Three rabbits called Steve and their search for identity

Once upon a time there were three rabbits. Their names were Steve the Rabbit, Steve the Rabbit and, yes you’ve guessed it, Steve the Rabbit.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering ‘how will I ever follow a story when all the main characters are rabbits called Steve? I’ll get all confused about who’s doing what.’

But think how hard it must have been if you actually were one of the rabbits, who’d all come running if anyone shouted ‘Come here Steve the Rabbit’, only for two of them to be disappointed and the person doing the calling feeling rather confused.

It was even worse for the three rabbits’ friends, for not only were the rabbits all called Steve, they all looked very much alike as well. If you met one of them you could say ‘Hello Steve the Rabbit’ and be sure of having gotten his name right, but you’d be afraid of saying much more, as you’d be unsure if this was the Steve the Rabbit that was hopping so much yesterday that his feet were hurting; the Steve the Rabbit who didn’t come out of his burrow all day yesterday because he was worried his ears looked too big; or the Steve the Rabbit who spent the whole of yesterday complaining that it was going to rain, although it never did.

What would you say? If you said “nice to see you out of the house today Steve,” he might say, “but I’m always out of the house, I hate to be stuck at home” or if you said “it’s turned out nice again hasn’t it Steve?” he might say “it might be nice to you but you’ve got perfectly normal ears.”

The forest animals gathered together to work out a way to address the three Steve problem. It was decided that Arnie the Owl, who was said to be particularly wise, should advise them. A meeting was arranged.

“What if you all had different names” Arnie suggested, “you could be Stevie, you could be Stephen and you could be Steve.”

“I’m happy to be Steve,” said Steve the Rabbit, jumping up and down gleefully at his new name. “I’ve always been Steve the Rabbit and I think I’m rather good at it.”

But the other rabbits were not so obliging.

“I’m not Stephen, I’m Steve,” said Steve the Rabbit, with his arms folded crossly.

“I’m not Stevie, I’m Steve,” said Steve the Rabbit, with his ears twitching angrily.”

“But we need to be able to tell you apart,” said the wise old owl, “you’re identical in every way.”

The three rabbits left the owl, only to find themselves feeling rather depressed. “I hate being the same as everybody else,” thought Steve the Rabbit, “I thought nobody could jump and leap like I can, now I find that I’m no more leapy or jumpy than Steve or Steve.”

“I hate being the same as everybody else,” thought Steve the Rabbit, “especially when my ears are so much bigger than everybody elses.”

“I hate being the same as everybody else,” thought Steve the Rabbit, “especially as it could rain at any minute and I’d get soaked.”

Steve the Rabbit became so depressed he did nothing but jump up and down for hours on end, without even pausing to say ‘hello’ to any passing animal.

Steve the Rabbit became so depressed all he did was mope around complaining about the weather being unpredictable.

Steve the Rabbit became so depressed he refused to leave the house and would just stare at the reflection of his ears in the bathroom mirror for hours on end.

The other forest animals correctly identified that the three Steve the Rabbits were suffering from existential angst, brought on by the deflation of their identify and self-worth brought on by owl’s intervention.

In the end the forest animals, feeling guilty about having gotten owl involved, decided to club together and send Steve, Steve and Steve to counselling with Sherry the not particularly wise, but very shrewd shrew.

“I’m feeling rather depressed,” said Steve the Rabbit, “I have an identity crisis. I used to think I was the best rabbit in the world at leaping, now I realise I’m no different from any other rabbit. I’ve got genuine existential angst.” “And my feet hurt,” he added.

Sherry the not particularly wise, but very shrewd shrew, listened carefully to what Steve the Rabbit said. “Hmm, I can see that you’re stressed, but I’m afraid I may not be able to do anything about your existential angst. However,” she added brightly, “I can fix your aching feet,” and so saying she handed him a pair of especially springy trainers.

“Hurray,” shouted Steve the Rabbit, leaping up and down with glee, “with my new trainers I can hop and hop and hop and hop and hop and my feet don’t hurt.

As Steve the Rabbit hopped happily out of the counselling room the next Steve the Rabbit went in.

“I’m feeling rather depressed,” said Steve the Rabbit, “I have an identity crisis. I hate looking just like all the other Steve the Rabbits, especially when my ears are so much bigger than theirs.”

Sherry the not particularly wise, but very shrewd shrew, listened carefully to what Steve the Rabbit said. “Hmm, I can see that you’re stressed, but I’m afraid I may not be able to do anything about your existential angst. However,” she added brightly, “I can fix your ears. All you need to do is where this hat,” and so saying she handed him a particularly fetching purple beret.

“Hurray,” shouted Steve the Rabbit, “with my purple hat nobody need ever know I even have ears at all.”

As Steve the Rabbit hopped happily out of the counselling room the next Steve the Rabbit went in.

“I’m feeling rather depressed,” said Steve the Rabbit, “I have an identity crisis. I hate looking just like all the other Steve the Rabbits, especially when the weather in this country is so unreliable. You never know whether or not it’s going to rain. I’ve got genuine existential angst.”

Sherry the not particularly wise, but very shrewd shrew, listened carefully to what Steve the Rabbit said. “Hmm, I can see that you’re stressed, but I’m afraid I may not be able to do anything about your existential angst. However,” she added brightly, “I can fix your weather worries,” and so saying she handed him a particularly fetching bright red rain mac and matching wellies.

“Hurray,” shouted Steve the Rabbit, “with my red raincoat and wellies I needn’t ever worry about the weather,” and so saying he hopped happily out of the counselling room.

The especially good thing was that with the purple hat, the swanky trainers and the bright red mac their friends never had trouble telling the three Steve the Rabbits apart ever again.

And with their identity crisis over the three rabbits were ready for their next adventure.