrow to find out more about the bunnies in my past.

I was soon buried deep in the dusty books and old diaries and albums of faded photographs. You won't believe some of things I found out! I was just reading the scurrilous adventures of Grandpa Scutter, who was a sailor on the high seas, when I heard Clarissa calling "Dinner time!"

She put her head round the library door. "Oh, there you are! Good heavens, what's that on your nose?"

"It's a pair of spectacles. Someone had used them as a bookmark. I think they make me look quite intellectual."

"Hrrmph!" said Clarissa. "Your dinner's on the table."

This morning, we were clearing out part of the burrow, ready to decorate it (though we still haven't decided what colour), when Clarissa found a box of old photographs.

"Who are these rabbits?" she said, "They look so funny in their old clothes." (You can click on the picture above to see the photos more clearly.)

"The one in the top hat is my Grandpa Robert. I was named after him."

"I'm going to work out your family tree," said Clarissa, laying out the photographs on the table.

"I don't think we have a family tree. We're rabbits; we live in burrows, not trees."

"No; look at this. There's your grandparents at the top, then your parents in the middle, and then you at the bottom. It's a hierarchy."

"If I'm at the bottom, does that mean I'm the lowerarchy?" I said.

Clarissa rolled her eyes. "I know what we'll do. Over the next few days, we'll try to find out more about your ancestors, and you can draw pictures of them."

Since we started putting pictures of Naughty Kitten on this interwebby thing, people from all over the world have been looking at them, and the fame has completely gone to his head!

In the early hours of this morning, I was awoken by Naughty Kitten running into the bedroom, and shouting, "Has the postman been? I haven't missed him, have I?"

"Go away," I mumbled under my blanket. "It's three o'clock. Of course the postman hasn't been yet."

"Oh, thank goodness! I'm expecting the contract to come today."

I poked one ear out. "What contract?"

Naughty Kitten jumped on the bed. "From Hollywood! I'm waiting for a contract from them. I'm so famous now, I expect they will want to make a film of my life!"

I turned over and went back to sleep. The contract didn't arrive this morning, but to keep Naughty Kitten happy, I drew this picture of what he might look like at the premiere of his film.