SNACK TIME: June Morsels
A eulogy for my beloved sister + how to talk to toddlers about death
Welcome to Snack Time! A monthly series that takes a break from the regularly scheduled munch meal planning to share some of the best things I’ve consumed this past month (edible and otherwise).
I had a different recap of my month planned for today, but then my sister, the heart and soul of our family, passed away unexpectedly on Saturday.
My sister, mind you, is a rabbit. So it’s a particular brand of grief that we are experiencing—one reserved for pets that we know will not grow old with us, but whose companionship and love is hard to live without all the same.
So let me take moment to eulogize the very special #ElderBun that was Dorothy Alfalfa Fluffernut (of the Rhode Island Fluffernuts).
Back in 2020, when PetFinder.com almost buckled under the weight of search demand, like many other lonely, stir-crazy individuals, my mother was hunting for a rabbit.
She grew up with rabbits, which meant that I grew up with rabbits. And over the years, she developed a great many opinions about rabbits. So while she wanted a rabbit, she wouldn’t accept just any rabbit.
Dwarfs were out, as were ghastly lops. She didn’t like them too small, but also declared in a fit of frustration: “the last thing I want is a 9-pound rabbit!”
After months of online toiling, a listing for “Diablo” crossed her desk. He checked all the boxes and was located not too far from Martha’s Vineyard—in Wyoming, Rhode Island. My mom put on her N95 mask and traveled to the mainland.
When her Uber pulled up to the shelter, the rabbit she was introduced to was not the rabbit in the PetFinder photo. Diablo was a (gasp) 9-pound rabbit. Diablo was also a she.
My mom returned with the rabbit anyway and allowed me to bestow upon her a new name—Dorothy Alfalfa Fluffernut—and thus began the tide change of this rabbit’s rags to riches story.


We don’t know how old she was at the time, but we do know that Dorothy had been kept in a small cage for almost her entire life. She was terrified of being picked up, had never eaten a fresh vegetable, and was arthritic from being so sedentary.
My mom quickly got her on a steady diet of salad and hay, and began a very elaborate cardio and calisthenics routine that involved running laps up and down the hallway as my parents yelled “dip dip” three octaves above normal vocal range.
Dorothy lost a few pounds and became a bun transformed.
As my friend put it: this old girl lived like the Queen of Sheba and ruled the family as such. No matter what time of night she got home, my mother would ensure that Dorothy got her daily 1 hour massage in front of the TV, where she would enjoy a rare Brussels sprout, sugar snap pea, or other novelty item.
She redecorated the house with fervor, systematically eating antique rugs and chewing through every cord she came across that hadn’t been placed in clear PVC tubing for protection.
Her greens were double washed from the farmer’s market and if they had been wilting in the fridge for a few days, she would refuse them. She was well aware of her standing in the household and like a true queen knew how to dole out and withhold affection to bend you to her will.
Every night before the light was turned off, she would be told that she was “the most beautiful bun in the world.” So absolute was this part of the routine, it was written into the three pages of pet sitter instructions.
As I learned from the buns of my childhood, not every rabbit is a fan of children. Skittish animals don’t tend to love humans that are pushy, unpredictable and lack any voice modulation abilities.
And yet, Dorothy was always the best aunt—so tolerant of my munch. She was my daughter’s favorite facet of my parents house and she gave her so many treats, Dorothy would actually get sick of them and hide.
Like a good neurotic horse girl, I’ve spoken to many pet psychics over the years. There are certain animals that are just too smart, wise and dynamic to be from this earthly plain, and though I never talked to a “professional” about Dorothy, everyone who had the pleasure of feeding her a sprig of parsley would agree that she was operating on a higher frequency than most buns (and not just because she was not a dwarf lop!).
Anyway, it feels irrational to be so sad over a rodent, and still, we are devastated. I was back on Martha’s Vineyard for a quick 48 hours last week to drop off some stuff we didn’t want to lug to Spain, and I’m grateful that I got to have one last visit with her before things took a turn a few days later.
I’m also grateful to have another month before I have to explain to my daughter why bun bun is no longer around. If anyone has any advice on how to talk to toddlers about death, please weigh in in the comments.
In the meantime, let’s light a candle, eat a carrot, and pour out some triple filtered water for Dorothy.
Happy munching,
Phoebe
WHAT YOU MISSED
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ME TIME
(Everything I’m watching and reading)
Disclosure Day (Movie): On Father’s Day, we treated ourselves to an adult afternoon at the movies, and the new Spielberg alien encounter did not disappoint! The plot didn’t entirely make sense, but there’s enough brilliant filmmaking and inflections of humor to distract from the loose ends. Also, Josh O’Connor’s press tour has taken over my algorithm and I think I might be in love with him? Rodent hot has never been my type, but things evolve!
Rafa (TV): Speaking of men I’m in love with…there’s a new docuseries on Netflix about the clay court GOAT, who also happens to be my husband. I know that may surprise some of you, especially since I was not interviewed in the film, but we have been in a secret (one sided) relationship since I was in college. I thought I knew everything there was to know about my love, but the documentary had some interesting color on how he became the champion he is, and questions whether the (emotionally abusive) training he received from a young age would fly in today’s climate that recognizes the importance of mental health in sports. Was it worth it? Watch and decide.
Sandwich (Book): I’ve been a longtime fan of Catherine Newman’s Substack Crone Sandwich, and a few months ago finally tore through her much-acclaimed novel about a mother on vacation with her family in Cape Cod, confronting the emotional stew that is empty-nesting and longing for the babies that grew up in front of her and the ones she never got to meet. It’s a rather quiet (yet hilarious) study of family dynamics. Even though I am a generation behind, I felt so many pangs of recognition. It’s a fantastic easy beach read about domestic love, menopause, grief and, of course, sandwiches.
Dolly All the Time (Book): I am a new-ish convert to the romance genre. One of the books I was told to start with was Annabel Monaghan’s Nora Goes Off Script. I’ve since read and loved everything Annabel has written. Her books are always tender, wise and funny. I’m so thrilled that her latest Dolly is having a moment. It’s the most similar in some ways to Nora—a single mother who falls for a rich, famous man—but doubles down on some additional romance tropes (beachside setting, fake dating, etc.). It’s delightful!
I’m currently reading Julia Turshen’s Down to Earth, which is an utterly charming queer romance set on a farm in upstate NY. Here is my stack for Spain, and some others that I’m excited to dive into on Kindle include: Jessica Knoll’s Helpless and Alan Opts Out by Courtney Maum (side note: I love this cover so much, I used it on my inspo board for WIFE!).
You seem pretty sad for a girl so in love (Listen): I have been listening to the new Olivia Rodrigo on REPEAT. My favorite tracks are Purple, Maggots for Brains, The Cure, and What’s Wrong with Me, which is a duet with megaband The Cure’s frontman. I love the way her music blends 80’s and 90’s nostalgia with the silky pop vocals of today.
Separately, I also loved this piece on Substack about Parenting with OCD.




JUNE ESSENTIALS
A few things I purchased for our Spain trip for myself and munch.
This sunscreen that goes on super smooth and does not smell bad.
These SPF pants from Patagonia to go with the many pullovers she already has in this material. We’re a pale bunch over here and not even 100 degree F Spain temperatures will get us to put on a tank top!
This embroidered skirt (and top!) to mix and match. Airy, light weight, a touch bohemian and perfect for travel.
You will often hear people say they’ve found the perfect T-shirt, but really, this is the one. At my age, I love a slightly boxy cropped cut that is still long enough to cover my stomach, and sleeves that cover the majority of my upper arms. I will possibly be buying this one in every color.
MONTHLY ASK
Per the first part of this email, I would love any tips on how you talk to toddlers about death. We will need all the pro tips before we descend on bun bun’s room, where bun bun no longer resides.









You have to lie. Toddlers can't understand death - and why should they? We don't. So, tell your toddler anything - Bun went back to live with her bunny mother, her family -- something like that.
She was not a rodent, I say gently, but a lagomorph.