A childhood belief about swearing

When my younger brother was about three years old or so, my grandparents found a rabbit and kept it in their backyard. My grandpa hated that rabbit. He never called it anything besides "son of a bitch." (Which is a bit odd, I think, considering that female dogs are bitches, not female rabbits.) So when, one day, that rabbit ran away, my grandpa proved what an influence he had on my younger brother. My little 3-year-old brother wandered around for the longest time, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Come back, you son of a bitch!" He thought that was the rabbit's name.