Our contrasting treatment of mammals hit home last week. I simultaneously roasted a large leg of lamb while busting a gut to move two pet rabbits across town. Looking back, I wish I'd hiffed the rabbits in the oven too.
Gen Xers are a powerful and sexy generation. We are ruthless and cynical. No one can tell us what to do or say. Our only weaknesses are a love of horrific '90s music, talking too much about Star Wars, booze, sugar and our soft spot for animals.
The generations before us were hardcore. If a dog looked sideways at my Boomer dad, it was around the back of the shed and goodbye, Fido. My father would be shocked if he knew I'd spent $1800 on Hunga's stomach problem. Don't tell him. It's embarrassing. A Boomer would have let that bunny die. Might have even cooked her up. I respect the hell out of that.
On Friday, I borrowed the work ute to move Harry and Hunga. Things immediately turned to crap. A hose mishap soaked my pants with freezing water. A rogue piece of chicken wire slit one of my wrists as I tried to free the cage from some stubborn Kikuyu.
In response, I kicked the side of the house, causing considerable damage to my big toe. My nephew volunteered to help and immediately skinned his shin on a piece of corrugated iron. The painful bunny relocation operation took more than two hours. Then the ultimate insult: I had to purchase $80 worth of straw and pellets from the pet store.
My nephew and I went through hell for Harry and Hunga. While we chauffeur the two of them around town, their mates are eating their way through the South Island, turning productive farmland into bare ground.
If only we had more Boomer in us. A Boomer wouldn't turn up with a heavily branded work truck to move a couple of rabbits. A Boomer would have turned up with a .22 and sorted out the rabbit problem once and for all.
It's not just mammals that we are giving a free ride. My kids had a goldfish called Apple. He was big, and so was his tank.
Cleaning it was a major job, but I was happy to do it - I loved that guy. When Apple died, I spoke at his funeral.
"We are here to mark the passing of Apple, he was a good fish, he was a big fish, he swam around, one day he jumped out of the tank onto the floor, I picked him up, put him back in the tank. He swam on his side for a bit and then came right.
"Love you, Apple rest in peace."
Beautiful words (I recorded the service. If you want the audio). The kids cried as we lowered our beloved big orange fish into the earth beneath a feijoa tree. That afternoon we went fishing and caught three snapper and kahawai. I filleted them metres from Apple's empty tank.
My wrist and toe still hurt from injuries sustained moving Harry and Hunga.
Those rabbits have cost me thousands in food, housing and vet bills. Should I channel the energy of generations before and finish them off? Probably, but I won't. Why? They're too cute.
Especially Harry. He's so nice to cuddle.
