Dad, I can’t believe you had the vet do this to me.
I hate you so much right now. Or, I would if I wasn’t so woozy from that stuff the vet gave me. What did she call it? Opiates? Why are there all these colors floating around?
When I feel better dad, you are in so much trouble. And don’t even THINK about trying to syringe feed me again. I’ll eat when I’m good and ready – understand?
Woah. I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.
-Betsy
I overheard dad talking to the VET this afternoon. Apparently Betsy made it through her surgery just fine, but there’s still a question as to whether her face will return to normal, and how long she will have to be on (injectable) antibiotics. So she’s going to be spending the night at the vet’s office, and tomorrow mum and dad are going to go pick her up and also learn how to give injections.
Man, Betsy is going to be PISSED!
In the meantime, I’m going to just hang out here in dad’s office. It’s a little lonely without my partner in crime, but… well we’ll see.
-Gus
Um, dad? Why is THIS thing out again? You were just joking about me going back to the vet, right?
Right?
NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! Not the vet again!
Dad says I’m going in for surgery this time to have the abscess removed.
Well, I tell you what dad: you have to catch me first.
-Betsy
Sometimes dad is really late with dinner, and we have to give him subtle hints that it’s time to feed us.
This one usually works pretty well. The double-dose of disapproval really gets his attention.
I can happily report that just after this picture was taken, dinner was served.
-Gus
I’m really mad at dad. He said I’d only have to have stuff put in my ear for 2 weeks. Well, it’s been more than 2 weeks now and he’s still doing it.
In protest, I decided to cause some trouble, by going somewhere I’m not supposed to, of course!
You might be wondering how these pictures were taken – well, mum took them. And I love mummy because she never picks me up and never puts stuff in my ear.
Also, mum lets me go places dad would shoo me away from. Mum is awesome.
Also, we share the same taste in magazines! Yum!
So, this is the hiding spot I settled on. Not bad, huh?
Unfortunately dad found me, so it wasn’t as good as I hoped. But still, I managed to avoid him for most of the day, so I guess I’ll take what I can get.
Next time dad, I won’t be so easy on you!
-Betsy
It seems I can’t even take a nap without dad snapping a picture of me, or checking to see if I’m still alive (something about the way we flop over when we’re sleeping really freaks him out – it’s great fun).
But geez, can’t a bun just take a quiet nap around here without being disturbed?
I tried using Gus as my shield against dad, but it didn’t work so well. Dad still saw me and took a picture (after looking very closely to see if I was still breathing – he is such a worry-wart).
You’d think my tunnel would be a good place for a nap, but dad finds us in there, too – and there’s nothing worse than waking up from a nap only to see dad’s head framed at the end of the tunnel. Ugh.
Does anybun have any suggestions for good napping places? Or where is your favorite place to flop out for a quick snooze?
-Betsy
Sometimes the service around here is a little slow. When it gets too bad, we have to take drastic measures. Like this:
Feed us now or else!
We can threaten to chew mum’s shoes, or the couch, or just give dad the evil eye. It usually works pretty well – for example, shortly after this picture was taken, breakfast was served.
Much better. OM NOM NOM NOM.
p.s. In case anyone wants to know, Betsy is doing OK (as you can see), but she still has the facial paralysis problem and she is still getting the medicine in her ear, which she hates. She has another week of treatment to go, so we’ll see how she is then.
-Gus
Even Gus enjoys our tunnel – but sometimes we both want to sit in it, which results in having to make some compromises with positioning.
Whenever dad sees us like this, he says we are being “snuggle bunnies in the bunny-love tunnel.” But he’s totally mistaken; we’re actually in the middle of a shoving match to see who gets to flop in the middle of the tunnel. Dad just doesn’t understand though – probably because our shoving matches happen in slow motion. I guess I can see why he might confuse this with “snuggling.” But he’s still wrong.
By the way, in case you were wondering, dad is still putting stuff in my ears. The vet said I have an abscess at the back of my head, at the bottom of my ear canal. The stuff being put in my ears is supposed to treat this, or so I hear. We’ll see…
Anyway, aside from being picked up far more often than I would like, I am fine – thank you everyone for asking!
-Betsy
I really don’t like the vet.
She poked me, prodded me, felt every inch of my body (and especially my head), stuck things in my mouth, and most annoyingly, stuck things in my ears – and then put STUFF in my ears!
And to make matters worse, now dad and mum are picking me up and putting stuff in my ears twice every day. For the next 2 weeks.
Having stuff in my ear just feels weird and I have to shake my head after they put me down and fuss with my ear for a long while until I feel normal again.
It is all very undignified. I strongly disapprove of all this treatment. But I will have my revenge – I will run away every time dad comes to pick me up. I will run all the way to the other side of the house, and then back again. I will not make it easy on dad! My hope is that eventually he will give up.
Anyway, now that the VET visit is over, I need to go sulk in my tunnel. Dad, you’d better stay away!!
-Betsy
Mum and dad think there’s something… not quite right with my lips. They think I look a little… “lop-sided.” Is that a pun? If so, I really disapprove of it.
To add insult to… well, more insult, they picked me up and took a picture of my face (just after I had eaten, which explains the fur stains).
Apparently dad also sent this picture to the VET, and even she said something doesn’t look right. I think I overheard “facial paralysis?”
In any case, dad is taking me to the vet today. Ha! That was a joke. You can TRY to take me to the vet, dad, but I’m going to thump and hide until you give up. Since I’ll win in the end, you might as well just forget about it. I don’t want to go to the vet. I hate the hour-long car ride. I hate the car ride, period. I hate the smell of the vet’s office. I don’t like being touched. I’m fine, just leave me alone!!
I hope dad gets the message. If not, I will have some serious disapproving to do when we get back home.
-Betsy