A coupla days ago, it was Our Birfday. We hadda pretty nice day - Playtime onna Screen Porch, double Salads, a coupla Cheerios each, and Mr Mouse got to see N.C.I.S. onna'count obba Fakt "Law and Order" wasn't on and they were habbin' an "N.C.I.S." marrython. He said there was no harecraft-carriers in it, but still, the show was preddy good, although not As Good as watching his favourite, Jack McCoy try cases. But that Gibbs-guy is preddy cool, too.

Later on inna Nite, there were a lotta whut Maman calls "firewerks" going on over atta school acrosst the Back Gardin, and Missy and I thought it wassa thunderstorm and Maman almost hadda come and pull Our Curtains over the winder onna'count obba Fakt I was trying to hide unner'neaf of Missy's Gen'rus Pro'porshuns, but they didn't last long (Maman says the Township rilly can't afford to have "'Lab'rit Firewerks", but that Mayor Jack Ball does Pretty Darn Well wif Whut He Gets.), so it was All-In-All, we hadda Preddy All Right Birfday.

Da Dawg gotta lotta MilkBone Dawg Cookies. He is fourteen now. Maman 'dopted him frum Rawhide Rescue in Northern New Jersey back in 2000. He had been the victim inna divorce. I'm sure you know a story like his - the Father doesn't want him, but the wife and kiddies are forced to live inna 'partmint and can't have him. So da poor Dawg is suddinly homeless and it is Not His Fault! But Marc the Border Collie hadda Happy Ending to his story onna'count obba Fakt he found a Forever Home in Our Warren. And onna 4th of July, he turned fourteen years old.

And Cokie-da-Fat-Cat turned ten. Dadda sys he issa "Ancient, Auld Moggie". Of course Cokie complained about everything onna'count obba Fakt it's Whut He Does. He came to live heer onna'count obba Fakt Sistah Beffy 'dopted him assa Cute Kitten. He was all brownish-coloured then, which is not the right colour for a Maine Coon cat, which is how he was given to a cat-rescue inna Furst Place. Then Beffy 'dopted him. But he costed too much munny to feed, so she brough him over to Maman's and left him with her.

And at that time, Maman and Phil alreddy had KayCee Kitty, and she was two-years old then, so onna 4th of July, she turned twelve years old. Phil 'dopted her frumma Kitty-Rescue. When he went inna Navy he hadda make out sumfing called a "will" in case he got himself killed or sumfing. Anna JAG officer axted him, "Who do you wanna leave alla your munny to?" and Phil said, "KayCee." Anna JAG officer who was filling inna form said, "'KayCee', who?" and Phil said, "KayCee Kitty." Anna JAG officer said, "You're leaving your munny to your cat?" and Phil said, "You axted me who was the closest person to me in the werld, and I'm telling you, my cat, KayCee." Anna Jag officer looked at him and said, "Lookit, son, how about your mother or a human being? I can't make out a will for your cat!" and Phil said, "Hokay, my mother gets custody of KayCee. But if you buggers get me killed, KayCee still gets my life insurance policy."

So that's whut Phil thinks of KayCee, who still pees on his pillow when he does sumfing that 'nnoys her and does fings like go to sleep inna crotch of his trousers, or draped over the top of his computer-screen. She lives in his 'Partmint with him and has The Chowder ob Five of her Very Ownliest now. Which is how things should be, if you axted me.

And Beep-the-Udder-Cat was nine years old onna 4th of July. She also once lived  with Beffy, but when Beffy mooved outta This Houz, she said to Maman, "Eidder you take 'Gidget' (that was Beep's name, then) or she goes to a shelter. I'm not taking her."

And to Maman, that was NO CHOICE, because Maman believes that when you 'dopt any companion animal, it is for LIFE, not just while it is expedient for you.

And Maman was 'sepcially angry because the whole "mooving out" incident was over some worthless bastard named was "d'wayne" - Maman had alreddy thrown him out of wun houz and now she was having to throw him out of another.

And because she was trying to hurt everyone she could for the sake of this this lying, cheating, sub-intelligent bit of human excrement, Beffy threw away her dog, Cody, to God-knows-who and abandoned Beep. Which shows you how much she "cared" about them: dump the fur-children who have done no wrong for a proven liar and free-loader who eventually lies and cheats on her. And now Beffy blames Maman for "getting rid of my dog, Cody." It wasn't Maman. It was Beffy. Her choice. Her responsibility. Her failure. She threw away Cody to dog-fighting and walked away from Beep.

Whut Hoomins never seem to learn is that It's not a guilt-free Rainbow Bright Werld out there. No matter whut lies they make up to tell themselves to feel better about the crimes they commit against animals, the Truth burns like a flaming bag of dog-turd on their own doorstep. And they can try to dress the story up any way they like, but the Truth of it is, it's still humiliating to look at the bottoms of their own shoes in the morning. They have stepped in it and now they have to own it - because The Stink of what-they-have-done will linger, and it can't be spread around or wiped off on someone else!

There was no "wonderful family" for poor Cody-dawg. A "wonderful family" would have wanted her veterinary and spay records and breed registation papers that Maman offered to give - but dog-fighters don't care. Small dogs are disposable. Cody was disposable. There was a choice, but Cody didn't get to make it, nor did Beep. The choice was made FOR them, without their interests being considered. The bag of human crap was valued above the fur-children. It was that simple. It was never Maman's choice, because had it been, "d'wayne" would have been consigned to the human site of toxic waste-memory a lot earlier than he was. Believe me, there are disease-causing bacteria that have more intrinsic value than "d'wayne" could hope to achieve.

Don't even try to raise the lie that Maman was to blame. Beep knows that she is nine years old and she is part of Our Warren because Maman wouldn't see her returned to a shelter. Maman wanted to believe in the "wonderful family" for Cody, even though she knew it wasn't true. She wanted to believe because Our Warren was strained to it's limits to accept another member in Beep, and because her Mother was dying, and because responsibility for everything suddenly rested on her. She couldn't stand not to believe.

And so now Beep is nine years old.

But as she says, it is in a way, a sad annyversary. She is glad that she hassa Forever Home, but she wishes she had never heard it said out loud how she wasn't wanted. She bemembers too well the long few minits when she held her breath when she heard that her life in This Houz hung on Maman's saying, "Yes, I'll take her." or "No, I can't."

And This Houz was all that Beep knew. It is still All Beep Knows. She knows that Cody-dawg is gone and that Marc stayed - because Maman made a promise to Marc when she 'dopted him, that he had found his Forever Home with her, and he would never be homeless again. Maman keeps her promises.

And Beep also knows, at the age of nine, that Marc, at the age of fourteen, is an Idiot, and will remain an Idiot onna'count obba Fakt, it's All He Knows. And Beep is willing to accept that she is Part of Marc's Herd, onna'count obba Fakt he issa Herding Dawg who needs a Herd, and she is It. Cokie won't Herd and Bunnies don't, so that leaves Beep to make up the Dawg's Herd on her Ownliest. And she's perfekt'ly willing to be da Herd if that's Whut It Takes to be in Our Warren. 

And so that's Whut We're Doing tiday. Cokie is sitting onna FooTon in Maman's Study, complaining about Life, and we bunnies are having Our Naps in Our Habbytats. Marc is asleep with his nose pointed towards Beep - who is asleep, being The Herd of Our Warren onna back obba FooTon in Dadda's Office heer at Our Warren...    

Posted by Our Warren at 1:53 PM EDT

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You know, I didn't want to have to say it, but I'm going to have to. Hoomins deserve to Know: Hoomins who write about Hoomin Politics are Stoopit.

That's All There Is To It. Stoopit. Dumb. Uninformed. Not Bright. Not 'Tellygint.

That issa view frum Wun Small Bunny, lemme tell you.

Hokay, so heer is Whut Happined...

I was sitting with Maman this morning onna'count obba Fakt that she doesn't feel good. The Weather is closing in, anna Map-Guys onna Wedder-Channel onna Tellyvision anna Nashunal Wedder Service are all saying that there are Thunderstorms moving in, and Maman's Migraine is acting up assa'Vanced Warning System that pretty much says the Forecast is Spot On. Plus her hands are all swollen and sum of her Other Joints aren't doing the Jobs they are designed to do, and none of her Meddysin is doing whut it is designed to do, either - so you could say there's Failure On All Parts to Perform As Advertised and she is preddy miserable.

So I went to sit with her in her Study and we read the Noospapers togedder. When Wun Bunny inna Warren doesn't feel good, it always helps for Anudder Bunny to share those feeling with them. That is part of Alla Us Togedder, part of being inna Warren, and it is Important.

Ennyways, so Maman and I were reading The Guardian Online UK, which issa noospaper that she used to read when she lived in Lancashire. And inna Guardian, there wassa article by this writer named Paul Harris that claimed to expose the "Real" John McCain. And guess what the article claims? In tones of hushed, whispersy, conspiratorial confidentiality, Mr Harris confides in his readers that he knows for certain that Senator McCain hassa - *theatrical gasp* - "dark side"! 

And Maman and I are reading this article, and I look up at Maman and I'm like, "Whutsamatta with this Harris guy? Is he a political neophyte or whut?"

And Maman says, very patiently, "No dear, he's a political writer trying to explain an American political candidate for President to a British audience."

And I'm like, "Um, well, lookit - the 'British People' can't be *that* dumb. They 'lected their very own Tony Blair. They know Politics issa game of shadows and mirrors, so howcome they need some noospaper writer to tell them that McCain isn't Whut He Seems? No professional politician is Whut S/He Seems. That's part of politics - Not Being Whut S/He Seems While Seeming To Be It."

And then I added. "Dadda isn't *that* dumb, and he's British."

And Maman said, "Your Dadda is uncommonly intelligent, George."

And I waggled my ears to signal that I agreed with her.

Because it *is* Troo - Our Dadda knows that Politicans are Real Professionals and are no more Whut They Appear to be than actors playing a role inna Moovie. No one, for hextample, gets to be the leading member of a mainstream political party by being an Outsider. Outsiders remain onna out-side - which is why they are are called "OUT-Siders"" they are onna out-side obba main-stream finking, looking inside.

Which of course means that the In-Siders remain firmly onna IN-Side. And that the IN-siders inna mainstream Political Party can talk all they want about being the agents of Historic Change and alla that Stuff - but the Fakt remains that they are firmly stuck IN-Side of their Political Party and they intend to remain there - or they won't have their Party's support and they won't be elected President obba United States.

In udder werds, Mr Harris' article on Senator McCain contained No Surprises. I mean, I guess *he* thought it did. He thought he was writing a Hextpose (this issa Hoomin French Werd that means "noticing the Emperor Has No Clothes when everyone else is studiously Ignoring Dat Fakt") and I guess he is hextpressing his Jornalistic Integritty, or sumfing by writing for a Very Impressive Noospaper like The Guardian.

But it's no Big Sekret that Senator McCain or Senator Obama Are Not Whut They Seem. It is Not Noos.

We alreddy know that. They are politican. Of course they are Not Whut They Seem. What is important is how close do they come to Whut They Seem? How far does each man diverge frum his own "Truth" - and how much of that "Truth" are the American voters prepared to live with, if they elect that man to run the country? 

Now in Our Warren, Maman likes parts of Whut Each Senator has had to say - but she in no way agrees with either candidate's "Total Package". She believes that each Wun, assa Politican issa fundmental liar who has ties to people and ideologies and agendae to which niether wun ascribes, but to which each wun is also inextricably obligated. That is the Nature Of Politics - at Best it forces hoomins to make Deals With the Devil in order to achieve their personal goals, and often the Furst Fing that is sacrificed on the Altar of Ambition is Personal Integrity.

And you know whut? Being TopBunny inna Warren is not easy, so I can't even Imagine whut it would be like to wanna be TopBunny inna United States.

I mean, fings are hard enuf assit is - 'specially since Cokie is *rilly* upset over accidentally being shaved innu "Pussin'Boots" atta V-E-T's and he is still trying to take it out onna Dawg who still smells like "Collie-Slick" frum habbin' been toda Spa. So Yestidday, da Dawg came by, waving his tail and spreading that icky smell of collie-slick all through the BunRoom, and Foxie took a lunge at him, onna'count obba Fakt that he passed 'specially close by her habbytat - onna'count obba Fakt he wasn't finking (he seldom does).

And Mr Mouse got hextcited onna'count obba Fakt he thought she was lunging at him - which she wasn't - but Mouse grunted and that startled Dusty who was napping beside his water-crock, so he woke up before his brain did and did a coupla laps around his habbytat before he realised Nuthin' Was Going On...

BUT... onna'count obba Fakt that Dusty *thumped* and sorta ran a coupla Panic Laps in his habbytat and made a whole lotta racket over the Fakt he didn't know Whut Was Going On (which was Nuthin'), Maman (who was inna Kitchin) comes running innu the BunRoom and she's like, "Whuttsamatta, George? Missy! Are you bossing George around over the treats again?"

And Missy is sitting there, half-dozing in Loaf-position and not paying enny'tenshun to ennyfing at all, BUT when Maman comes dashing in, she's suddenly got her ears up and she's axtin', "Treats? Whut treats? George has got treats?"

And me, who is TopBun, I'm sitting there and I can't even *begin* to hextplain Whut Just Happined. And I'm suddenly trying to beat off Missy who is trying to poke her whole head up my left nostril to see if I got Parsley Breath

How do you hextplain Nuthin'?.

So I can't see why ennybunny would wanna become President obba United States!

But in My 'Pinion, this whole article in The Guardian (which udderwise seems to be a perfktly 'Specktable Noospaper) by this Mr Harris (who seems to be a perfketly 'Specktable, if Hextcitable Journalist) about "Hextposing" Senator McCain as having a "Dark Side" is just a nudder hextample of supposed InnelLectual Europeans trying to Hextplain American Politics to people who really don't care. I mean, the British have their own politcs to werry about - they have Gordon Brown and nobunny deserves him!

But Mr Harris writing about Senator McCain? Is he gonna tell us nextest week about the "dark side" of Senator Obama? (Bet you he won't, because he either a.) he getting munny frum him, or he will b.) claim to have and suddin attack of "principles".)

Rather, he should try telling people sumfing they don't know, instead of taking up people's time with anudder Whole Lotta Nuthin'!

-------------------------------- By George!

Posted by Our Warren at 11:46 AM EDT

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So tiday, Dadda decided that it was Cokie-da-Fat-Cat's day to go toda V-E-T.

Yeah.

Sorta like yestiday was Marc-da-Border-Collie's day for his 10,000 Mile Check-Up. It seems to be Whut's Going Around (sorta like Maman's "brung-kite-us") heer at Our Warren.

Whut I fink is, it hasta do the Fakt that Maman is having Wun of Her Attacks of Flea-Fright. This issa dis-seese that makes her very afrid that da Dawg is going to bring Fleas innu the houz where they will multyply and make Alla Us Togedder itchy and spread horrybul dis-seeses. Maman says that nowhere has Fleas like Noo Joisey, and nowhere in Noo Joisey are there fleas like in Our Back Gardin, so she must constantly be On Guard against enny obba "little buggers" getting inside obba houz where they don't belong. So as soon as it is Spring, she starts having Attacks of Flea-Fright, and these centre mainly around Da Dawg onna'count obba Fakt he issa onliest wun (besides Dadda and Phil) who goes out innu the Back Gardin, where she says alla Fleas in Noo Joisey live.

So when she lets da Dawg Out On Patrol she allus hasta chase afta him with a comb when he comes in, yellin' "Waidaminit! You might have picked up 'freeloaders'!" 

Now, at Furst, da Dawg was more than happy to go to Maman, even though he could see that she hadda comb in her hand - onna'count obba Fakt that he thought he was gonna getta Fuss - like when she rubs him all-ober with towels onna'count obba Fakt he has been Out Inna Rain and has MuckyPaws. Being rubbed by towels is sorta like getting an all-over body-massage for a Dawg, so frum his Point Of View, getting MuckyPaws was sorta Worth the Effort since he is also gonna getta Fuss, kinda like a reward, for getting MuckyPaws.

So when Maman called him over to her to check for Freeloaders, he thought it was gonna be sumfing like getting himself Dried Off wif Towels for habbin' MuckyPaws. Then he discovered it meant she was gonna go over him wiffa Fine-Toothed Comb, and he has long, silky border-collie fur. So that wasn't so fun, onna'count obba Fakt that his fur picks up bits of grass, seeds, and all-sorts.

So da Dawg stopped being 'Thusiastic about being Combed, and Maman got tired of having to comb out a fifty-five pound border-collie every time he came in frum On Patrol. It seemed like the more she combed, the more tangled he got and the more unhappy they both became. But Maman Rilly Hates Fleas, and Marc Rilly Hates to be Combed. And they Both Said that They Couldn't Be Habbin' Wif This...

So now, every Springtime, da Dawg hasta go toda V-E-T and get sum meddysin that will prevent Fleas frum ever taking a free ride on him ever again. And I guess Maman figgers that since da Dawg is alreddy atta V-E-T's, he might as well have his 10,000 Mile Check-Up done while he is there, too. And if Marc has his 10,000 Mile Check-Up, then the Catz might as well have theirs, and then the Bunnies can go to see Dr Sharin and have theirs and then, *that way* EVERYBUN will have had their 10,000 Mile Check-Up done for the year - and Maman can stop worrying about it.

So afta Marc goes, you can preddy much bet that Cokie is gonna be on his way, nextest.

The only Fing issat Cokie allus figgers that she'll fortyget him.

Of course how ennybunny can fortyget almost forty-pounds of black, mussy, smelly fur punctuated by two huge greeny-yellow eyes that sits onna foo-ton and  complains endlessly is Beyond Me.

Onna'count obba Fakt that Cokie has gotten so big, and so shure of himself that he doesn't bother much to groom enny more. Wunce inna'while, he'll prop himself up inna corner obba foo-ton and try to straighten outta fur on his Bhudda-belly, but not too often. And sumtimes, he'll sort of look over his shoulder to make sure his Nether Regions are still attached to the Forward Part obba Cat. And if you bother him, he'll carefully groom his paws inna disinnerested manner - but so far as Regular Grooming goes, Cokie gave up on that a Long Time Ago. It's just Too Much Hard Werk, and Cokie hassa severe allergy to ennyfing resembling 'werk'. 

Besides, he knows if he waits long enuf, and smells badly enuf, either Dadda or Maman will call up Kim-atta-Groomers and she will make An Hextepshun to her Regular Schedule and Groom-A-Cat. This is onna'count obba Fakt that Cokie is SO big, and SO adorable, and SUCH a "good kittie", and he looks SO pretty sitting inna Kitty-Kup (that's axtchually made for a small dawg) sitting inna pet-shop window when she gets done with him. And, of course, hoomins see him sitting inna window, and stop by and inquire about him and then bring their pets to be groomed there by Miss Kim. And Cokie just sits there, wearing his noo Lion-Cut and his bandana, chats toda hoomins and soaks up alla'tention like a sponge.

It's Whut He Does.

But not this time.

This time, Maman made his 'pointmint foda V-E-T's. And Dadda came uppystairs wiffa Big Carrier. Cokie took Wun Look and scurried offa foo-ton in Maman's Study, and shambled at top-speeds innu "his" corner byda big fan unnerneaf obba winder - which is where Dadda caught him and stuffed him head-furst innu the carrier. And it was while he was pushing on Cokie's Nether Regions that he discovered Cokie had been less-than-tidy about his grooming habits.

"Well, I got Captain Kirk and all his Klingons." Dadda said as he came downnastairs.

And Maman looked horryfied. "We gotta getta scissors..."

"Can't."  Dadda said as he pushed the Big Carrier outta Frunt Door. "I'm running late as it is. Besides, you'd need clippers, not scissors or you might poke him. I'm sure the v-e-t has seen worse."

"But he'll look like a slob!" Maman wailed.

And Dadda said, "Whut's noo?"

So inna meantime, da Dawg was lookin' inside obba carrier. And Cokie is in there yeowling for help.

Anna Dawg was just looking at him, like, "Whut's your problem? You're going for a Ride-Inna-Car!"

Anna Cat was, like, "Yerheeeelllllp!"

Anna Dawg was still puzzled, so he barked, "Ride-Inna-Car, stoopit! Ride-Inna-Car!" and ran off to get his leash, thinking he could go, too.

And Dadda said to Maman, "Lookit, the V-E-T alreaddy knows Cokie issa slob. He's been his v-e-t for the past 12 years. Cokie's been a slob for the past nine! It's not like it's going to be anything new."

And Maman was standing there, looking all werried. And she was, like, "Well, be careful." and then she said to Cokie, "It's all right, Cokie-Sweetie. You're just going for a Ride-Inna-Car."

And Cokie went "Liiiiiaaaaarrrrrr!" and watched as Maman absently relieved da Dawg of his leash and took hold of his collar. "Tell Cokie it's going to be all right, Markie."

And Marc (who isn't all That Bright ennyways) says toda Cat, "It's All Right, Stoopit. Maman says so."

And Dadda dragged the carrier containing the Fat-Cat outta door, anna Fat-Cat was wailing, "Liiiiaaarrrr! They're all liiiiaaarrrrrrrsssss!"

And Missy looked at me and says, "It's times like these that I am rilly glad we are diggyfied bunny-rabbits." 

So then Dadda came back and he's gotta carrier and there's no noise coming frummit, but since he's leaning heavily to wun side, you know Cokie hasta be in there.

And Dadda set the carrier down onna foo-ton and Maman axted him, "Well? Was it Totally Humillyating?"

And Dadda sed, "Well, da V-E-T said it was like eating peanuts."

And Maman sed, "Whut?"

And Dadda sed, "Like eating peanuts."

And he opened the door to the carrier, but nobunny came out.

And Dadda said, "I took Cokie in and they weighed him, and did a thorough physical. He's in good shape for his age, but of course he's over-weight. Isn't he always. That's our Cokie - vastly over-weight and loving it. He remains the Largest Cat in the V-E-T's practice, and in the V-E-T's personal experience."

And Maman axted, "Whut about the klingons? Was that embarrassing?"

And Dadda sighed. "No more than the fact that he's the size of your basic barrage balloon. The V-E-T happened upon them, grabbed his clippers and shaved them off. Then he felt a mat and shaved that off, and then he asked me if I minded if he shaved a just a little more off and said that having clippers around a rug like Cokie  was like eating peanuts - you just couldn't stop. So he kept on shaving 'just a bit more' and before either of us knew it, he was as you see him..."

And while Dadda had been speaking, Cokie had more or less slinked outta his carrier and flopped onna foo-ton with his head on his paws. So there he was and he was nekkid.

I mean that he had no fur on, hexcept fora Ruff Around His Face, anna Flag Atta End ob His Tail and little Socks On Each Wun Ob His Feets! That was it - udderwise he wassa Totally Nekkid Cat!

So I would put his pikchur heer inna Blog so you could see him, hexcept forda Fakt that he is currently unner'neaf obba chest-ob-drawers inna Study and refuses to come out. Da Dawg stuck his nose unner there to axt him if he would, and Cokie called him a Bad Name, and Dadda hassa deep puncture wound in his hand where Cokie was hanging on to him while the V-E-T was indulging in his "having-clippers-around-Cokie-is-like-eating-peanuts" habit - so I'm not even gonna attempt to go and axt him 'bout his 'Venture Atta V-E-T's tiday. You'll have to wait to see pikchurs until Cokie is inna bedder mood.

So that's preddy much Whut Happined Tiday.

Of course, as Missy pointed out, since Marc went toda V-E-T's yestidday, and Cokie went tidday, and Maman mentioned that Beep hassa'pointmint to go on Monday, that prob'ly means that we are nextest on Maman's List for 10,000 Mile Check-Ups. So far, we haven't seen enny of the other carriers come uppystairs frumms basemint, but that doesn't mean much. 10,000 Mile Check-Ups are a Fakt-Ob-Life heer in Our Warren - you live here, you get wun.

The good fing is, Our bunny V-E-T, Dr. Sharin, doesn't seem to like peanuts!

----------------------------------------------------------------- By George.

Posted by Our Warren at 12:27 PM EDT

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You know, each of our Warrens are more or less known for sumfing dif'frunt. This is onna'count obba Fakt that no two HouzBunnies are alike. No matter how much we might look alike as miniRexes, or Lops, or Dwarves, or Inkwish Spots or Vanilla Big White Bunnies or Small New Zealand Bunnies, we're all dif'frunt. Sure, Alla Us Togedder heer at Our Warren are bunnies, and we all are Livin' As Urban Rabbits as HouzBunnies, but the Troof obba Situation issat we're all dif'frunt.

Heer at Our Warren, we are dedykated to the Idea of "Alla Us Togedder, NoBunny OnAlone!"

And that's Us.

Our Friends and Relayshuns at The Herd in Kin-Tuck-Eee are dedykated toda Ideal of "Givin' Everybun A Chance".

And That Is Whut I am going to tell you about tiday.

Tiday our Cuzzin, Murphy, has left forda Rainbow Bridge.

Maman and Auntie Grace have been onna tellyphone since lastest Night, and Unkul Peter and Dadda, and they are deeply Upset Over Murphy Leaving, as Hoomins tend to get. Maman and Dadda said special prayers for him, with Maman wiping tears while axtin' that if Murph had to leave The Herd, would Belinda, Hawthorn and Hunny please be there atta End Obba Bridge to meet him, just like in the story that I wrote, "Belinda Beyond The Bridge".

As if Wun of Those Bunnies would miss welcoming their Friend and Relayshun!

The Fing issat Hoomins fortyget to see The Whole Pikchur. They only see Whut Is In Frunt Of Them, and then Whut Is Behind Them - as though Life flows inna narrow stream that pools out behind them innu a lake they call "history", and alla wadder inna pool is alla'bout them. They fortyget that we share this planet, and that LIfe issa'bout Alla Us Togedder.

Yeah.

So, a few days ago, Auntie Grace brought sum Foster Kittens innu The Herd. I don't mean "kits" as in baby bunnies, I mean that they were baby kitty-cats, prob'ly liddle Maine-Coony sorta kitties, like teeny Cokies or baby Percy-cats. They were tiny kittens that were too tiny to have lost their mawmie - but that's Whut Happined. They had Lost Their Mawmie and were OnAlone.

Now two obba kitties were doing perfektly hokay letting Auntie Grace feed them Kitten Milk, and they will prob'ly grow up to sit on Foo-tons and hog food-crocks and become Fat-Cats in sumbunny's multiSpecies Warren. (And sum ennerprisin', 'Tellygint TopBun will have to pull fur outta their tails or else hed-butt them inna sides to impress upon them The Fakt that they are members of a Warren, and Not In-Charge...) But for right now, only two of the four Foster Kitties were doing well, and Auntie Grace was Fretting Over the tiniest two.

Then the Tinest Kitty-of-All went to The Rainbow Bridge, all on it's Onliest.

And it is hard, sometimes, to leave One Werld to reach anudder.

But The Herd is alla'bout Givin' Sumbun A Chance.

That is how Pennyroyal came to live in The Herd. Auntie Grace saw her sitting all OnAlone, outside, atta Yard Sale. And there was nobun to bring her in frumma Wedder or to bring her food or wadder. She was trapped inna wooden hutch onna ground where Wild Fings could get to her and there was nobun for her to care about and nobun to care about her. She had No Chance...

...Until Auntie Grace stopped by, saw that she was OnAlone and Rescued her!

And then, she became part of The Herd, and, suddenly, Pennyroyal had A Chance!

Yeah!

Just like that - she suddenly was Given A Chance at a whole'nudder Life! (And Maman *still* finks we need anudder Inkwish Spot around heer for sum reason...she finks *mebbe* when we moove there will be room inna Noo BunRoom that she hasn't ebben seen yet...)

Ennyways, being a foster with Auntie Grace was A Chance forda Tiniest Kitten. And while sum hoomins might fink that not being able to drink Kitten Milk and leaving for the Rainbow Bridge was The End - but Maman allus says, "Death is but a doorway." It is anudder form of A Chance.

But the Tiniest Kitten had to find the way to the Bridge. And finding the Bridge while hardly even knowing this place is not easy.

And Murphy knew this as well as the Rest Of Us. Murphy, no matter Whut Stories you hear - and since he issa Legend, onna'count obba Whacky Whipper  and the FlipFlops, there are going to be a Lotta Stories told about Murphy, lemme tell you! He issa Chawtah Member of R.I.F.R.A.F., too, one obba Few, the Proud, the Courageous who put his paw down and helped to author The Bunny Bill Of Rights (click onna RIFRAF name to see da link, or look onna tool-bar onna left of your screen. Yeah, we hab Our Own Web-site!).

Yeah!

But Furst and Foremost, Murphy issa HouzRabbit, and he knew the Lore obba HouzBunnies, as well assa Lore of The Herd Frum Kin-Tuck-Eee. And because he wassa Senior Bun, he knew frum Elder Bunny Dreams about the Journey to the Rainbow Bridge, The Manner of Leave-taking, and How to Get There Frum Here.

So lastest night, Murphy thought he might have to leave and gather up the Tiniest Kitten - but - no, hang on... and back he came, onna'count obba Fakt that there issa *Military Tradishun* in The Herd. They know alla'bout planning campaigns and manoovers and alla that ordinateerin' stuff that Our Warren has Trubble getting Offa Ground. (That is Wun Fing about Bunnies - whut Wun Warren can't do, anudder can! Rabbits live inna Socially Co-operative Society and we don't bugger about trying to do Whut We Can't...) And Murphy's Military Tradishunal Training stretched back alla his nine years!

For hextample, he knew that armies march on their stomachs.

And Murph never met a meal he didn't like.

So he packed in salad, had sum hay, hadda nap and talked ebberyFing over with the rest of The Herd so that they knew Whut Was Up. Then he hadda'nudder nap. And sum more hay.

And then the Second Smallest Foster Kitty left for the Rainbow Bridge.

And Murphy had a little bit more hay, and then he carried out the Mission of The Herd. It was hard, you know? But Murphy did Whut The Herd Does. He quietly said "I love you" to Auntie Grace and Paul and went to get the poor little confoozled kitties.

Because Sumbunny had to Give Them A Chance to find their way to the Rainbow Bridge. And Givin' EveryBun a Chance issa Mission of The Herd.

It's Whut They Do.

Because of Auntie Grace, All Four obba Kittens were Given A Chance to became members of The Herd. And because they all were part of The Herd In Kin-Tuck-Eee, they all hadd'A Chance to know Murphy and to drink Kitten Milk. So the two Bigger Kittens chose A Chance atta Noo Life heer, and because of knowing Murphy, the two Littlest Kitties got their 'Nudder Chance to find EveryBun at the little Welkome Hut Atta End Obba Rainbow Bridge - because they were too tiny to have found it OnAlone.

But, you see, without The Herd, NONE of those kitties had Enny Chance AT ALL!

So do you see the Bigger Pikchur now? The Hoomins will bemember Murphy The Legend-Bun anna stories obba Whacky Whipper and Auntie Grace's Pink FlipFlops, and Murphy, Chawtah Member of R.I.F.R.A.F., and alla that is Good Stuff! But Alla Us Togedder will bemember Murphy who carefully planned to give up his place in The Herd to carry out it's Mission to Give EveryBunny A Chance.

And to bemember Our Murphy, we will go on heer at Our Warren, doing our best to see that all creatures become Alla Us Togedder, NoBunny OnAlone!

---------------------------------- By George.

Posted by Our Warren at 4:01 PM EDT

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Which basically means, putting down My 'Pionions and Observations 'bout Whut Goes On Around Heer. And I can't afford to Get Distrackted by Small Stuff. But this isn't Small Stuff. This is BIG Stuff - lemme tell you!

Yeah.

Yestidday was Monthly Cleaning Day for the BunRoom. This is The Day when Dadda takes alla Our Habbytats togedder and empties alla bins unnerneaf, and alla pootie pans are scrubbed inside-out wif vinegar (instead of just being changed ebbery-udder-day), alla haybins are hextchanged out, and alla toys get washed and changed around and we get Noo Toys, and there are Extry Treats Alla'round, and EveryBun gets Extry Playtime.

Well, Maman Got Distrackted.

Yeah. And onna'count obba Fakt that she Got Distrackted, she managed to screw up the Whole Cleaning-Out Fing, mostly All By Herself, but because she issa Queen of Chaos she managed to also hextend the Screwing-up Process to Inklood Phil (who as her son issa Prince of Disaster) and Dadda (who is prob'ly justa InnaSaint By-Stander Who Got Caught Up Inna Whole Mess) and Alla Us Togedder heer at Our Warren!

Yeah. We're talking *Casualties By Acquaintance" heer, lemme tell you!

You see, Maman is still hooked onna whole Fantasy that she can bond Foxie Princess Kyootchick to *sumbunny*. And she keeps insisting that we gotta share this Fantasy with her. She is also preddy dedykated to the idea that This Fantasy has to happin bifore alla this Moovin' Fing takes place, so that Alla Us Togedder will sumhow feel More SeeCure while we're all going for A Ride Inna Car.

And that's Maman's Fantasy. Which isn't necessar'ly a 'Pinion or Belief As Hextpressed Byda Managemint (lemme tell you!).

I mean, when is she gonna learn? How menny times do we hafta tell her? Mr Mouse only wants to own ebberyfing and not share. Dusty only "Bonds" to Hoomins! I mean *rilly*! This bonding-fing didn't werk the last time Maman tried it and it's not going to werk enny time inna Future, so you'd fink (wouldn't you?) that Maman would getta Kloo...

But No.

Maman hasta get all tied up yestidday in Giving Them Anudder Chance To Gedda'Long.

NoosFlash to Maman: They don't wanna "Gedda'Long"! Mr Mouse wants to own *all* his own Stuff. Alla it. All for him! It's ALL his and he owns alla'it. Mr Mouse doesn't share. He's a ten-year-old bunny who has lived his entire life not sharing and he has no intentions of suddinly lerning to share now. Everyfing in Mr Mouse's habbytat belongs to him, now and forebber.

Got that? Hokay. Now movin' on toda Nextest bit...

Dusty doesn't wanna bondmate. He doesn't know Whut To Do with Wun. He doesn't know about Grooming and he's not gonna Lern. He wants to be ThePetMe Bunny and bond with Sum Hoomin. He doesn't want a Companion Bunny libbin' with him in his habbytat. Companion Bunnies don't have Opposable Thumbs! They don't have access toda Salad Bank. They don't shop for Baby Organic Carrots and they don't take you Out For Playtime! But Hoomins do... Dusty can manipulate Hoomins to wrap around his paw. He is a far-frum-stoopit-miniLop. Therefore, Dusty has it figgered out that he wants to bond wiffa Hoomin.

I can't help his choices, but you gotta Bespeckt them!

Hokay, so moving on frum that!

MissyBun and I *DIDN'T GET OUR PLAYTIME YESTIDDAY!* HELLO, STOOPIT! MissyBun and I ended up not getting Our Habbytat cleaned out, eidder. Maman Got Distrackted and we Got Left Out!

I'm talking OUTRAGE, heer.

I mean, *rilly*!

And if *ennyBunny* even FINKS we're gonna let this go Quietly Innnu the Night - lemme tell you, we are not!

So this morning we are sitting here with Disapproving Rabbit Looks, and giving Maman the Royal Bunny Butt treatment, even when she hands out Baby Organic Carrots frum the Salad Bank. I gave her the RBB frum the FooTon in her Study all morning (I am not taking this Indiggity lying down, lemme tell you!).

Dadda says we're getting Our Clean-Out this AftaNoon when he gets back frum Werk and Phil comes over.

Yeah.

Ennyways, it's pouring down rain and blowing Wind Advisories outside, so I *rilly* don't fink Missy and I wanna go play onna ScreenPorch inna Cold-and-Wet!

Dis OFFICIALLY SUCKS!

Yeah, so I'm off to sulk sum more...

...because Baby Organic Carrots don't *fix* ebberyfing...

And that's My HouzRabbit's Point-ob-View 'bout Libbin' Assa Urban Rabbit, and My 'Pinion For Tidday!

----------------------------------- By George!  

Posted by Our Warren at 2:18 PM EDT

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Well, the more I look, the more I see...

There are Cloos, and they are Happinin' All Around Me! If I could just put them All Togedder, I would know *Whut's Goin' On Around Heer* - because, lemme tell you, sumfing is!

Maman won't let ennyfing get dirty, which means she is following EveryBunny around with a sponge, wiping up everywheres we go, and she is emptying Pootie-Pans without letting us do ennyfing in them. It is almost as it she is Wiping Out Bunny Smells! And we all know that *that* is just all kinds of wrong, lemme tell you! Besides, it's def'nitly 'Noying. I mean, you *Leave A Pootie* to Find Your Way and *Whoops* - it's gone. So now, you gotta start looking around for *Where You Were* onna'count obba Fakt that you are suddinly Lost In Your Own Houz...

And it's no good axting Da Dawg ennyfing onna'count obba Fakt, he's as Lost as EveryBunny else: Maman keeps on telling him, "Marc, put your toys inna Baskit." even when Nobun has been playing with him! And he's puzzled because he hasn't ebben played wif ennyfing yet, but onna'count obba Fakt he's a Border Collie (and they love their Jobs!), he just goes ahead and does it!

So Yestidday, Maman collected alla her Plush Bunnies frum Hunny's Bunny Ministry and put them inna Huge Bag, tied them all up and sent them off toda "Storage Centre" with a bunch ob Boxes Ob Buks.

Yeah, it is beginning to look more and more like sumfing like Mooving might be coming to Our Warren!

But the Very Most Werrying Fing issat We Dunno Where We Are Going, or Whut "'Tire-mint" is Alla'bout. I mean, Dadda usta say he was gonna become a "Gaffer" and raise Tatties. Hokay, so "Tatties" are Dadda's way ob saying "Potatoes" and dat is fine. We hab learned to speak a certain amount ob Inkwish frum Inkland, specifikly Zummerzet, which issa place where Dadda libbed assa Kit. So he wants to grow potatoes. Fine.

And he can't do dis inna Back Gardin onna'count obba Fakt, I dunno. Prob'ly onna'count obba Fakt that he can't be 'Tired heer or sumfing - because he keeps on Werking.

Well, if you axted me, I fink it hasta do wiffa Houz and not wif Dadda! Da Dawg sed that he and Maman were hurrying downnastairs when the telephone started ringing, and then when he wasn't looking, Maman slipped onna stair. But Da Dawg was there, doing his Job (which is to Help Her Stand UP) and she stumbled innu him and so she didn't fall over or ennyfing. But she hurt her shoulder and went to sit onna sofa inna Sitting Room with Mouse and they watched a "Law & Order" marrython and some "NCIS" for a day or so.

But 'parently she and Dadda hadda "Talk" aboud *this*, and so now there is sumfing the matter wiffa Houz With Stairs. And there is sumfing the matter wiffa Back Gardin that won't grow Tatties. So Maman and Dadda sed that Whut We Need issa Noo Houz anna Noo Gardin where they can put Belinda & Hawthorn's Rose, and Hunny's Rose, and Clover's and Bailey's and then plant a Bigger Herb Gardin along with 'Maters. Well, only Missy and Mouse like 'Maters, but that is Hokay onna'count obba Fakt that Dadda sed he will also plant sum Romaine onna'count obba Fakt that We Buggers Eat So Much obbit Ennyways that it would be WorthWhile.

And Dadda sed that Dusty issa Most Efficient Machine God Ebber Made for Converting Salad Innu Sh*t he has ever seen. Nextest to Missy.

And Missy glared at him and sed, "Yeah, but at least whut's in MY pootie box has 'Mater seeds innit! And I don't needa subscripshun to Nashunal Geographic to do it, eidder!"

And Dadda sed, "Yes, you, Missus."

So she turned around and gave him the Royal-Bunny-Butt onna'count obba Fakt that she was inna bad mood ennyways.

And then Maman came along and changed outta Pootie-Pan and there was almost nothing innit! I mean, *rilly*! It's 'Mazin' how hoomins just feel free to Mess With Our Stuff for no reason. wiffout even axtin'! Whut's she tryin' to do - Wipe Outta Bunny Smells? That is just WRONG!

So as soon as she picked up the Pootie-pan, I raced over and peed where she picked it up frum, onna'count obba Fakt that's also My Property.

And Maman yelled in frumma Kitchin, "GEORGE! Don't you DARE pee onna wall!"

So I did. Onna'count obba Fakt that I could, and prob'ly *should* mainly onna'count obba Fakt she doesn't want me to. This BunRoom *hasta* smell like US!.

Because I am werried by Whut's Happinin Around Heer. With alla this cleaning and wiping up and Taking Things Away toda Storage Centre, I am werried that mebbe sumfing is gonna happin Wif US! Where are WE gonna go? Whut's gonna happin' to Our Warren? Da Dawg has No Cloo, but he oftin doesn't. Da Catz, as usual, are just uppystairs, doing Nuffing. So that Leaves Us Bunnies to Re-Mark on ebberyfing, and try to Figger Out Whut's Gonna Happin.

So I'm just Doin' My Job. And doin' it wiffa Blog, too. I'm Re-Markin' 'bout Whut's Going On Around Heer. Which is "I Dunno" and "Looks Like Moovin' But I Dunno Where".

But I got Cloos... It's sumfing wif Dis Houz, anna Stairs, anna Back Gardin anna Growin' ob 'Maters, Romaine, and Tatties. Oh, anna werd "Organic" is in it, too. And so is "Property". So Far, So Good. And it is Happinin' All Around Me, so if I just keep my Ears Up, I will find out *Whut's Goin' On*, lemme tell you!

----------------------------------------------- By George.!

Posted by Our Warren at 10:30 AM EDT

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This morning, a birdie landed onna sill, just outside the window of Dadda's Office.

So, of course, Beep-da-Udder-Cat, who was lying along the back obba Foo-Ton, saw it and sumfing inside of her kitty-head *clicked* and set her to finking that instead of being a fat, fuzzy, smiling, furry-purry, she was a lean, mean, stalking, wild-fing kitty-machine.

And Dadda called out to Maman, "Hey, come lookit my birdie."

So Maman left me sitting onna Foo-ton in her Study and Missy serriously checking the edges obba Study floor for vines and rocks, and went to see Whut Dadda Wanted.

And, sure enough, there wassa birdie sitting onna window sill, cheeping away, and there was Beep, balanced onna top obba Foo-ton, with her ears pricked forwards like tiny radars and her tail trembling back-and-forth, trying to keep her bowling-ball-sized rear-end frum rolling Wun Way-Or-da-Udder.

And Maman was like, "Whut does Beep think she's doing?"

And Dadda was like, "She thinks she's hunting. Like KayCee."

And they both started laughing, and Maman came back innu her Study and sat down at her desk.

Now I know that NoBunny laughs at Empress KayCee Kitty. She issa Queen Cat who lives with Phil. He rescued her when he was twelve years old, and she was the Furst Cat to ever live in Our Warren - bifore Cokie-da-Fat-Cat, and bifore Beep-da-Udder-Cat. She is *So Impawtant*, in fact, that when Phil went innu The Navy, they axted him "Who is your Next Ob Kin?" and he replied, "KayCee." and that's Whut They Wrote on the 'Fishul Navy Documents. Cokie-da-Fat-Cat admits that KayCee taught him everyfing he knows, and he admits that she wassa Queen Cat in his Chowder, and everybunny knows that in Cat Culture, Queen Cats come Furst (even if *rilly* big Maine Coon Cats, like Our Cokie hate to admit it!). 

So ennyways, KayCee lives over at Phil's 'Partmint and rules over his Chowder ob Five Cats: Tobi (The Polite Cat), Munchkin (Maman calls her "Miscreant" - and she answers to it!), Lilly (Baby-cat) and Oscar (who was found inna trash can). And only Maman can get away with calling KayCee names, like "Princess Priss" and "Empress Evil" and KayCee rides around the 'Partmint on top of Phil's head and sleeps atta top of Phil's bed, because Everyfing She Sees Belongs To Her.

And Queen Cats, like KayCee, have Huge Diggity, and you are NEVER, EVER sus'posed to laugh at them!

So Cokie was lounging onna Foo-ton over frum me and he stretched out on his back, showing his ample tummy and said, "*I* bemember KayCee Lookin' Stoopit."

And I was like, "Rilly?"

And Cokie was like, "Yup." and he paddle-pawed atta air, and then looked at me. "You know the ScreenPorch?"

And I was like, "Of course I know the ScreenPorch. Phil said yestidday that he's gonna help Maman and Dadda get it ready to Go Out On nextest week as soon assa wedder clears up a little and gets Warm."

And Cokie was like, "That'll be cool. Habbin'a 'Partmint is all right, but it will be nice to switch venues. I could use a change of scenery, even if I do have to Go Downnas