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"He LOVES to be handled and held," Bodi's Mom Zana said yesterday. She showed me how to sit behind her little bunny and rub his entire body from front to back. And indeed, he did seem to enjoy it as I ran one hand, then the other, from the tip of his nose all the way to his tail, cupping his tiny body as I did so.

Well that was YESTERDAY, when Mom was looking.

This morning, sitting in my living room in a patch of sunlight, little Bodi took my offerings of organic basil, nectarine, and broccoli. But when I squatted down--slowly, mind you, I'm not an idiot--to stroke his little body, Body hopped off, stomping one rear foot as he moved away. As he did so, I think I overheard the "F-word."

"Okay, give him more time to adjust," I said to myself.

So just now, four hours later, I walk in to the living room to check on the little man, sitting happily by the door. Six feet from him, I sit on the floor and inch slowly forward, whispering his name softly. "Hey, Bodi. Hey, little one." My tiger cat Fat Boy stretches out on the table beside us, his head hanging over the edge. He is rapt.

I offer the back of my hand for Bodi to sniff, and then stroke his little body. Aahhh....there you go. He relaxes as I continue, and the three of us -- my cat, my foster rabbit, and me -- sit happily in the sun of this beautiful October day for a full ten minutes. But when I try to pick him up ("He loves it!" Zana promises), Bodi CHOMPS down on my hand, nearly drawing blood.

Now I'm saying the f-word.

Evidently, this relationship is going to be on HIS terms....