Our holiday in pictures

All aboard on a lovely winter's morning.



Our charger awaits.





Goodbye Wellington!



There are lollipops and balloon animals onboard.




The ubiquitous colouring competition.




Hello South Island!





Kaikoura has a playground.



The inevitable roadworks.




The inevitable nudey butts!




Dancing with cuzzies at parties.




Driving towards snow-covered mountains.




Walking to the lake.




Cracks? What cracks?




Orla and assorted family members.





Orla whizzing across the ice.




Aidan shows how thick the ice is. (And if it had cracked, we would have been plunged into icy cold water up to our...knees! Or maybe shins).



Ewan wanted to try the earth raisins.




Across the lake.



Perfect morning for an outside coffee! (Yes, the bottom number was the temperature).




Cart ride in the frost.




Soccer.




Never too young to learn to drive!




Going home. The only thing that made Orla smile was me saying "fake farts". Must have been the alliteration.



Tunnels.



The obligatory fuzzy shot of seals.

Rabbit story

We were walking home from school on Monday, much later than usual as Aidan had had a sports programme, and Isabelle a playdate. As we got closer to home, Isabelle exclaimed: "There's a rabbit!"

And so there was. Right there on the gravel next to the footpath, casually nibbling on a fern. My first thought was that it must be wild - it certainly had wild colouring. But as the children oohed and aahed and gently patted it - I thought that it must be a pet. It was only a baby and very clearly in the wrong place.

I assessed matters. I had four children, three bags, a stroller and a loaf of bread. Adding a rabbit to the pile didn't really seem feasible. Leaving it in the arms of fate was untenable. And I had a terrible feeling that if we walked home and came back with the car and a container, we might come back to nothing or squashed road bunny. Realising we were but metres away from a friend's house, we quickly knocked on her door. She was able to provide us with a cardboard carry case. Off we went back up the hill, with Isabelle carrying the rabbit. I carefully explained "the plan": no we could not keep the bunny as it was someone else's and we didn't have a suitable place to keep it. We would try and find its rabbit mother and drop it off at the SPCA in the morning otherwise.

The children were very excited. They really want guinea pigs (well, the big three do) and were so careful with their new charge. The bunny was put in our cat cage, with food and water. I tried to get the children to be quiet around the rabbit, to give it space and a place to hide. They did very well.

Meanwhile....the friend had mentioned that she knew someone nearby who had a new rabbit - she would call them to check this evening. I rang two experienced rabbit mothers for advice, and mentally prepared to put up a "rabbit found" sign on my way out that night.

Bunny seemed happy.




And hooray! During tea we had a phone call and yes, the friend of a friend had lost their rabbit and could they come and see if we had found it? After tea a little girl and mother came and were delighted to be reunited with their pet. It turned out that bunny was Rocky the hare, just 10 weeks old and fresh from a rather unsuccessful first night in his new hutch.

Rocky looked happy but exhausted in his mother's arms (complete with his own leash).




An offer was made to come and visit Rocky at home some time. The children were really pleased about this. I was happy too, so pleased that it turned out that we had done the right thing, and that a trail of happy coincidences had led Rocky back home. The children had had a taste (albeit a tiny one!) of pet ownership, and had proved themselves gentle, empathic and kind.

I really thought that we would have a happy end to this story.

However, it seemed that the adventure was all too much for little Rocky. He died that night.

It was upsetting to the big two, but not overwhelmingly so. It was also sadly true to the pet ownership experience.

RIP little Rocky.