The Life and Times of Bunnies

As we all know, this is my house. Mine. (Dad sometimes forgets this.)

Naturally, I have no problem with just flopping wherever I want to, since after all, this is my house.

Dad thought I was being “weird” when he saw me lying in the middle of the hallway, but really, it’s not weird at all. It’s my house, I can flop wherever I want to.

-Gus

Dad says I’m not allowed on his chair anymore.

I have no idea why.

-Gus

A wise bunny (probably me) once said: “Happiness is a clean litter box.”

So true:

Yes, I do love a nice clean litter box – but then, who wouldn’t?

Of course, my enjoyment of a clean litter box can only last so long. Eventually Betsy will jump in (while I’m still in here!) and try to push me out of the way so she can use the box (for its named purpose). Then, inevitably, on the 2nd day Betsy will get the urge to dig in the litter box, scattering the nice clean litter all over the place – and after that, it’s never quite the same (even though dad does usually come by and clean up Betsy’s mess).

Still, it’s nice while it lasts. Dad tends to think that I’m kind of weird for liking to lay in my clean litter box – but I think that’s just because he’s never tried it, so he doesn’t understand how nice it is.

Do any other bunnies enjoy lounging in freshly cleaned litter boxes?

-Gus

As we all know, I lead a very busy life. Because of this, I need to take frequent breaks… which I take whenever I want to, wherever I happen to be at the time.

Like, say, right next to dad’s desk, while he’s hard at work:

“Don’t mind me, dad, I’m just taking a quick nap. You keep working though.”

-Gus

I am still the king of the big chair, as I proved to dad today when I jumped right into it (surprising dad quite a bit in the process):

Of course, dad didn’t quite like it when I started attacking the brown blanket – biting and chewing and tossing it. So he shoo-shoo-ed me out of the chair (but not before I grunted at him a few times in disapproval).

I am the King, dad, the KING!

-Gus

Sometimes I think dad gets the mistaken idea that he’s the boss around here because he sits in chairs instead of on the floor.

So I decided to correct him.

You see, dad? I can sit in the chair too.

Which means I’m the boss.

Now go fetch me some treats.

As you can imagine, though, dad didn’t give me any treats. So Betsy and I blocked him in his office for a while and wouldn’t let him out.

Not as satisfying as treats, but still a good day’s work if you ask me.

-Gus

There is nothing for you to see here dad; I’m not up to anything. Just go back to your computer and look the other way.

Ummmm…. I’m just… looking!

See? Nothing to see here; it’s just Gus sitting around, nothing unusual about that. (Pay no attention to the bunny behind the curtain!)

Say what now? That’s not me – it must be your camera not working again. You should look into that. Because it clearly wasn’t me.

Nope, I was sitting here all along.

You just… missed seeing me hop over here from the left, that’s all dad. Yep, I’ve been here the whole time, not being up to anything no-good at all.

I’ll just… be going over here now. And there’s no need for you to look behind that curtain to see if I was there, because, as I said, I wasn’t there. Trust me.

-Betsy

I think dad’s camera is broken – it’s taking ghost pictures!

His next picture was much better, a true representation of where I had been the whole time.

See dad? I’m right here, not behind the door. Nope. Not behind the door. Just here, sitting, watching you pretend to work (while secretly taking pictures of me).

Despite this, dad asked me “what were you doing behind there?”

I said “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Since dad’s eyes were clearly playing tricks on him (maybe he’s working too hard?) I said “see you later, dad” and hopped off.

I think dad needs to get his eyes checked out. Because I was clearly, definitely, certainly not up to anything behind the door there.

-Gus

Why, no dad, we weren’t up to anything. Trust me!

Why do you ask?

-Betsy

So the other day, mum wanted a cuddle with us. So she made dad pick us up and then she snuggled us. (One at a time, of course – we are too much bun for any one person to handle all at once!)

Gus is no good with the snuggling – if you pat his nose just right, he starts to go all dreamy and relaxed.

Gus, THAT WILL NOT DO.

When I get snuggled I try to bury my head in mummy’s neck. Using my claws also helps too; I always try to keep them nice & sharp so nobody even thinks of picking me up! I also make sure that I shed as much as I can, to really aggravate mummy’s allergies and asthma. That way, she’ll put me down quicker.

But this time, nothing worked – dad grabbed me (after a short chase around the house) and mum snuggled me for a good long time, all the while petting my nose and stroking my ears. While this may be fine for her, I DON’T LIKE IT.

So, in retaliation, the next day I got up on the couch and chewed a hole in one of the pillows.

But I cleverly did it while mum & dad were out, so they couldn’t punish me for it! I win!

That should teach them not to pick me up!

-Betsy