Sage here - Blogger's not letting me put a picture up. *Thump*
There has been discussion lately about bunnies eating buttons. (Not to be confused with Buttons - one of the cutest buns to ever hop.)
If you want to get your bunny to stop chewing on your buttons - stop making them so tasty and fun to play with.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
*Scuffs floor with forepaw*
'Scuses me Hef.. I knows your hoomans are currently away.. so you're a bit busy.. but I was wonderin'.. if you had plans for Hallowe'en yet?
Y'see the Pet Bunny mailing list buns have a Hallowe'en party every year. An' its wots and wots of fun. There's games, and food and food and food and singing and story telling and food. You can get there by magic carpet or closet portal or even ride a dragon if you're feeling brave! (I go by closet portal.) You gets to dress up! I was thinking of being a penguin or Bugs Bunny or .. okay, I haven't decided at all yet.
Anyways - I was wonderin' if maybe you would be my date? I pwomise to have you home before beds time and not drink too much carrot-shine.
This is a fairly impressive feat, since she's a 5lb bunny, and I have a queen size bed. She pulled off both comforters AND the duvet. When I woke I figured I'd just kicked them off even though I normally toss them to the other side of the bed. The next night, it got repeated. A little more awake this time, I registered the bunny looking quite smug and lounging on the pile of bed clothes. "Yes Sage, I'm sorry I stole your toes. Quit stealing my covers!" That just got a bees in bonnet head shake and a half binky as she got off the duvet. Yeah, yeah, love you too, Princess Fluffybutt.
Speaking of her Fluffybutt.. She likes to play in water. Unfortunately, for her, she doesn't then groom after her playing with water.. so her undercarriage tends to get matty. While combing a bunny's belly is a little less dangerous than combing a cat's.. It's still Not Fun.
In other news, I took up knitting again. I haven't knit a thing in 27 years.. but its amazing how much I remember. With minimal reading of instructions, I was off and running. "In goes the needle, around goes the thread, in goes the needle, off with his head!" (Taught to me by nuns!) My Mum tried to show me how to crochet once, but I'm not getting my head around it. So a trip to the island is in order so she can try again. :)
And while I completely blame a certain needlepointy rabbit slave (You know who I mean!) for the re-addiction, I decided to attempt to relearn on scrap wool, so I posted on Freecycle asking if anyone had any to share. A surprising number of people responded with "Oh sure, some spare needles too!" or "Yeah, I even have some patterns you can have.." or basically any number of ways to add to the addiction. One lady was up the highway 20mins (so a 45m drive) and had a huge bag of wool and things for me. Of course we started talking rabbits and she had to show me her rescues. Over a dozen featheredkids, and five furkids. I fell in love with a little ND. I told her Scout stories, I resisted asking her for him, and went home.
The entire drive home I thought of him. I asked Sage if she wanted a boyfriend. (She thumped and ran away, I figured she was just playing coy.) I talked it over with friends. I thought of it overnight and in the morning phoned the lady. Before I could even ask about stealing him, she started gushing that she'd sat him on the back of the couch like I'd said I'd done with my Scout and he immediately rubbed his head against her cheek and meatloafed beside her. She added, just like my ND, he was happiest when he could see her eyes. .. And she's fallen in love with the little guy who is a foster no longer.
So, little ND is happy, Sage is happy, Mom has to deal. But at least the covers are staying on my bed.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
SHE decided dat SHE needed a hug and snuzzle. As if being cornered and being picked up wasn't bad enough, SHE decided dat my toes needed stealing, my fur needed yanking out and my teefies checked. FANKS BUTTONS.
So she carries me into da wiving room. The Humom turns me onto my BACK and den starts baby talkin' me. Hewwo?! Does dis torture never end?!?! Out come da toe stealers. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. ALL my toes, she cuts dem right off. Baby talkin' da whole time!
DEN she looks at my tail. My perfect, perfect, perfect tail. She then TOUCHES my tail. Do hoomans have no respect or sense of privacy or sense of decency or sense of smell! Or hearing or.. Well, I coulds go on all day about the deficiencies of da furless two foots. She decides dat the fur is all matty. So she.. she.. she.. CUTS FUR OFF MY TAIL! MY FUR!!! MY TAIL!!!!!
..Buttons stinks. Dis is all HIS fault.