THEY'RE NOT PETS TO ME

His neighbours have complained but Jeremy believes it’s his right to reed rabbits to eat

- PIETER VAN ZYL

MAD as a March hare – that’s no doubt how some people might regard him. And you can’t blame them: when it comes to unconventional, this guy is seriously fur real.

From the street, his property in Cape Town’s northern suburbs looks ordinary enough – house, wall, small front yard.

But the illusion hip-hops off as soon as he opens the front door. Jeremy Acton, leader of the Dagga Party, unapologetic muncher of rabbit meat.

“Come in, come in,” he says jovially. “I have something in the oven.”

As you walk in, you’re hit by a heavy smell of marijuana. Three hounds come to greet us: Brenda, a 12-year-old Dachshund; Timmy, a six-year-old Africanis; and eight-year-old Border collie Lady. Jeremy (56) calls her his “sheep dog”, since he’s already accumulated 2kg of her woolly coat, which he hopes “to spin and knit something”.

He walks into the kitchen and removes a roasting pan from the oven. It contains the glistening carcasses of two rabbits, cut into portions and rubbed with curry powder, garlic flakes, sugar, salt, dry chillies and a little olive oil.

These two hail from the ranks of rabbits he breeds in his backyard – which is something the metro council of Cape Town now wants to put a stop to.

The trouble started when a neighbour complained to the council that Jeremy’s swimming pool was dirty. Not so, Jeremy countered. The pool is stocked with fish and he intends using their waste and the algae for aqua farming.

An inspector from the council came to investigate and noticed something else too: a growing colony of rabbits in Jeremy’s 230-square metre backyard.