Well, Maman sed dat I have to stawt typin inna Blog ebbery day frum now on. She sed Belinda wuld 'spect it ob me, an I know she's rite aboud'dat, cos Belinda told me she 'spected sumbun to keep uppa Hay Diaries for hur when she left forda Rainbow Bridge. She sed dat wun ob us wuld feel da urge to type, an I guess dat sumbun is me, cos I amma wun dat is feelin fings an typin dem down.
Cos dis mornin, well, I am feelin preddy good. An I hab lerned sumfing 'portant, too, an Belinda sed dat dis issa kind ob fing dat I shuld type inna Hay Diaries - 'portant stuff.
So heer issa 'portant fing: Lub conkors all.
Keep dis in mind while I tell you how I commed to wearn it.
Hokay, dis is how my day stawted:
I god up, cos I amma Bonded Bunny now, an I hadda dwink ob wadder, an I had sum hay, wike Hunny sed I shuld, an den I hadda toss wiffa toy, an den I did a widdle gwoom on Missy's hed (cos dis is whutta good husbun does, she sed) just to show hur dat I care (cos I do. She's a wunnerful Missy!).
An den I wint ober nextest to da lattice an sed "Mornin" to Clover (cos I'mma gud neighbour), an I was jus'aboud to gib a neighbourly "Yo" to Beebe-Bunny!! (who is bonded to Clover), whin he sticks his nose fru da lattice an says to me,
"YO! Ged your paws offa my wommin."
An I'm wike, "Yo, Beeb."
Now you godda unnerstand dat Beeb don meen annyfing by dis "my wommin" stuff. He'ssa small bunny, bud he's older den me an he's got whut Maman calls "ishoos". Wun ob his ishoos is dat he finks alla gurl-buns inna Warren are his. Dis is nod troo, bud as Maman says, id's his fantasy, an normally, id don't hurt nobun, so wet him habbit.
You see, Maman says dees ishoos are nod Beebe's fault. Id has sumfing to do wiffa fakt dat (an dis is hard for me to unnerstand, so hang in dere wif me fora minit) whinna V-E-T wint to snatch da Beeb's berries, dere were udder bits in'im, so he's not 'zacktly a male or a female, he's confoozled frum his insides out. He's male sorta by agreemint, cos ackchually, da V-E-T just gibbed up an snatched not onwy da poor widdle guy's berries, bud ebberting else in dere, too. Maman sed Beeb'ssa "Troo Her-maf-fro-dite" which is berry rare an speshul, bud which also makes him wun big Pain Inna Rear Sekshuns, cos he finks he'ssa Super Boy-Bun an alla gurl-bunnies are bonded to him.
Ennyways, Maman sed I hab to be nice to him onna'kount ob dis stoopit idea ob his issn't rilly his idea so much as it issa "ishoo" which issn't his fault. Or sumfing.
Hunny says, "Bugger dat fora game ob soldjers." an calls him "Yoboy." bud poor old Hunny has bin kinda onna grumpy side since Belinda wint toda Bridge. Maman sed Hunny needs to be more "Chair-it-table" an Hunny says, "Bugger dat, too."
Mouse sed dat, no madder whut Maman says, I hab to uphold my manhood, whutebber dat meens.
So heer we are dis mornin. An I'm nod doin ennyfing in partikular, an suddenwy, Beebe comes innu Missy an my habbytat!
An I'm wike, "Yo Beeb. Whut'ssup?"
An heer he is, wookin up at me sayin, "I'mma berry BIG rabbit an I'm gonna beet your butt for touchin MY wommin!"
An Missy is wike, "Oh Pleeeeeeeezh!"
An I'm finkin, "Uh oh."
An den Missy hollars out, "Hey Clober! He's ober heer agin!"
An Clover *fumps* wif her big back foot (an she's gots nice wuns, wike Missy, but Clover hassa Sexy Rexy toes), an she yells, "Beebe-Bunny, get your widdle round white butt back inn'ere!"
An it's wike Beebe can't heer hur, cos he standin dere facin me, all puffed out, twyin to wook twice his normal small size.
An he growls ad me, "George, dis issa wast straw! I'm gonna show you who issa Top Bun in dis Warren."
Well, I'm wike, surprised, wike. Cos ebberybunny inna Warren knows datta onwy Top Bun in Our Warren ebber was Belinda, an when she left to go toda Bridge to be wif Hawthorn, Hunny taked ober, bud he's berry old an tired an he don' much wike Top Bunnin enny more. He's onwy doin it cos he says dere is nowun else t'do it. Bud some nights he fortygeds to doda rounds, an udder nights, he says he don feel wike it, an he doesn't sort out enny pwoblems so much as he tells us not to hab dem. Inna way, you can't blame him. He's thirteen yeers old an he's bin Top Bun an retired, an now he hasta go back to doin it. It's not fair on him, rilly.
But Mouse says he's nod reddy to be Top Bun onna'count ob he's too noo toda Warren, an I'm too young an not 'Tellygint enuf to beda Top Bun, an none obba gurls wanna be Top Bun, an Beebe, well, Beebe issa few strands short obba full bale ob hay onna'count ob his "ishoos". So we kinda do an don't habba Top Bun, bud it shur as heck issn't Beebe.
So I was kinda 'sprised whin Beebe sed he was gonna show me he was takin ober assa Top Bun.
Bud I didn habba whole wotta time to be susprised, cos while I was still doin it, Beebe sorta popped uppina air an wanded on my hed!
So I shook my hed an he falled off.
An I wooked at him an sed, "Maman sed I can't hurt you."
An Clover calls out fru da lattice, "Yeah don hurt him. Dat's my job."
Now I know Clover didn' meen dat jus dat way, but she's Beebe's wife-bun, an she does gen'rally manage to keep him frum doin any rilly, seriouswy stoopid fings, wike bitin Dadda. Howebber, she can't keep him frum doin alla stoopit fings he takes innu his hed to do. An jus at dis momint, he was inna middul ob habbin a rilly stoopit idea an she culdn't stop it.
So Beeb takes anudder rush ad me, an Clover *fumps* an so does Missy. An Mouse, hearin da commoshun, he stawts wif a *fump*, too, onwy, he's god widdle feets, so it's nod much obba *fump*, bud preddy serious for alla dat. Hunny, bein deaf assa doorstop, is still 'sleep wif Poet.
An Beebe pops up inna air, jumps ober me an wands onna top ob Missy.
Well, Missy's a Big Gurl. An she's da panicky type. So don't she jus panick an go runnin aroun in cirkuls, shoutin,
"Gedoff, GEDOFF, GED'EMOFF ME!!"
Wif Beebe clingin on to hur butt tighter denna tick.
At which point, she runs innu me, anna free ob us go down inna pile ob paws, fur, wegs, toys, ears, hay, butts an hebbin knows whut else.
An den dere issa mad scramble.
An whin I ged up, I'm wearin Beebe on my hed agin.
An I'm finkin to myself: "Dis has godda stop."
Bud Maman won't wet us bite. She has god "ROOLZ" abouddit an you don go bweakin Maman's Roolz or she says you won' ebber see anudder tweat forda "restob your widdle wife" (which is preddy serious). Now Hunny says dis is nod troo, dat he's bwokin ebbery Rool Maman's ebber made an den sum, an he still geds alla tweats he wants, bud I'm nod takin chances.
So whut's a peace-lubbin bunny todo? An it's troo, I amma lubber, nodda fighter. Maman sed so. She allus sayin dat I'mma lubber. An Maman is also allus sayin dat lub conkors all.
Luckily, I bemembered dat while I was wearin Beebe wike a hat.
So I shook Beebe off my hed, an gwabbed hold obb'em - an bememberin whut Maman had sed, I hugged him.
Yes, I hugged Beebe wike he was my dearest fwiend. Wike he was my dawling widdle brudder. Wike be was my sweetie-pie angel bunny. I hugged him, an hugged him, an hugged him sum more...
An den Dadda comed innu da Bun Room.
An Beebe calls out, "YO! I GODDIT,Dad! I'm WINNIN'."
So I hugged him sum'more, jus to be onna safe side.
An Missy's shouts: "GEDDA WIDDLE PERVERT OUTTA HEER!"
An Clover's shouts: "HE MAY BEA PERVERT, BUD HE'S MY PERVERT!"
An Beeb is now goin step by step wif me huggin him, towards his own habbytat.
An Mouse is shoutin, "Bite his butt! Bite his butt!"
An den Hunny calls out, "Will you guys shut up? I'm twyin to sleep ober heer! Hab sum hay an knock dis stuff off!"
An den I heer sum skufflin aroun in his habbytat, an den he shouts agin, "Whut? George is gonna bite sumbun's butt? Bugger! I godda see dis."
An now Mouse is jumpin up an down in his habbytat, yellin, "Bit his butt! Bite his butt!"
An I'm huggin Beebe, alla time bememberin whut Maman sed: "Lub conkors all."
An den I seed Dadda's hand reach down an Beebe goes up, an I falls offa Beeb an lands *spwaat* onna floor.
An Dadda says, "Dat's enuf, George."
An he wooks at Beebe, who's siddin on his hand, nod ebben twyin to struggle, an he says, "You hadda'nuff, Beebe?"
An Beebe wooks up at Dadda an mudders, "Yo."
So Dadda puds Beebe back innu his own habbytat an Clover stawts wickin his ears an I kin heer hur say, "Who's mawmie's stpopit widdle man?"
An Dadda says to'im, "Well, dat'll wearn ya, ya daft widdle sod."
An Hunny finally *fumps* wif his furry back foots an calls oud, "Bugger!I MISSED IT!"
An as I'm wyin dere, I finks to myself, "You know, George, Maman is rite: Lub does conkor all. Ebben Ishoos."