When Robin and I first started working together I would often visit her at her parent's home. All was fine and cordial, save for the pet of her little sister, a forty pound lop-earred rabbit called Leo. Leo was not of the mind set of other little furry, lovable bunnies. Leo was big and a bully to boot, and he was given free roam of the house, much to the consternation of guests of which I was one.
BUT, for some odd reason, Leo liked me. He would thunder down the hallway, his ears hanging down and charge at me like I was waving a red cape. Then he would press his massive head between my knees, and I would be encouraged to scratch his long flopping ears for seemingly hours.
It was during these moments that I would consider the fact that maybe, just maybe, he was a bully because with his ears going down instead of up, he didn't feel normal. Four million plus copies later, I still don't know for sure.