Earlier today I saw dad sitting on the floor – so naturally I thought I’d come over and check to see if he had any treats.
Needless to say, I was rather disappointed to find there were none – dad was just taking pictures (again).
Betsy came along shortly after to see if she’d missed out on anything, but I told her she was wasting her time – dad had no treats.
Disgraceful.
-Gus
Dad tried to help us out by “fixing” our cottontail cottage.
Hmmm… I’m not sure if this counts as “fixing,” but then again it is more structurally stable now. And I can chew in places I couldn’t before, so that’s good.
I guess we’ll see.
-Betsy
There are some… problems with Betsy’s new arrangement of the Cottontail Cottage.
Specifically, now it’s really hard for me to get at the hay!
C’mon, how am I supposed to get at the hay now? Just look at it! 
I told dad to do something about it, but he just kept taking pictures. He is useless.
So, I had to try getting at the hay myself.
This is not easy… 
Well I got a little bit, but this is too much work, I think I need to go lie down. 
Ugh, what a mess. Dad, make yourself useful and just fix it for me while I lie here, OK? And be quick about it. And be quiet too. And, while you’re at it, bring me some treats. Got all that?
Good.
-Gus
Dad says I have structurally compromised our Cottontail Cottage:
I don’t know what he’s talking about. CLEARLY this was the result of a severe bunquake; probably a 8.2 on the destructo-scale if you ask me.
Interestingly, now that our Cottontail Cottage has toppled over, it’s even more fun! For example, now I can hide inside and eat hay at the same time.
Nice! (Can you see me through the door?)
It’s still fun to poke my head out and see what’s going on. Oh, and by the way, dad gave me that hay-tube-thing the other day, saying that I needed something to “take my destructive tendencies out on.” Yeah, I don’t get what he’s talking about either.
The back side of the cottage is quite a mess – so much so that I wouldn’t allow dad back there to take photos (too dangerous).
Dad thinks the house is a total loss; I think it can still be salvaged. (At least, until we lose another wall!)
What do you think? Should we try to save the cottage, or just tear it down and get a new one?
-Betsy
Dad is really weird. He is always taking the weirdest photos of us. Like this:
Gus and I were just trying to have a nice nap behind his chair, and he had to come over and… BEEP! Photo taken!
Couldn’t he have gotten a more flattering photo of me?
Geez. I just don’t get it.
-Betsy
Most of the time Betsy and I are pretty “set in our ways,” that is, we have a daily routine and we pretty much stick to it.
But sometimes we like to mix things up a little bit, just to confuse dad.
The other day, around dinnertime (when we normally leave dad’s office and come out into the livingroom), I decided to come out a little bit early. I found dad sitting on the couch, and decided to play a little game with him.
I sat in front of him and looked at him for a while.
Then I lay down, and just kept staring at him.
Needless to say, dad was very confused. He kept asking me what I was doing. I kept quiet and just kept staring at him.
Eventually I got up, stretched, and went into my area to wait for dinner. The rest of the day went as normal.
I think dad is still scratching his head over that one.
Success!
-Gus
Last night mum and dad went out for dinner & a movie. They came home late, and hadn’t left dinner out for us.
We were waiting when they got home to show them how much we disapprove of this.
“It’s about time you got home. Now feed us!”
-Gus
Whenever I’m hanging out in dad’s office, it’s pretty much always sleepy-time.
After a busy morning of getting up on the couch, trying to sneak into the bedroom, eating a big breakfast, pooping everywhere, ripping up some cardboard, and racing around the house a few times, who wouldn’t be tired?
I certainly think I deserve a nice quiet nap! Wouldn’t you agree?
-Gus
Well, I’m happy to say that I’m no longer being force-fed Critical Care. On Monday morning I ate all of my breakfast and this finally seemed to satisfy dad, so he stopped picking me up twice per day to force-feed me.
Still, just look at what I had to go through!
I’m pretty sure everybun out there will agree with me – this is awful. Is there a bunny version of the Geneva Convention? If there is, it should include a clause forbidding force-feeding like this.
I just wanted to get away, but dad and mum kept a hold on me. Although they tried many ways to feed me, I squirmed and wriggled and fought as much as I could, to make sure that it was as un-enjoyable for them as it was for me.
And every time they fed me, I had to spend forever trying to clean my chin. NOT FUN.
Anyway, I’m just glad it’s all over now, and I hope I NEVER have to go through all that again!!!
-Gus
I am so glad to be back home and away from the awful vet. You would not believe the things they do to me there. Thanks everyone for being so concerned about me!
Of course, home isn’t quite 100% back to normal either. Dad and mum keep picking me up twice per day to force-feed me more critical care. But don’t worry, I make sure to put up a big fight and spill as much as I can on my chin and the counter. That way, they think they’ve fed me a lot and they give up and let me go. (I’m so smart.)
But yeah, I’m fine, just chillaxin, getting over my ordeal. Yep, nothing out of the ordinary here. It’s not like I really missed Betsy or anything.
PAY NO ATTENTION TO ANY PHOTOS PRODUCED BY DAD – they are obviously faked!!
-Gus