N. Korea Hops to Giant-Rabbit Breeding

LONDON, Feb. 1, 2007 — -- Not everything is as it seems in Carl Szmolinsky's backyard.

Rabbits in hutches snack on kale, while others twitch their noses. Szmolinsky shuffles around, wearing dirty sweat pants and a vest emblazoned with the colors of the local rabbit breeders' chapter.

Just another senior citizen in Germany with an unusual hobby? Hardly. This man may hold the answer to the chronic food shortage in North Korea.

In his hand is a giant rabbit named Robert II.

Szmolinsky is a big guy, but next to his rabbit, he looks like a shrimp. From the tip of his nose to the fluff on his tail, Robert II is more than 2 feet long and weighs 17 pounds. At just 1 year old, he's not yet fully grown.

Robert II is a giant rabbit, a prime specimen of the German Grey breed. He's got pedigree and he's got Szmolinsky regularly filling his food bowl with kale, boiled potatoes and dried parsley -- apparently an appetite stimulant.

Though Szmolinsky may be 68 years old, he coos like a teenage girl as he kisses his rabbits and strokes their fur. Apparently a lot of love is another secret to success in the world of giant-rabbit breeding.

The rabbits, however, aren't allowed to love one another. In Szmolinsky's yard, there's strict segregation of sexes.

"They get flustered easily," if they're allowed contact, Szmolinsky said. "They ruffle the hay. We want to avoid that, because when they are restless they don't put on any weight."

But what brought an attache from the North Korean Embassy in Berlin to Szmolinsky's front door?

It all started last year when Robert, father of Robert II, won the title of "Germany's Biggest Rabbit."

The prized rabbit tipped the scales at a whopping 22 pounds. A South Korean children's television show ran a feature story about the giant animal.

North Korean officials in Pyongyang caught the show, and an idea was sparked. Days later, that attache's convoy of Mercedes S-Class limousines screeched to a halt outside Szmolinsky's front door.