Easter Bunny biology

I pulled this essay by Darksyde off of DailyKos yesterday (thanks to the Panda's Thumb for pointing pointing it out).

Rabbits are mammals of course and at first glance they appear to fall in with squirrels, mice, chipmunks and a bunch of other adorable little critters that make up the most successful order of mammals on earth today: rodents. [...]

More recent anatomical comparison (however) suggests rabbits may not be rodents at all. In fact, they might be an offshoot or close relative of early Artiodactyls like the indohyus on the left. Modern artiodactyls include the largest, most unrabbit-like animals on earth today. But back in the Paleocene they were tiny and some, like mouse deer, still are. With tens of millions of years to work with, it's entirely possible an early artiodactyl or forerunner of same evolved into an order of their own, called Lagomorphs, now represented by rabbits, pikas, and hares. If so, one of the closer extant relatives of petite bunny rabbits would be the great Blue Whale!

So if you noticed that the bunny delivering your Easter-goodies yesterday morning seemed to be a little pre-occupied, it's probably because he was in the middle of a major identity crisis. But while this may be unnerving for the poor rabbits who now may find themselves classified more closely to giraffes and whales, it is a great illustration of how scientific models are constantly changing as new information and ideas become available.

Darksyde does end his essay on a somber note:

Alas...I must report that at present there is no evidence in the fossil record of a mansized, bipedal rabbit creeping around in the wee hours delivering candied eggs or self portraits rendered in sweet chocolate. But...it wasn’t all that long ago, in geologic time, when ancestors of the mammals celebrating Christ's resurrection today sat in the crook of a tree, munching leaves, pondering the primeval world before them with hare-sized brains. Evolution moves in mysterious ways.

Lagomorphs are highly social and quick on their feet. They breed fast, they evolve fast, and they can live patiently underground in sand, soil, or snow nibbling at dead roots and fallen leaves, while the world above convulses in nuclear holocaust or climatic catastrophe. Given time, who can say what the distant future holds for our lovable long-eared friends? So let’s not count out Peter Cottontail, or something a heck of a lot scarier, just yet.