Despite Hollywood takes on the zombie apocalypse and the popularity of streaming hits like “The Last of Us,” there’s no obvious signs in Minnesota that the end of the world as we know it is upon us — unless, of course, you count the Frankenstein rabbits.
For decades, horned and tusked rabbits have been spotted throughout the Twin Cities, Wisconsin and a few other states as far away as Colorado and New York, circulating in the wild with faces full of dark, gnarly tentacle-like growths. In pictures circulating the Internet, some protrusions look to be several inches long, like a horror movie rendition of Pinocchio as depicted by bunnies.
The Frankenstein rabbits, as it were, have become a common sight in some St. Paul neighborhoods. Some residents say they’re on the decline. Others, on the uptick.
“I’ve got a couple in my backyard in the North End,” writes a Pioneer Press reader, in reaction to a recent picture on social media. “About five years ago, all the rabbits in Highland looked like this. Now, not very many,” writes another. “We have these in Merriam Park,” writes yet another. “Got a couple in MacGrove.”
“A few years ago I used to see rabbits in my yard that looked like they had little antlers between their ears but haven’t seen them lately,” said St. Paul writer and editor Ann Harrington, who surmised a pair of red tail hawks nesting in her yard this spring may have scared them away, or worse.
“Ever since I started paying attention to it in 2020 I’ve noticed it’s been consistently prevalent in the Twin Cities,” said Zach Portman, a naturalist and bee taxonomist at the University of Minnesota who has photographed the infected rabbits at length. “It does seem to wax and wane, but I’d say as a rough estimate I see it on one out of every 10 to 20 rabbits I come across in St. Paul.”
A wild rabbit bearing horn-like protrusions made an appearance in recent years in the back porch of a house in St. Paul’s MacGroveland neighborhood (Courtesy of Kari Coad)
Shope papilloma virus
While their appearance might resemble the stuff of dark fiction, the Shope papilloma virus is a well-documented and potentially fatal reality for rabbit kind. Also known as the cottontail rabbit papilloma virus, the once-rare condition (vaguely comparable to HPV in humans) causes large facial lesions — as well as unsightly growths on necks, heads and abdomens — which can either regress or become cancerous with time. When the tumors interfere with eating, some rabbits starve to death. Most come out OK.
“The growths will typically go away on their own,” reads a June 2025 statement shared on social media by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources Division of Fish and Wildlife. “Let nature run its course.”
Officials with the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center of Minnesota, which is based in Roseville, said Thursday that they were not in a position to estimate whether the condition was increasing or decreasing in frequency in the Twin Cities metro.
They’ve cared for seven rabbits with the virus this year — including one brought in from Rochester, Minn. with ripped growths and exposed ear cartilage — but have none currently in their care. The protrusions do tend to get caught on fences as the bunnies scurry under them.
WRC “receives quite a few calls each year from members of the public who are concerned about rabbits with Shope papilloma growths,” said Brittney Yohannes, a spokesperson for the center, in an email. “This is not a virus that can be cured, and because it is a virus, it cannot be treated with antibiotics. The virus can stay dormant in the rabbit’s body, so it does not respond well to antiviral medications.”
“The good news is that rabbits can cope with this condition, often for years,” she added. “The growths are not painful and usually do not bother the rabbits.”
Jackalope myth
For domestic rabbits infected with the virus, experts urge early veterinary intervention, including surgical removal of the growths and post-surgical monitoring.
The DNR pointed out that the tusk-like rabbit syndrome is likely at least one origin of the decades-old jackalope myth, in which hunters have claimed to have spotted or even killed jackrabbits sporting antlers. In the 1930s, a couple of yuckster taxidermists in Wyoming mounted a rabbit’s head on their wall like a hunting trophy, with antlers affixed, and jackalope tales and desk mounts have circulated ever since.
Around the same time, the condition was officially catalogued by noted virologist and University of Iowa alumnus Richard Shope, who in 1933 documented the tusk-like abnormalities in Midwestern cottontails, though they’re not limited to that species.
Why have Frankenstein rabbits appeared to proliferate in recent years? That’s probably related to an increase in cottontails, which had “a booming year” last year, according to the DNR.
Insects and climate play a role. Transmission occurs through mosquito and tick bites, according to medical websites such as PetMD.com, and picks up in the warmer months.
That said, not every corner of the state has shared the same experience with apocalyptic Jackalope Franken-rabbits.
“I’ve never seen it,” said Midge Johnson of Nord Lake Rabbitry in Aitkin, Minn., about two hours north of the Twin Cities, who has been raising rabbits for sale since 1979. “It’s not common.”