My mother says I trained my bunny, dressed him in doll clothes,and made him lie in my baby carriage while I pushed him around in it. He was almost as big as me, I've seen photos of me holding him in my arms, and he feet reached the ground. My chickens also survived and got fat. My grandmother showed me how to chop off their heads and pluck their feathers for some fine fried chicken... fresh chicken tastes COMPLETELY different from store bought chicken... I do remember that. As an adult I did visit a friend that had chickens and again had fresh chicken...childhood memories of my own chicken came flooding back when I tasted it.