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Sunday, 6 February 2005
Mood:  lucky
Now Playing: One Great Warren
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit

You know, one ob my good friends an sumbunny that I admire, Sheeba, has her own blog now, and she brought up a berry good Point:

Yes, it is berry troo dat we hab lost alla Senior Bunnies who made up da Original Our Warren now.

And dis is berry sad. In fact, Our Maman still cries ober Blinda's toys, an Hunny's Tin Cup, an Maggie's spoons, an ebbery time she wooks atta Our Warren Home Page and sees alla piccies obba bunnies who hab gone on to da Rainbow Bridge she cries sum more. Maman is berry sad rite now.

But Sheeba brought uppa Point an dat Point was dat while it is sad dat so many ob Our Warren hab left us for da Bridge, alla dem libbed long, happy lives in Our Warren.

Hunny and Hawthorn hadda Bunny Ministry at St. Luke's and Belinda ebben got in onna act. Belinda was web-mistress for RIFRAF's web-site an helped form an organnyzashun for bunnies to hab a voice onna WerldWideWeb an to improb housebunny Rites. Maggie an Hunny were IN Maman and Dadda's wedding as da Flower Bun an Ring Bearer Bun. Smokey went to talk to childrens at Parkway School aboudda HouseBunnies an How To Be A 'Sponsible Pet Owner. Hawthorn visted sick hoomins atta hospiddles. An sumbun allus went toda Blessing Obba Annymals atta Cathedral an St. Luke's.

A lotta bunnies here did a lotta stuff in dere lives.

But as Sheeba says, she is sad for da bunnies who went to da Bridge who nebber got 'dopted, who nebber got rescued; da bunnies who died ob neglect in back yards an sheds an basements, in tiny dark cages, or let loose in strange parks wif dawgs or foxes or who were used to train pitbulls to kill or who were made innu fur wraps for Paris Hilton an her kind, or who were made innu stew an all udder horrible fings. An it happens all ober da werld.

Sheeba is sad forda bunnies who were tortured by medical labs, and cruel hoomins, like da poor "Lucky" who was taped up wif fireworks and thrown into a pond just cos her hoomin didn't want her. Her hoomin keeps gettin "continues" on his trial. He thought it wassa joke to blow up his pet bunny wif fireworks.

But Lucky got saved. She got a noo home an is safe now.

But what if no one had bin there to save her? Whut aboudda poor dawg in Philadelphia who got gasoline poured on him and set on fire cos he stole a sandwhich cos he was hungry? He hadda be helped to da Bridge by kind strangers who had no udder way to help him, cos he was hurt too bad.

Whut aboud alla poor furkids and featherkids and finkids who die wifout knowing anyone to love them? Sheeba is sad about them, too, cos dey hab gone to the Rainbow Bridge without a voice, without a home, many without even a name.

Cos you know whut? Enny one ob dose poor nameless, voiceless, helpless bunnies culd hab bin one ob us.

It could hab bin Heatherington (ATB) - cos he was inna 'quarium, inna pet store window, next to a snake, all skert an on cedar shavings that are poison, wifout food, till Maman an Phil got him out.

It could hab been Willow (ATB) - cos she wassa Easter Bunny nobody wanted to buy an was gonna be fed to a snake! But Maman an Phil got her furst.

It could hab bin Hunny (ATB) - cos he was atta Yard Sale, wiffa tag on him dat sed "Rabbit with cage $5.00", sittin all day inna hot sun wif no food or wadder, hardly breathin, till Maman got there and grabbed him up an taked him home to start Our Warren.

It coulda bin Mouse - cos Mouse's owner wasn't 'lowed to keep him ennymore an he was takin him toda V-E-T to help him ober da Bridge cos he was 'fraid whut wuld become ob him atta shelter or if he was sold inna noospaper. He lubbed him too much to let him go to a bad place, but didn't know enny good places, till he heard 'bout Maman an Dadda an Phil.

It coulda bin Smokey (ATB) - cos sumbunny wanted to buy him to kill him for food, till Maman an Phil gotted dere furst!

It could hab bin me - left inna box wif nuffin inna V-E-T's office, till Maman comed and getted me just bifore Belinda went toda Bridge.

We was all found cos we was meant to be found an 'dopted. We was all chosen. We was all berry watched ober by SumBun Speshul. We was all berry lucky an blessed.

But, wike Sheeba, I am also sad for dose dat weren't gibben enny chance at all.

Well, I was rescued. I hab a Voice onna Web. I am one obba lucky buns. I habba Gift an I hab to use it as best I kin to help udders.

An dat's why I wanna use my voice to tell hoomins 'bout kindness and how wunnerful we are, an 'bout rescues an 'bout how precious Life rilly is. Cos we all share dis planet, Alla Us Togedder, as Hunny usta say, One Great Warren, an as Belinda usta say, NoBunny OnAlone!

If you hab a voice, you have a Gift, too. Please use it to help save sumbun who has no voice, cos dose ob us wifout voices hab udder Gifts to share. Like Love - Companionship - Life.

One ob Maman's hoomin friends is a berry 'pawtant lady. Her name issa Reverend Doctor Virginia M. Sheay and she said dis: "We are stewards, not owners, of this planet."

Which means, Maman says, dat sumday all hoomins will be asked to gib an Account ob how well dey took care ob Da Master's Werld. She said it means hoomins habba 'sponsibility to wook afta da Voiceless and dose who journey wif us fru Life. Maman geds berry pash'net 'bout dis stuff an I don't unnerstand alla stuff she talks and writes aboud, but I do know dat dees few fings I've listed down heer will help. Pwease consider using your Gifts an join wif me an' help udders...

1.) Please don't wear sumbunny else's fur. Dey hadda die just so you can be in fashun. What is fashunable aboud wearin sumbun else's skin?
2.) Don't ebber gib innu da inclination to be cruel. Walk on dat udder critter's paws. Feel dere heart beat in your heart an hear dere widdle thoughts inside ob your head.
3.) Neuter and spay your pets. Don't breed. Dere are too menny ob us wifout homes as it is.
4.) You can't gib life. You have no right to take it away, unless you are a V-E-T an are being humane.
5.) Make sure dat hoomins who are cruel to animals are punished and that laws are made tougher to protect animals who cannot protect themselves! We hab no voice in your gobbermint. We can't make laws or have a say inna Courtroom. But YOU can.

One Great Warren, Alla Us Togedder; NoBunny OnAlone.

Posted by Our Warren at 2:59 PM EST
Saturday, 29 January 2005
George In Charge (If Mouse Doesn't Mind)
Now Playing: Garden Plans

Maman is sad because alla bunnies who have gone to the Bridge are buried at the Old House and can't be moved to the New House. Da Mom-Mom who is Maman's mawmie didn't like us - thought we was rodents! Ennyways, Maman is all upset.

So Dadda called Mr Steve who deals in dirt. Not just little bits of dirt, but truck loads offa stuff, an Dadda 'splained to Mr Steve that he wanted the area where alla bunny cemetary is to be buried unner a huge pile ob top soil.

No Mr Steve is a nice man. Maman's father, our Bim, teached him in school an Mr. Steve says Bim saved him frum becomin' a "punk" (whutebber dat is) and teached him to be 'sponsible. Got him to be 'Tellygint, like Hunny and Belinda did for me. So Mr. Steve said he would help Dadda rake a coupla tonnes ob top soil ober da cemetary an replant it wif nice grass so no one would disturb da bunnies dat was dere - ebber.

So dat made Maman feel a widdle bedder.

Den Maman gotta idea to make a garden heer at dis house for ALLA BUNNIES an to hab a plant for each bunny. Dere will be ...
Tea Roses for Hunny cos he was so sweet an he was her Boy
A Hawthorn bush for Hawthorn
A Smoke Bush (dy nomrally grow innu trees but Dadda finks he kin keep it small) for Smokey
Some Heather for Heatherington
A Willow Tree atta top obba triangle dey gots planned for Willow-bunny wif a bird baf unner-neaf it.
An dey are gonna shop aroud for sumfing suitable for Luckie-bun, an dey are not sure whut to get Belinda, cept it hasta be steck'tackular cos she wassat kind of bunny.
And dere will be a Herb Garden nextest to the Kitchen door cos all English Gardens habba herb garden nextest toda door, an Maman is gonna try growing Herbs In Pots like Laura Hardy always does. (Only it allus werks for Auntie Laura!)

An Maman has graph paper an hassa Protracktor anna Ruler dat she borrowed frum Bim Drawin Board and she werks on drawin the Garden at nite while Dadda reads. He looks over an says it shouldn't be too hard an den calls up his friend, Mr. Lee, who hassa Roto-Tilly.

And Mr. Steve is gonna take out one obba trees dat wooks wike it's waaaaay too big an alla roots are onna top obba "lawn". And Dadda said he anna Mr Don nextest door are gonna dig a drainaige sumpfing so we don't getta pond atta end obba yard ebbery time it rains. Dadda knows alla'bout dis stuff frum Inkwand an Mr. Don knows alla'bout it frum libbin inna middle obba back ob beyond.

And no werd frum Sistah. Marc da dawg is mad at her cat, doh an keeps chasin it uppastairs. Maman finks dat Marc used to be told to do dis alla time, and now he fink he should. He's 'fraid he's not gonna get food eidder, so Maman is preddy sure dat dere were times when da munny she gabe sistah for food went for sumfing else. An her "boyfrien" found Our Phil's web-site an wanted to know why "sum pipple" were so "stingy" an meen to dere rellytibs. It's allus hard when you leeb a Warren. It is bedder to stay an werk an make da Warre a bedder place. You mite not ged ebbery ting you want, but you at least get part ob it. Wike we gots da dawg an Mouse gets to pee on him. For now. I herd Maman orderin da habbytat dat will wet her moob Mouse outta da way obba dawg. Mouse will hab ot find udder fun - but I also fink she mite be wookin for a gurl for him. Now that's gonna be a JOB!

And I'm werking hard at keepin fings runnin smoofly atta Warren. Da pootie box is fulla pooties, but da yard is more fulla snow. Dadda said we is atta impasse.

We'll see abouddat.

Posted by Our Warren at 12:38 PM EST
Thursday, 27 January 2005
I, George II
Now Playing: NoBunny OnAlone - EBBER!

Dis is such a sad day. Da Black Rabbit has comed for Our Oscar Ball.

Our Osacr Ball lived with Auntie Carla in a pwace called SoCal. Sounds wike "SoWhut", but it's called "SoCal" an it nebber rains dere at all 'ept for a liddle tiny bit - whih is sumfing I hab learned.

But Oscar's pickchur is ebberywhere. He is sorta the FACE OB PB cos he is onna Hareware shirts an totes. Maman wants an Oscar Tote now too, like she got for AunTammy who carries her tote to werk and brags to ebberybun dat she knows "da bunny onna bag".

And Maman wants to get Phil-da-Lad annuder Oscar shirt dat says "I don't do windows" cos Phil says Windows XP issa pain in his patoot, an Oscar kinda sums up Phil-da-Lad's Phillyosophy ob Lif.

Afta she read about Oscar, Maman put on Pakybell's "Cannon" to listen to (It's got nuffin to do wif guns or fings dat go *bang*).

A long time ago, in Inkland, she had a student who couldn't play the violin at all, but he loved this piece of music. He wassa 'dult and he came wif his kidlet to her community class to "go on" frum where he had stopped learning violin in school - which was like from the furst day's class.

He had hands as big as shubbles (as dey say up Norf in Lancashire), an sum peoples made fun ob him and sum peoples told him to his face dat he was too old an too stoopit for dis "cwassikal musik stuff" an dat it was "above him" but he had will, and inside his soul, which in many ways was dark and sad and full of hurt, he had delicacy. And dose are da fings dat Maman, nebber habbin learned aboud da udder fings, was waching for.

And he asked Maman if he could learn to play Pakybell's Cannon in her class.

And Maman looked at him and she thought to herself that he had the will, and there was hope in his eyes and yes, she could teach him - IF - and it was a rilly big "if" - he would follow through on his desire "to want". Cos many hoomins "Want" to play dis find or dat fing, and dey come to Maman and fink dat she will just somehow make it happen in a year or so, like waving a magic stick ober dere heds or speaking sekret werds.

Maman is a magician, but she cannot do "wants".

But dis person didn't "want". He wanted da music more den wadder, more den Craisins, more den nice werds frum odder peoples. An dat is whut she saw in his eyes.

So she ordered up the music. Not the cut-down, milk-with-toast, kiddies' music, but the real stuff that doesn't come wif pikchurs an potted hist'ries.
An den she found anudder violinist who wanted to sharpen his Grade 7 skills, an she sat down at her desk an adapted the 'cello part anna coninuoso part, she taught them Pakybells Cannon.

And since she was startin frumma beginning, she made a hole in their hearts that would just fit the music. She used tennise balls to hold their wrists away from their instruments and taught them to bow by slicing tomoatoes paper-thin wifout bruising da skin. She bought dem bags of peppermints to teach dem notes on lick'rish staves and spoke in Italian to dem, and made dem walk around "Andnte".

And most of all she played the music over and over until it came alive somewhere insdie of them. And on walks, she told them stories she made up about the music and tied the stories to the land over which they walked, so that here, beside a willow, a pony danced, and there, just down the Downham Road came a ships' Officer, long away at the wars. And she made them believe that this music was a background for life, that it played while the sycamore tree grew and the cloud patches dropped fitful gusts of rain across Pendle Hill.

And seated before her fire, she made them transcribe their parts on staved paper so that they knew the shape and feel and weight of each note, and how every note was as valuable as every other note, and how they dovetailed into each other, and how a "Canon" was not a "rondelay" and how music came to be and the mechanicas it used to touch the heart.

"I played it in my sleep!" one of them said one lesson.

And she asked if he played alone or with others and he said with others.

It wasn't until he could play his part, alone, all by himself, that she was pleased with him.

And so while the other teachers thought she was wasting her time not "teaching by the book" one technique after another, her two students got all the techniques as they were needed in Packybell.

These were Maman's last students. After that, her bones began to grind and the nerves were trapped and her hands lost their strength. She tried playing for only a quarter of an hour a day, but it only got worse. the dotors took pikcurs of her neck and shoulders - but Maman says you play the 'cello with the whole body.

And so, one day the 'cellist couldn't play, you see.

So maybe that is what it is with Oscar. He has made the Oscar-shaped hole in our hearts and showed us how to care for rabbits, and how to be rabbits of few words and outstanding presance. He has shown us how to be important just by being who we are.

Oscar with us, showed us the way - and not the rabbit-childer's way, but the full rabbit way - to love, to care, to roll into a ball and to bring joy to others. Just because he was here. Oscar showed us how to be rabbits of few words an huge presance. When he talked, we listened.

But like the 'cellist whose time is no longer to play, it's now not time for Oscar to be HERE. He has business elsewhere. Maman is still trying to find her place "somewhere else", but Oscar has found his place - being Oscar, a bun of few words and great heart.

Come and follow; come and be. We are all part of one great warren, linked by silver chains forged forged of golden links of love. The chain goes on forever, each link taking something from the link before it and passing it on to the link that comes after.

Maman has no notion what becane of her students. Their own lives may have dragged them down, their frailities perhaps overcame them, or perhaps they took their violins and soared like kestrels against the blue skies over Swanside Plantation. She always told them to leave their cases open, that someone would venture by and be drawn to play, that instruments call to the pure of heart in their own undiminished voices.

Maman's 'cello is closed so that it cannot call to her. It is fragile and old and needs work before it can be played. Maybe Dadda will get her a practice 'cello if someone helps him find one - but somewhere, close to the surface of Maman's heart, maybe deeper in other hearts, the music plays on if only as a faint memory.

And everyone who hears music in their heart is the better for it - because it speaks of a time when they were honest in their desires and their only wish was to have that music inscribed upon their hearts. It was a time of innocense and they were the better for it - just as we are the better for having known Oscar Ball, with his feets on the computer and his dark eyes shining, laughing at all our pseudo-seriousness.

Gentle Oscar, Belinda told me that where you are there is lovely music playing all of the time and the greenest grass you've ever imagined. When it's my turn, I'll come and join you. She said the burrows are swept and clean and just the right size for a bunny to roll into a ball. Hunny will show you the way. He was very wise. Just don't let Belinda talk you into "sumpwace bedder" - Hunny knows all the best places for lounging. So does Hawthorn. Belinda never was very good at lounging.

And I, George, will stay here until it's my time. I promised Belinda and I promised Hunny and I will do it. And look, Oscar! I've learned already that music is a language not exclusive to hoomins, that it has the power to heal, and the power to give - and so gently, too, that even the tears it inspires are soft, like the morning's newest dew. I can gather them from Maman's cheeks in my fur and lick Maman's nose and let her know that I know what every bunny in a Warren already knows - and you know it too, and so does Wally - that we are not afraid. The Cyrckle comes full turning, and we have more than Hope, we Know.

Until a little later, dear friend!

Posted by Our Warren at 2:39 PM EST
Wednesday, 26 January 2005
I, George
Now Playing: Top Bun (if Mouse says it's hokay)

It is Time.

Belinda sed so when I was sleepin last nite. It was like she and I were talking togedder and I waked up a dif-frunt bunny,

I am now George. It is my job now to reed da noos wif Maman an commint on it.

It is my job to commint on ebberyfing dat goes on around heer.

If a dawg or a cat geds outta line, I gotta deal wiffit.

If dere is nod enfu hay, I hafta be da Reminder Bunny.

I hafta show da way when gettin my toenails clipped.

Belinda said dat I am 'Tellygint now, but dat no matter how 'tellygint I ged, there will allus be noo stuff to learn about.

She also sed dat I have a big job ahead of me.

She sed I have to make Maman CARE again.

Not care aboutta bunnies, cos she cares for us alla time, but she is habbin trubble doin fings dat don't require crying. Sbe needs to go out cos she is 'fraid. So I have to be brave for her.

She hasta getta 'dresses onna stickers to send fing to hoomins. And take da boxes to peoples.

She hasta get dressed an not be fraid ob starbin an stuff dat isnt gonna happin.

So Tidday, I am makin her do da laundry wif us. Here inna Bun Room cos Dadda and his friend Lee-da-Lektrician habbint taken outta old washer/dryer and put inna noo one that will save us on space and make the Noo Bun Room Bigger. And Maman hasta see aboutta banking stuff, tiday, too.

So dis is I, George, who is now a growed up bunny, plannin on geddin more 'Tellygint by da day. Mamam lost a lotta her confydence. She put onna pawty an atta wast momint alla peebles frumma place where she werked fortygotted to come. And only one called to tell her in advance. So she was all dressed up, with food out an all and she cried an cried.

Hoomins fortyged how bad dey hurt odder hoomins feelins.

Den dis stoopit boy who Sistah went to live wif, he writed to Our Phil that Sistah's family "deserted" her, cos she has no munny. An Our Phil was like, "well whut about whut you stole frumma Mom-mom? What aboud da munny Dadda and Momma paid for her elektrick?" and he was like "They aren't doing it now. They abandoned her!" And it's like no - when YOU leave a warren, it is your choice to leave it. It's not the Warren's job to chase you down and gib you stuff. Specially when you said you nebber wanted to be near the Warren again, an abandoned ebberyone.

But Maman cried. She has no more daughter cos dis one said loud and a lot that she dont want Maman as a mawmie. It's passing strange. I looked and looked for a mawmie and couldn't find one, and here was a perfectly good Maman that wasn't wanted. It wasn't dat Maman choosed not to have Sistah, it was Sistah who chose to hab no Maman. No blanket ob lies will ebber cobber up the troof dat Sistah was never once told to go, never once frown out. All dat was said wassat dere wuld be no new hoomins brought innu da Warren. But den da werds got all twisted, till dey comed out saying something else.

But fings is like that, I guess. Som hoomins play wif werds like toys, tossing them around until they are upside down and bwoken. But words dat are the Trrof have power and don't break. Dey stay alive in the air.

NoBunny was driven frum dis Warren. Nobunny was abandoned. One bunny DECIDED to leave on her own and make her own warren. And that is right.

So from now on I am I, George. And I am angry that hoomins are stupid and ruthless and liars and hurt each other to the hurt of the Warren. I am berry angry dat da Black Rabbit seems to be looking for Maman's Maman. Dis is a lot, all at once.

Dat is why Belinda came an hadda talk wif me. She took the bestest care of the Warren, she and Hunny and now I have to take the bestest care of it. The whole werld issa Warren an we take care of each udder alla time, NoBunny OnAlone.

I knowed it was Belinda who talked to me while I was sleepin, cos she hopped straight up to me an said to me, "I can't be habbin wif dis stuff - an needer can you, Babby George! Can't be habbin wiffit and it hasta end. Dis Warren has ben Weederwess Too Wong - nuffin's gettin dun! So you ged out dere an do it, Bunnyboy, cos if you don, den nobun else will!"

So dat's me. I, George. And dis will be the Warren where I belong. Mouse said he'll fink it ober. As long as he gets to pee onna dawg, he's all for me being Top Bun.

But this is Our Warren. Alla us Togedder, NoBunny OnAlone.

Posted by Our Warren at 12:24 PM EST
Saturday, 22 January 2005
Got me a domain!
Mood:  celebratory
Now Playing: Ooo-Rah! We're Rollin' Now!
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit

How let's see how dis fing werks...

Posted by Our Warren at 1:46 PM EST
Wednesday, 19 January 2005
New 'Sponsibilities
Mood:  sad
Now Playing: George Figgers It Our
Topic: Me 'n' Mouse

Well, Maman said it is down to me. I gotta take what Belinda said and whuta Hunny said and take it to heart.

She and I hadda long talk last night. She said that Beebe didn't wanna be Top Bun and was happy yellin' "YO!" and he's busy pushing raisins over in Clover's direction so she will groom him, cos baskically, he's fixing up to be lazy.

Then There is Mouse. Mouse would make a good Top Bun, but he isn't SoShul enough. And Maman is getting really cheesed off with having to clean up his callin cards. He's leaving them for me every time I stick my nose in to be neighbourly. Maman said this might ease up a little when he gets his noo habbytat that is already on order at Mr. Robert's Pet Products and will be very nice and have room innit for two little Netherland Dwarfs. Then Maman said, inna Spring when it is not so cold and she and Dadda can get lost wif confydence, they are gonna go to Laura Warner's South Jersey Rabbit Rescue and let Mouse pick out his own girl friend.

Maman figgers this will calm him down a lot.

But there is still a LOT to do heer.

As Maman sed, "Dis issa momint and, George, you areda bun."

Missy sed she just hopes I don't get a rilly fat head over dis.

The thing is, there is SO MUCH going on!

Sistah Beffy has gone and left for good. She doesn't want to know about us. She put her dog inna shelter! And she won't tell Maman which one so Maman can give them Codi's pedigree papers or spay papers, or even send a cheque. Poor Codi is only a year old, she hasn't been trained, although Maman signed her up for dog-school classes and paid for them. And Codi bites and bullies. So Maman feels bad.

Beffy's cat, Gidget got left inna upstairs bafroom which is where Maman found her all OnAlone. Cokie was surprised.

Marc the Dawg is very confoozled by ebberyting, but that dawg puzzles easy.

Then Maman's mawmie fell down and broke her hip and isn't waking up inna hospital that is preddy far away from here.

And Maman can't stop cryin no matter how cute I am. even though Mouse peed on my nose! I was only saying "hello", too.

And the other house still has to be cleaned out and fixed up, it needs oil inna heeter dragon inna basement Hunny told me about and its gonna snow.

So I'm taking charge of the Cute Factor. Someone has to. Belinda would make me and Hunny would say it's the right thing to do. So yestidday. I sat down with Mouse and we figgered out how to werk the cheque book. We ordered some cute stuff from Hareware. And we werked reely hard on drawing plans for a garden for Hunny with a Tea Rose for Hunny (red) anna Tea Rose for Belinda (we though yello cos she'll just hate that) anna white Tea Rose for Hawthorn. And Maman's Granny's Birdbath will be innit.

And then, we typed to a lady we know who makes stained glass sun-catchers of our bunnies. And we're having some made. Hunny and Maggie furst, since they was the WeddingBunnies. Gotta write a cheque for that tidday.

So Mouse and I are gonna Top Bun Togedder if he will stop peeing on me. There is too much werk for one Top Bun. It's gonna take a Warren.

Hi, Alanna! You can come and see me soon! We can cuddle onna couch inna Reading room if Missy can cuddle, too. But she's not sure aboudda Pug. Nedder am I to be honest. We're senging vibes for PHIL!! Get that JOB you put in for and stop moanin' aboudda tummy ache. Eat veggies! You know that's half of Phil's pwoblem - he don't eat rite and he don't exstersize rite. Maman is sending you guys a Box. I will try to sneak in a pootie.

Posted by Our Warren at 9:49 AM EST
Friday, 14 January 2005
George Trying to Do The Right Stuff
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: Fankful For Whut I Got
I readed ebberyfing dat Unky Darin typed, and dat Auntie Laura Hardy typed and Auntie Patricia typed and whut SA said, and I guess you are all right, Belinda and Hunny left me when they knew the Time was right for them to go.

Pawt obba Cirkul.

And I am pawt obbit, too.

The Older Warren goes away to the Bridge and the Bridge is connected onna udder side to our hearts. All Hunny or Belinda has to do is to pull a string or somfing and I kin hear them, like a voice bemembered. So I can take whut they told me and use it now.

I'm not sure aboud going visiting yet. I visited last nite, but Maman anna Washing machine hadda argumint and dere was wadder onna floor. Den da Dawg came in wif big wet feets and mud and cos his mat was wet, he sat on it like he was 'sposed to and den his butt was wet. So then he went and wiped that on Cokie, who was not 'mused. So Cokie chased the Gidgie-cat uppa stairs innu the study and Maman scolded Cokie for being mean. Den da Dawg sat on Dadda's bare feets wif his wet behind and Dadda used a whole roll of kitchen towel to dry offa dawg who was preddy happy cos, stupid as he is, he thought he was getting petted.

Maman sed we badly need to bring som order outta chaos.

Well, she otta know, cos she keeps saying she's Da Queen ob Chaos.

So afta I stepped inna pubbdle inna Noo Bun Room which is also the Laundry Room, I went back inside my habbytat and said "YO!" to Beebe through the lattice and "YO!" to Mouse through the lattice onna udderside and Mouse said that ebberyfing heer is fine if they would stop opening da stoopit door to let the dawg out and why do they keep lettin' him back in for?

Oh, and the Catz is mad cos da Dawg don't like his food and is eating their food.

I figgered what da heck and had some hay and hadda nap. Like Hunny sed. Things don't look any dif'frunt now that I'm awake, but the catz have buggered off somewheres anna dawg is uppystairs inna study with Maman. So maybe Hunny had it right.

I wish he was here so I could tell him so.

Posted by Our Warren at 11:42 AM EST
Tuesday, 11 January 2005
I dinno what to say
Mood:  sad
Now Playing: I amma'Lone
Belinda was not my Mommy. She said so.

But she was like a Mommy

She told me whut to do. She sed "George, be 'Tellygiint'"

And when I didn't know how to be "Tellygint", she said, "Listen to Hunny,"

So Een though he was not my Mommy, I listened to Hunny. I ate hay an had naps, and I watched Maman and I learned to listen an 'gest buks. I did alla stuff dat he did, cos Hunny was Firteen, which is berry wise and 'Tellygint for a bunny.

And then, the Black Rabbit came a taked away Hunny.

And now it is down to Clover and Beebe and Mouse and Missy an me.

The Old Warren is all gone. Maman talks about Belinda and Hunny and Heatherington, and Smokey and Hawthorn and Bunnr, an alla udder bunnies who went to church in baskets and met bishops and started ministeries and helped udder hoomins, and now there is just us.

There is just the fibe ob us, all On Alone, trying to be 'Telligent and no one to help us get there.

Please come back, Hunny! Please come back! Dadda said they is gonna plant a pink Tea Rose over you inna garden with plaster bunnies dat got no smell and that there will be a bird baf. Hunny's Garden. And Maman saved your tin cup and Belinda's key's and Hawthorn's blankie so you can all come back and ebberyfind will be like it was! Oh please come back!

I'm too small for to be da 'Tellygint Rabbit in Our Warren. I'm not ebben a year old and nobun else says they can be it. Cept me. Cos I wassa one that was twained.

But I'm not redy! I'm not fully dun yet! Please come back and help me!

Ph what will I do? Ebberybunny leebs too soon...

Posted by Our Warren at 7:07 PM EST
Saturday, 4 December 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  chatty
Now Playing: Big Time
Topic: Movin' On!
So I got whut I wanted. I hadda werk at it, but I have finally pretty well convinced Maman that no hoomin can deterr a determined bunny.

The thing is, I live with Missy.

Not just "I *like* Missy." or "I *want* to *try* living with Missy." This is no *~bonding hextperiment~* that may or may not werk out.

I have known Missy a long time in bun-time and she knows me. We are alreddy a bonded pair.

This means that she and I have moved beyond that romatic song-writin' stuff I did before, innu the real-werld where we unnerstand that libbin togedder isn't all raisins and 'nanners, but hard pellets of mutual grooming and compromise.

We are bonded, have been bonded and will continue to be bonded.

Nobun gets sumfing for nuffin. And Missy is sumbun worth working to be with, lemme tell you.

So I stayed awake ALL last nite, and chewed a hole in record time from the li'l habbytat Dadda made for me, right into the Big Habbytat that I am used to sharing with Missy.

No goofing around with singing sad songs.

No whining Blogs about being hard-done-by.

No pooties about "getting even" or bragging.

I didn't unnerstand ebberyfing that was happening to me at furst - and I was mad about that - but then I realised that it was hokay, because I realised that unnerstanding ebberyfing wasn't going to help me get back to living with Missy. There is plenty of time for unnerstanding ebberyfing later - when I am living *with* Missy.

So I just set about making living with Missy come true.

I, George, made it happen the RIGHT way: I used my 'Tellygince and werked hard.

Missy is worth werking for. So I worked berry hard.

And you know whut? I'm sitting here beside Missy right now!

And now that I am living with Missy again, I am starting to unnerstand sum things!

1. The George Family Jools - well, I guess I don't need them. Jools don't make you 'Tellygint.
2. Sumtimes you lose stuff to get bedder stuff.
3. Sumtimes it hurts inna short run to feel bedder inna long run.
4. No matter how much you think you know, udder buns can know bedder - so nebber think you know it all, because you don't.
5. Good meddysin can taste really bad.

Belinda Bunny sed said dat ennybunny can grow Up, but only Smart bunnies can grow 'Tellygint.

And den Belinda Bunny sed: "An' Babby George, allus bemember dis - you are wun berry smart bunny!"

Hey, Belinda? See me now? I bemember!


Posted by Our Warren at 2:10 PM EST
Updated: Saturday, 4 December 2004 2:19 PM EST
Friday, 3 December 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  down
Now Playing: Under Pressure
Topic: Movin' On!
I have decided I do not like V-E-Ts.

I do not like cars.

I do not like a whole lotta things just now.

In fact, I amma Berry Dangerous George. So don't cross me.

I have also decided I do not like Maman or Dadda. For now.

Well, we'll see. I habben't made up alla my mind on dis one yet.

This comes afta some long considyashun, sittin inside my carrier in my habbytat. And gruntin'.

Shaddup, Hunny! (Inna werds ob Belinda.) I don't wanna hab enny hay and I don't wanna habba nap. Cos I hadda nap and I don't feel enny bedder. In fact, I feel worse.

It's like this:

I hadda go back to see that "Sharin" chicklet (as Beebe calls her) and I'm telling you, I AM NOT GOING BACK THERE AGAIN!

Yup, you heard me.

I've had it.

The first time wasn't too bad. She said I was preddy, and she petted me and gave me cuddles and then poked an prodded me, and stuk something in my ears to look in them and lifted up the bunny-lips to look at my teefies, and spreaded out my feets to look at my toes and alla that stuff.

The second time I was there I hadda nap and woke up missing parts ob ME.

I was a liddle bit confused onna issue obba missing parts, but I have now figgered it out and lemme tell you, I am steamed. Since this is a Family Blog, I can't tell you exactly which parts of me I'm missing, but let's just say dat when I took inventory, I discobbered that two huge gems have gone missin' outta the George Family Vault.

And nobunny consulted me!

And if that wasn't bad enough, yestidday, Maman got this look on her face when she and Dadda were makin' me drink that awful tastin' meddycin that Hunny is allus talkin' about.

And Maman sed, "George is swollen."

And I'm thinkin', "Hey, no joke! You'd be swollen too if you'd had the Vault robbed! Put me down!"

And Dadda sed, "Well, he'll have to go back to the doctor. That's what she said: 'If he's swollen, bring him right back.' I'll call as soon as I take you to work."

And Maman sighed and rubbed my ears and sed, "George, really, you shouldn't be doing this. I'm not in the least ready to move, nothing is done, the truck is coming tomorrow and now you're swollen."

And she thinks she has problems?

To date:
1. I have been poked and prodded.
2. I have been placed inna fake nap.
3. My bum hurts.
4. I can't sleep with Missy.
5. My habbytat is being taken apart.
6. My raisin ration has been cut down!
7. I haven't been groomed in twodays.
8. I'm stuck in a smaller habbytat.
9. I am taking meddysin!
10. Somebunny stole the George Family Jools!
11. I gotta go back to dat V-E-T person?

Oh NO! I protest. I'm putting my foots down! Dis is not happinin' to me!

Hey! Put me down!

Help! I'm in the carrier! Lemme out! Lemme out! Hunny! Mouse! Beeb! MISSSSS-EEEEEE!

Oh pooties.

I am back.

I am sulking.

Whaddoesshemean, "Dere is nuffin' wrong wif George"?

Dere most certainly is something 'wrong' with George!

George is mightily annoyed.

George still doesn't feel good.

George hadda take more meddysin tonight.

No! I will not "Hab sum hay an' habba nap", Hunny! Dis is notta joke!

I got taken inna car toda V-E-T again.

And do you know whut? She picked me up and poked and prodded me inna tender place and den put me down and sed dere was nothing wrong wif me! She said I would "go down" natchurally.

"Don't werry", she says.

"Don't werry."

I am rilly riled up ober dis.

Well, you know whut? When Dadda comed in dis morning to habba look at me, I runned innu da carrier, and I grunted.

Dat's rite!

Me, George, grunted. For da furst time in my life, I warned 'em - Stay away frum George.

Cos widdle Babby George has hadda 'nuff.

Dey hab poked me an prodded me and squirted meddysin in my mouf, and carried me all ober da place inna car, an' I'm not gonna take dis ennymore!.

I am offishully *grumpy*.

And I'm not gonna be un-grumpy for awhile.

At least not until dey put back my George Family Jools.

Posted by Our Warren at 7:52 AM EST
Updated: Friday, 3 December 2004 7:59 AM EST
Tuesday, 30 November 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Addendum - By Hunny
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit
Hullo, me, Hunny, Senior Bunny heer.

Well, George is back.

The thing is, George is not up to postin' inna blog just now. He, indeed, went toda V-E-T and she did, as I predikted, *cut off his berries*.

Yes, George is now a berry-less bunny.

For dos ob you who are 'fended by dis, lemme tell you sumfing...

Dere are hunnerts and hunnerts ob unwanted bunnies who lib in shelters. Dere are hunnerts more who are libbin' in horrybul condishuns, forced to breed ober and ober so dat "scientists" - who in menny cases aren't dedykated to learning at all - can do horrybul fings to dem inna name ob "science".

Dere are poor bunnies who die so cheap women can buy and wear fur jackets and wraps; dere are poor bunnies who are killed so sick *gourmets* can eat expensive dinners. Dere are people who run slaughterhouses where bunnies lib in cages, who die when they are the same age as little George, just so *Fashionable People* can wear fur and eat expensive food.

Well, you know whut?

No bunny in Our Warren is ever going to take a part in that kind of killing trade. None of our bunny children will suffer dat kind of fate.

We don't breed by "accident". We are neutered bunnies. We go to the V-E-T and we have surgery so that we can't hab baby bunnies that will be born to die. We don't believe in contributing to over-population.

It isn't cheap for our parents to do this. V-E-T visits are expensive and good veterinarians are worth the prices that they charge for their care and expertise.

Our parents are careful with us, making sure that they do not hab more bunnies than they can care for, and making sure dat everybun is safe, healthy and desexed.

Because Maman says we are worth it. She says she would rather cut down on other expenses to make sure we have what we need. She says that along with alla love comes *Responsibility*.

I just know that not me, not ennybunny in Our Warren, nor any futchoor members ob Our Warren are ebber gonna hab to suffer, or have to chance libbin inna bad place becos there will be too menny bunnies.

And that is why George went tidday to see Dr Sharin, and to have his oppyrayshun. Now he issa safe bunny. He is home here an' happy.

I just told him, "Habba nap, George. Ebberyfing is fine now dat you are home."

And it will be. He will be a widdle sore tomorry mornin, it's troo, but he has meddycin frum Dr Sharin, an' Maman will see that he gets it. Dr Sharin sed George was a preddy big boy for eight months old. She finks he issa berry youngbun, but a "good sized" bunny.

Well, dat's hokay. He's still Our George.

So I'm just gonna settle down now and hab sum hay and den habba nap. I had my berries snatched about eight yeers ago, so I'm not werried. Berry widdle werries me. When your Firteen, you've preddy much seen it all, an you know whut? Habbin' hay, an habbin' a nap, an habbin' your own pootybox an' crock and wadder dish issa preddy nice way to be.

So if you wants sum hay, I gots plenty. Come on in! I'm glad to share. Just be kinda quiet... George needs his sleep!

Posted by Our Warren at 7:00 PM EST
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Uh Oh
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit

I was just leaving out through the hole I chewed in my habbytat...


Dadda came innu the Bun Room.

And he picked me up and petted me.


Maman comed uppystairs with my carrier!


I'm innit!

Hunny called out, "Hold on, Babby George!"

And Clover gasped, "Oh no!"

And Beebe yelled, "YO! HANG ON, DOOD!"

And Mouse said, "Two stone lighter!"

And Missy hollared, "I lub yoooo!"

And KayCee the Kitty-Cat comed by and laughed and said, "Ha! Stoopit bunny-rabbit. YOU'RE GOING TODA V-E-T!"

Da whut? Is that who this Dr Sharin is? She's da V-E-T?!

Oh, no.

She's da V-E-T? She's da V-E-T? Hang on a minit! She's DA V-E-T!

Oh my paws an' whiskers! HELP! I'M GOIN' TO DA V-E-T's!

Dis day is not starting out well!


Posted by Our Warren at 8:53 AM EST
Sunday, 28 November 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  surprised
Now Playing: The Rain is Rainin' Alla 'Round
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit

You should see what's going on outside obba winder! I can see it now, but last night it was kind obba mystery and ob course, being a mystry, it waked uppa whole house and there wassa lotta "buggerin' about" as Dadda says.

I was just sleepin', you know, kinda dozing here next to Missy inna habbytat, when alla sudden, she kinda shifts her weight and ~*~*~WHAM~*~*~, she lets out with a *THUMP* that bounced me up inna air like about three inches offa ground.

So when I hit bottom again, I axted her, "Hey, whuttaheckwas'satalla'bout, huh?"

And she said, "Wisten." (Which in Missy-speak means hold up your ears and tune in.) So I did.

Well, there wassa sound of something hitting on the winder-glass inna Bun Room!

So I called over to Hunny (who hassa lot more hextperience in things than I do, onna'count ob being firteen Years Old anna Senior Bun), "Hey Hunny! Whuttaheckissat?"

And I hadda shout it twice cos Hunny is Firteen Years old an preddy deaf (which mean means he don't hear too good).

So he wakes up finally, and lifts up his loppy ears and says, "Buggered if I know. Hab sum hay an go to sleep. If it was bad, Maman would come an ged us."

So I stood up and alla-sudden, ~*~*~*~WHAM~*~*~*~, Missy lets out with a'nudder mega-thump like one ob dem "earthyquakes" I reeded about inna noospapers (where the ground shakes unner you), and I tip ober.

So I gathered my feets unner me again, an stood up, and went ober to the side of the habbytat and called over to Beebe, "YO!" (Cos this is Beebe's favourite werd.)

And he calls back, "YO!"

And I axt, "You hear dat, Dood?"

And Beebe yells back (cos Beebe has no udder volume setting besides "yell") "YEAH! I HEAR IT!"

And I hear Clover shifting her beauty-eous Agouti bulk and murmur, "Settle down, ShortStuff", which is her name for Beebe when she's not lettin' him "'ave one around th' ear 'ole", as she says.

And Mouse mumbles, "Lookit, stoopit, can't you smell the rain?"

And I put my nose up, and yup, that's exactly what I do smell - Rain.

But what's hitting the winder and making alla noise?

Cos, you see, I know about Rain. It's wadder that falls outta the sky and makes hay grow. Maman has told me alla'bout it. It's knowing about stuff like "rain" and "snow" and "thunder" and "lightning" (the last two of which I don't like, by the way, and nidder does Missy), and "wedder" in general, that makes me a 'Tellygint House Rabbit.

But this pounding onna winder is Something-Else-Lemme-Tell-You. It's like the sound of something Outside trying it's best to get Inside, which is allus a threat to Our Warren.

So Missy lets loose with a'nudder thunderous ~*~*~*~WHUMP~*~*~*~ with her big ol' back paddle-foots, which is an alarum-signal in any Bunny Warren.

And I bounce up inna air again.

And rite about that time, I hear Maman stirring around in her and Dadda's bedroom.

And this is whut I hear:

Maman: Brian?
Dadda: Mumph.
Maman: Brian...
Dadda: Whummammamumph.
Maman: There's something wrong in the Bun Room.
Dadda: MmmumphWhut?
Maman: Missy's thumping.
Dadda: Why?
Maman: Something's wrong in the Bun Room.
Dadda: Whut?
Maman: You stay awake while I go look.

Now Maman is very brave. She will go look at ebberyfing as long as Dadda is awake to hear her scream abouddit.

So I hear Maman tumble outta her high bed and pad-pad-pad around the corner of her room to come into the Bun Room.

And Maman flips on the light switch and ob course, ebberybun goes blind. Including her.


So she blunders around for a liddle and has a peer around the room. And we're all sittin' there, looking at her, looking at us.

And after a minit, she calls back to Dadda, "It's raining!"

And Dadda calls to her, "In the Bun Room?"

And Maman peers around some more and calls back, "No, I think it's mainly outside." (Bemember that these two are sposed to be 'tellygint hoomin adults...) "But it's hitting the window pretty hard. Like a firehose onna flat rock."

And then Maman does Roll Call (which goes like this):
Maman: Clover, honey?
Clover: Yes, Maman.
Maman: Beebe-Bunny?
Beebe: YO!
Maman: Maman's sweet widdle Hunny-bunny-boy?
Hunny: Huh?
Maman: Mousey-wouse?
Mouse: Shut up, woman.
Maman: Howsa Miss-Miss Bunnykins?
Missy: Wah! ~*~Thump~*~
Maman: Sweet little George?
me: Can I have a treat? Please? I'm awake! Over here!

And Maman heard me, ob course, and went and got the Treat Can full of raisins and gave ONE to each of us.

And then she shut off the light and pad-pad-paddled back toward her room.

Just a little later I heard Dadda say, "Bugger it." and then I heard him stumbled through the bedroom and into the bathroom. And then I heard Cocoa fall off the bed in Maman and Dadda's room, and go pad-pad-pad into the bathroom. And then Dadda yelled something about being "left alone to do certain things in peace without having a f-ing great audience of cats!" and Three cats came flying out of the bathroom, past the Bun Room and went galloping on down the hall toward Phil-the-Lad's room which is more or less vacant since he is in someplace called "MarryLand".

And then Dadda came outta the bathroom and plodded back into the bedroom and I heard him climb back into bed.

So we hadda'nudder one of whut Maman calls those nights where ebberybun was up "buggering about" as Dadda says, and I still don't know whut it is that's outside pounding onna winders to get in!

But it must not be Anything Bad, cos as Hunny says, if it was Anything Bad, Maman would hab gotten us out or saved us or screamed her head off and gotten Dadda to help, or something.

So while whatebber it was that was pounding on our winders went on pounding, I made uppa song to sing to myself while I was chewing on my raisin. I know I heard the werds before frum Maman reading to me, so the werds are Not Mine (they were thought up by some guy named "Robert Louis Stevenson" who lived a long time ago), but I made up the tune and this is how it goes:

The rain is raining all around;
It falls on grass and tree.
It falls on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

Posted by Our Warren at 10:07 AM EST
Updated: Sunday, 28 November 2004 10:10 AM EST
Saturday, 27 November 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  cool
Now Playing: Activity. Have some!
Topic: Movin' On!

Maman says I'm an "Acive Rabbit".

Several months ago, I wouldn't know if this was something I should be proud of or not, but now that I am a 'Tellygint Rabbit, I know.

It is a Good Thing.

You know how I know this?

It is becos I can REED.

That's right. Because I can reed, I know that it is GOOD to be an Active Rabbit.

Whut I don't know is if Maman and Dadda need me to be 'Active" or not. I think it might be good for them, but I'm not sure.

It starts like this: Not ebberybunny can reed. Maman told me that reeding issa skill, which is something that a bunny can learn. It's part of being 'Tellygint.

Reeding is mostly sitting on Maman's lap, looking atta 'puter screen and knowing whut alla werds onna screen mean. That's most of it. The other part of it is looking at Maman an listening to her use those werds to me and picking out the ideas that mean something from the ideas that are "Pure Lunacy".

"Active" might fall into this caty-gory from whut I unnerstand.

Which isn't much, but here goes...

So today Maman and I were sitting there, looking through the noospapers like we allus do, and there was an artykul about being fat and being onna diet and being healthy and "Active". So Maman starts reading the artykul out-loud to Dadda.

Do you know that hoomins are not 'lowed to have too many treats? I didn't know this. I thought they ate anything they wanted.

Turns out, they can't. Well, not with Maman around. Dadda came back into the office with some bread and some cheese and Maman said that he would need to become "Active" if he was going to keep that up.

And then Maman went on and sed that she and Dadda are not "Active" enuf to be habbin bread and cheese and Maman's favourite, which at the moment is Punk'in Pie.

Dadda said he was plenty "Active", what with being waked up ebbery nite by Stoopit Catz, and having to throw them off the bed, and moving house and all.

And Maman said that this was not the same kind of "Active" she was talking about. The kind of "Active" she was talking about is habbin "Ex-ster-size".

And Dadda said that he gets plenty of "Ex-ster-size" walking back and forth to the 'Fridgerator.

So Maman said, "That's the point. We need to be more 'active' like George."

And Dadda said, "George is too bloody 'active' by half."

At which Maman sed, "You'll notice that George is not ten pounds overweight."

And Dadda said he wasn't ten pounds overweight either, that it was more like twenty and I am not overweight for want of trying, because I eat alla treats I can lay my paws on.

Which is true, but that's a bunny's job.

So Maman figgered out that Dadda and her need to walk ebbery day wiffa Border-Collie Dawg.

I'm not sure what the Dawg has to do with things. Nor is the Dawg, but Belinda told me that he's so stoopit, he'll go along with anything because dawgs will do anything to please.

Maman sed that walking dis dawg will somehow be good for her and Dadda, because it will make them be more like me, which is, namely, "Active".

Now I am a 'Tellygint Bunny, and I can reed, so I know that it is important for everybun to be "Active" so that they will not be fat, but whut I can't figger out is what this all has to do with me, and what it has to do with the Border-Collie Dawg.

I can see where this Dawg and I are "active" and this is good for us, but where does Maman get the idea that our being "Active" will be good for her and Dadda?

I mean, I walk a lot. I hop. I binky. The Collie-Dawg walks around his yard, and barks, and chases his ball. This is "Active". Maman and Dadda reed a lot, and type a lot, and talk a lot. They are not "Active". So if we are and they aren't, how is us being and them not going to help them become? Know what I mean?

What's this got to do with us?

Hunny said for me not to werry about it - Maman's ideas don't usually last long.

He said: "Hab sum hay, an hab a nap. When you wake up, she'll hab fortygotted all about this 'walks' stuff. It's just Maman - her brain issa lot more 'active' than the rest of her."

I hope so. So does the Collie-Dawg.

Posted by Our Warren at 2:35 PM EST
Tuesday, 23 November 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  hug me
Now Playing: Patiently Yours
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit

I am not sure about this.

Dadda is taking me to see Dr Sharin again this morning. Maman says I'm going to stay at Dr Sharin's for most of the day, like Maman stays at werk at her hoomin doctor-office.

I am habbin' a hard time figgering out whut I am going to be doing.

Maman talks about seeing "patients" at her werk. And I have heard her say to odder hoomins, "George issa most patient bunny I've ever seen." And then she says to me last nite, "George, be patient. You'll get some raisins, too."

Then last nite, I heard Dadda say, "George will be a good liddle patient."

So whut's alla these patients and why do I need to have them or be them?

Dere are pik-quloo-loo-air-it-tees obba Inkwish Language that don't translate well into Lagomorphin. Sometimes one word means many things, and they are all dif'frunt.


Maman has patients with the patients at her doctors office and George, the Patient Bunny is gonna be a patient patient today at Dr Sharin's V-E-T Surgery.

Izzat rite?

So about whut am I gonna be patient about today, seeing that I am a Patient Bunny?

Hunny sed I am gonna hab my berries snatched.

"You'll have a nap and wake up lighter by two stone." said Mouse. And he *snikkert*. (Mouse doesn't *laugh*, he sort of puts his paw over his nose an' bounces up'n'down.)

Beebe yelled over frum his habbytat, "Don' ledd'em doit!" before Clover sat on him.

Of course, Beeb had a Bad Time over this, as he went to the V-E-T to be a patient and instead became a puzzle. Maman sed that the V-E-T who looked at Da Beeb wasn't sure if he was a gurl or a boy, so they waited until he was having a nap, and then they looked, both onna inside and onna outside, and guess whut? He was BOTH!

So the V-E-T cleaned out alla bits and Beebe somehow woke up being Genderly Challenged!

Beebe says he doesn't bemember a thing, and so far as he's concerned, he issa bunny that does alla challenging around here... which Mouse says is all pooties, because he's the bunny who issues the challenges, and Hunny says, no, he's the Top Bun onna'countobba fakt dat he is Firteen and he doesn't have to prove Ennyfing To Ennybunny.

So ennyway, that's how things stand: I'm going to go to see Dr Sharin again, which is hokay by me. She's a nice lady, even if she does keep prying up at my bunny-lips to look at my teef and poking in my ears. She said I was preddy, and that's a good thing.

And Maman promised me she'll come get me so I can be Home Before Raisins.

So I'll just wait an see whut happins now.

An be Patient.

Posted by Our Warren at 7:27 AM EST
Tuesday, 16 November 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Uh oh
Topic: Movin' On!

Well, I might as well admit it. I have been a naughty George.

Maman said that I have to "Own up."

Hunny said that it wassa case of "Youthful Stoopidity".

Mouse said, "Don't expect me to cover for you, mate."

And Beebe said it was so cool, we'll have to do it again sumtime.

That's before Maman chased him back into his habitat again today, and gave him "A Good Talking To."

Hey, I only got a "Lecture"! Which is less severe.

It all happened yesterday.

Yesterday started off preddy good. I'd been at werk on some more of those holes and this time, I managed to finally squeeze outta one. Not bad. I can get really skinny when I wanna.

So I went over to Beebe's habbytat and showed him where I'd previously chewed a hole for him that Dadda hadn't managed to quite close off. Well, Beeb got all hextcited and knocked the door-post loose.

That's not my fault. I didn't know he was gonna stand back and take a run at it, did I?

And so.

Well, the sun was shining.

That's it. The sun was shining, and Maman was downnastairs habbin coffee with Dadda and they were talkin about going to some hospiddle or something, and Phil wasn't awake and nuthing was going on. And the Beeb and I were Two Rabbits Lookin For Adventure.

Okay, so we were only looking in the Bun Room, but it's a good-sized room.

And the sun was shining and it was a preddy nice day, and there was this bale of hay that was sitting there onna middle of the floor.

Now you have to unnerstand about hay.

Hay comes in big box-shapes called bales. They are tied with string, which keeps them togedder.

Until you bite through the string.

Then they kinda fall apart, all ober. Then you can dig inn'em. And tunnel. And eat. And binky. And eat. And roll. And pull'em apart. And sort of run-really-fast-without-geddin-anywhere's. And then dig some more. And eat.

And after awhile of this, Beeb said, "I'm gonna go visit Missy."

And I'm like, "Hold on, Dood. That's MY womin."

And Missy's like, "Who you callin your womin? I'm my own womin! Get outta here, Beebe-Bunny!!"

And then Clover comes over to where the door-post is leaning and she starts with a good-sized *thump*, and hollars, "Beebe-Bunny!! You get home here this instant!"

And she comes outta her habbytat to see what's going on.

And here I'm inna big pile of hay, and the sun is shining, you know, and there goes Beebe, into see Missy!

Well, Hunny looks over and says, "Uh oh." and goes back to eating his hay.

So I tried a *thump* to warn Beebe that visiting in my habbytat was a bad idea, but with the hay and all, it was preddy feeble. So I rushed over to my habbytat just as Beeb went in through the same hole that I came out of.

But Beeb is a fast li'l guy, him being a Hot-Tot, which is really just a black-tipped version of a white Netherlands Dwarf, and so he and I did a three-sixty around the habbytat, with Missy-inna-middle.

Which she didn't like.

And Mouse is lookin on from his habbytat onna clothes-press, and he says, "You two make an awful racket. Can't you keep it down?"

And then Missy *THUMPED*.

Now she is one big gurl; feet like paddles. So when she *thumps*, it's got authority innit.

And Beeb jumped about a mile and just about met up with Clover who was at that moment hauling her generously-sized-and-nicely-tailed rear-sections over the side of my habbytat.

They were surprised. In passing.

So I ducked out the hole, went over the hay-pile and caught up with Beebe in his habbytat.

And then a bunch of things happend all at once:
Mouse shouted, "Maman!"
I heared feets onna stairs.
Dadda shouted, "Bugger!"
and there was this dead-calm voice that cut through everything, and just froze me, solid, to the floor:

"Young man!"

And suddenly I was up inna air, nose to nose with Maman.

And she said, "Look at this mess!"

So I looked and she's up to her knees in hay.

And she said, "Did you do this?"

Now what do you think?

You do not go nose-to-nose with Maman and lie. You fold back your ears, wiggle your nose and look at your toes which are almost going up your nose anyway. Even better if you can blush, but with fur, it's hard.


So I gotta "Lecture".

About being Honest.
About taking Responsibility.
About Owning Up.

While Dadda cut pieces of lattice work and plugged up alla my holes and fixed Beebe's door post and carried Clover back to her habbytat, Maman told me her "Lecture".

Then we all had to sit in our habbytats while Maman tried her hand at sweeping alla hay.

A pile of hay is a lot bigger than a bale.

Then Maman gave out raisins, because she said we all Had Learned Our Lesson.

Hunny said he knew the lesson already but was always up for raisins.

And then Maman picked me up again.

"Is George sorry?" she asked me.

Well, look at it from my point of view.
On the down-side, I got a "Lecture".
But on the plus-side:
1. I had fun in the hay.
2. I played outside my habbytat for a good almost-hour.
3. I played chase with Beebe.
4. I had a raisin snack.
5. The sun was shining.

I folded back my ears, looked at my toes and tried to blush or something, then lifted up my chin and kissed Maman onna nose.

Posted by Our Warren at 9:42 PM EST
Sunday, 14 November 2004
The New Adventures of George
Mood:  a-ok
Now Playing: Our Warren is Upset
Topic: Movin' On!

I am back.

I am George - a growed up, literate, 'Tellygint Companion House-Rabbit. Mostly. But I am undeniably, empatically George, bond-mate to Missy-bun, independent Rabbit, full-time, wholly-accepted, foot-thumping member ob Our Warren.

In other words, I am no longer "Babby George" da Liddle an Stoopit.

All righty then.

You will see that I can now read and use real werds. I can type much better than before. This is because I have been spending a lotta time sitting with Maman, just like Belinda told me to do; sitting and listening, sitting and reading the newspapers on-line, sitting at the 'puter and learning how it werks; just sitting and sitting!

And sitting is hard.

Sitting is especially hard when you have the wiggles and want to binky. Sitting is 'speshully hard when you look out of your window to see an all-blue sky dotted with white, dandylion puff-ball clouds, and crispy, confetti-coloured leaves spin by, caught on a breath of cold, crisp Autumnal wind. Sitting is even harder when you can hear dry, crinkly leaves skipping and chattering down the street, raked by an ice-tipped breeze while you're stuck, breeze-less with cental heating, inside.

But I have sat it out and am now typing real werds on the 'puter as a grown-up bunny.

Hunny says Belinda would be proud of me. He says I'm the second-generation of House-bunnies to use the 'puter, and the second-generation of Our Warren to be literate. He said I amma Future ob Lagomorphs and he is proud to have lived long enough to see the Future and that It is Me.

Yes, well, I have to take his werds very seriously, because he is a very old and serious rabbit, or a seriously old rabbit, or something. He is Our Elder Rabbit who was here from the beginning of Our Warren, and knows all there is to know about Living As An Urban Companion Rabbit.

So now, we Companion Rabbits of Our Warren are moving from this house to a New House. Hunny has moved before, and he says that it's no big deal, but Dadda says that it will be, because there are Special Circumstances.

The First Problemis that there will be Dawgs at the New House. It's not just that there will be the Border Collie dawg, Marc, it will be that there will be Sistah Beffy's dawg, CodiFox, that is a ShebuInnu or something - a kind of hunting dog that bites - that is not trustworthy around rabbits - that will be living in the New House with us. So, because there will be an untrustworthy dawg, there is...

The Second Problem, which is that Our New Bun Room in the New House is inna room that has the door to the back garden in it, and the dawgs must come through the New Bun Room in order to go outside. Dadda says all dawgs have to go "outside" many times a day, which means they also have to come "inside" an ekwell number of times. So the New Bun Room will have Traffic which is something our present Bun Room has never had. is obviously a Bad Thing against which special provisions have to be made, which leads to...

The Third Problem which is that our homes, our habitats, can no longer be on the floor as they are in our present Bun Room. For our safety, we have to be housed Two Foots Offa Ground With Lids, Maman says, to protect us from the Untrustworthy Dawg, which is CodiFox.

Maman and Dadda are NOT pleased about these three problems at all. Maman wants us to have the same homes as we do now. She feels that we don't need to suffer just because we have to move. She feels we should be getting better housing and not have to put up with CodiFox's bad manners.

I agree.


Dadda says "Things are as they are.", which means, We Have To Face Facts. So he is building homes for us that are high off the ground where dawgs can't reach us, and tall so there is room to hex-ster-size, BUT our homes won't have as much floor space as they have now. This means they won't be as big and roomy as they are now.

But Sistah Beffey says she wants to move out in a few months and have her own place and take CodiFox and her kitty, Gidget, with her.

Dadda says, "We'll see." which means, When He Sees It, He'll Belive It. So for now, we'll have to live in these new homes that don't have as much floor space.

Clover and Missy aren't happy about not having the same floor space as before and they are not happy about having homes with two storeys in them. They are mainly tubby female bunnies who don't like to move around very much. The idea of two-storey condo-type homes doesn't thrill either of them. In fact, they are upset about it.

Beebe and Mouse are impressed because they, like me, like Adventures in Lilving Space. But they are still upset, because everything upsets them one way or another because they are "sensitive" bunnies, Maman says. Mouse has been digging and spraying pooties all over whenever Dadda shows up with a tape-measure, and Beebe has been doing popcorn binkies over Clover's head and 'noying her greatly.

Hunny isn't impressed because he has Mobility Issues, like Maman, due to age, and can't get around easily. He won't have two storeys because he might fall and hurt himself, so he will just have less all-around room and that does not please him at all. So he is upset.

And now, Sistah Beffy is upset because she feels that Maman and Dadda don't like CodiFox. They do like CodiFox, but they don't like that she isn't well-trained and not trust-able.

And Phil-the-Lad is upset because he's in his own tangle about moving down to Mary-land with alla his stuff and his two cats, Toby-tay and KayCee, Kitty.

And that leaves Cokie-da-Fat-Cat upset because he won't know what to do without KayCee and do with Marc-the-Border-Collie.

And Marc is already upset because he can't figure out what's happening to his house with all the hoomins coming and going.

And Dadda is upset because he's got three weeks to get this all done and he is sick and going back and forth from the hospiddle for "Testings".

And Maman is upset because she's working and has to go see a new "nurologist" about her illness and can't do many of the things she sees needing doing.

And so, everybun is inna upset "UpRoar" here at Our Warren.

Except me.

I'm doing what Belinda told me to do before she left for the Bridge: sitting here, listening and learning, and getting more and more 'Tellygint... and being George.

Posted by Our Warren at 10:06 AM EST
Wednesday, 13 October 2004
Clover Reads the Philadelphia Inquirer
Mood:  down
Now Playing: A Nice Man Writes A Sad Story
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit
Hullo. It's me, Ms. Clover.

I don't type too menny blogs. Dis is cos I am more obba housebun kinda bunny. I take care of Beebe, an I push hay; I clean up da pootie-box, an tidy da toys, an look for tweats an nap an tawk to Hunny cos sumbun should. Let's face it, I'm just not wike Missy an do pwotests an Rabbit Rites, or wike George an reada Noospaper wif Maman an do "soshul commentary". It's just not me...

ExCept, I did reada noospaper dis mawnin wif Maman. We were sittin atta computer together.

She told me da Noospaper was called The Philadelphia Inquirer an dat it wassa berry old noospaper an berry respected. I guess by udder hoomins, cos I don't know too many bunnies who read it.

Ennyways, I readed a story by sum guy named Stu. Not to be confoozled wif dat werd we don't tawk about that sum hoomins think is funny to mention to Maman dat makes her mad when it is mentioned in connection wif bunnies. Not dat kinda Stu.

His second name is Bykofsky and he has typed a story inna noospaper aboud a poor dawg.

Da dog's name was Sheea.

Now, Sheea runned off frum her family (dawgs is stoopit wike dis). Den sum nice lady found her, an taked her to da municiple shelter in Philadelphia so dat her family could find her and come an get her.

Inna meantime, Sheea's family was lookin for her, an puttin up signs an callin da municiple shelter, axtin da hoomins dere to look for their lost dawg, Sheea, who had already been found an was in the municiple shelter, if they did but know it.

Well, Sheea was there in the municipal shelter for alla nine minutes whenna hoomins dere sent her toda Rainbow Bridge!


Nobun tried to find Sheea's family. Nobun picked uppa phone. Nobun looked atta signs Sheea's family had put up onna walls inna shelter. Nobun cared.

They just killed nine minutes...


Whut is wrong wif these hoomins? Can't they read? Are they stoopit? Don't they place enny value at all on a creature's life? Sure, they tawk about "rehoming" pets - but who can find a home in nine minutes? Don't they wantus animals to find homes?

Whut kind of chance do we hab to find forever homes in nine minutes?

I was Bundergrounded frum Bis-Con-Sin to Noo Joisey. It took days for me to get frum there to here. What if I only had nine minutes?

Bebee-Bunny!! wassa class-room bunny who was abandoned in his class-room in Maryland. Maman an Dadda hadda drive to Maryland, stay obernite at a motel an den go to pik him up. It took a week-end. Whut if he had only had nine minutes?

Missy-Bun's furst mawmie died ob cancer an her family was moovin to Floryda, so she got to stay with Unky Michael and Auntie Kari an Cousin Kramer in Noo Yawk. Den Maman an Unky Michael tawked onna phone an decided onna time to meet an once again, Maman an Dadda got inna car an drived to sumplace dat took all day to bring Missy home. Whut if Missy had only had nine minutes?

An George - gettin left atta V-E-Ts pwace inna box? Even though Maman raced ober dere, it took longer den nine minutes for her to get dere and to scoop up George an bring him home.

An Hunny - poor old Hunny who is Thirteen Years Old - he spent da day dyin in his cage atta Yard Sale before Maman rescued him. He almost died because no one cared about him, yet he got longer den nine minutes to find a forever home.

The thing is this: A Shelter is supposed to be a safe place for animals to be.

So how safe can you feel for only nine minutes?

Poor Sheea.

I hope Belinda Bunny met Sheea atta Rainbow Bridge an 'splained to her dat not alla hoomins are stoopit an mean, dat some care, an some werk rilly hard to keep us all safe.

An if I know Belinda, she did that. Belinda had no patience wif stoopit hoomins. Nedder does Maman. And nedder does dat Bykofsky guy who writes stories inna Philadelphia Inquirer.

I hope you'll read dis Stu guy's story about Sheea's Nine Minutes. It's berry sad, I know, but it is impawtant for hoomins to know about Sheea , cos sumbunny hasta stop stoopit hoomins, an only da smart ones can.

Posted by Our Warren at 11:20 AM EDT
Saturday, 25 September 2004
Missy Impawts Wizdom
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: Geddin Along Or Rabbits Furst
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit

Good mawnin, fellow Houzbunnies. Missy-Bun heer.

Inna Fird Pawt ob my serries, "Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit", I wuld wike to addwess whut seems to be a berry impawtant ishoo: Geddin Along Wid Udder Critters Inna Houz or, as I wike to say, Bunnies Come Furst.

I know dat sum ob you buns out dere habba share your houzes wif udder annymals. Ob course, sum ob you are wucky an ebberyfing in your houz is just set up for hoomins an bunnies. Den dere are a berry forchunate few who habba sitcheeyashun where da whole libbin space is deboted to just house-bunnies, but dat don happin oftin enuf. Sad, bud troo.

So whut happins to most ob us issat we find ourselbs libbin inna houz wif udder critters.

In Our Warren, we bunnies hab our own room. Dis issa Bun Room. Inside obbit, we habba habbytats, which are wike our own rooms. We all hab our own litter-boxes, our own wadder crocks, food crocks, hay sup'lies, toys, hideys an whutebber else we want. Our Bun Room hassa air-condishywasher to keep it cool inna Summer an dere are free windoze.

Dere is also a wattice-werk slidey-door.

Dis is cos we also hab catz.

I know, it's a total embarrassmint, but I hab to step up an admit it: We Hab Catz.

An okayshunally, we ebben hab Dawgs .

Now dere are ways ob handlin dees indiggities.

Furst ob all, dere is nuffin to be a-shamed ob. It's notta bunny's fault whin a houz is infested wif udder critters. We aren't da wuns dat bringed dem in, an we're notta wuns keepin dem heer.

Da pwoblem is oberly kind hoomins dat Can't Say NO.

Dere is nuffin a bunny can do aboudda hoomins. Mind-contwoll only will go so far. Howebber, dere are ways ob libbin wif dees fings.

If a bunny finds dey is libbin inna houz infested by udder critters, da Furst Fing to bemember issat: Da Bunny Is Allus Rite. Oncest dis Rool is firmwy in-bedded inna bunny's mind, ebberyfing else will follow awong smoofwy.

Heer issa short wist ob udder critters a bunny mite find in dere homez:

Catz: Catz are selfish, wazy an nutz. Dey hab nuffin you want. Dey, howebber, want to know whut you're doin an dey want your hay. Dey are ushually skert ob you, doh, an are cowards. Show dem you meen biznezz an dey will leeb you awone. Wun inna hunnert culd bekom friends, bud don bettonnit.
Dawgs: Dawgs are dangerous an assa Rool cannot be trusted. ABOID AT ALL COSTS! Allus be wiffa hoomin. Nebber confrunt a dawg on your own! Ebben if you hab bited it's nose, or udderwise made your point, bunnies an dawgs are NEBBER SAFE TOGEDDER.
Fish: Don't madder.
Gimmie-Pigs: As dere name implies, dees noisey widdle guys want ebberyfing you hab, bud you kind ushually come to an agreemint wiff'em aboud most stuff. Dey are nod aggressivb, bud dey ushually can't getta hang obba pootie-box. Dey are berry communykatib an tawk alla time an are bizzy. Howebber, if you need peace an quiet, ged up high sumpwace cos dey can't jump or climb.
Birds: Birds can be a pwoblem cos dere is all kinds. Sum come inn'er down houzes an don bodder bunnies. Dees are hokay an will dwop seeds dat are gud to eat. Den dere are da udder kinda birds dat are BIG. Dees can be a pwoblem in dat sum obb'em can tawk an yell at you. Sum obb'em walk onna floor an ged innu your stuff. Takin a run at'tem mite not werk cos dey hab beeks dat poke. Axt for hoomin assistance wif birds!.

Bud bemember, no madder whut happins, where ebber a bunny libs issa bunny's houz. Anna Furst Rool ob bein a Houz Bunny is:

~*~*~*~DA BUNNY IS ALLUS RITE~*~*~*~

Posted by Our Warren at 10:47 AM EDT
Friday, 24 September 2004
Missy Impawts Wizdom
Mood:  cool
Now Playing: S*L*O*B: It's the Litterbox, Stoopit.
Topic: Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit
Good mawnin, Houzbunnies! It's Missy-Bun, back wiffa'nudder installmint ob adbice on Libbin Assa Urban Rabbit.

Wunna da gud fings aboud libbin wif George issat he issa youngbun. Now I'm finally geddin to see whut it was like for Belinda when I arribed heer at Our Warren assa youngbun an she hadda take time oudda her bizzy schedule assa Top Bunny to teach me to become 'Tellygint.

Atta time, I didn't realise whutta big task dat was, but I'm seein it now, lemme tell you!

Bud Belinda had it easy, and dis is cos I amma GURL. Howebber, George issa BOY. An nod onwy dat, he issa S*L*O*B.

S*L*O*B stand for

Now dis is whut I hab obserbed:

Young males ob whutebber species are a mess. Eidder dat, or dey are a mess just waitin for a pwace to okur.

I will cite three hextamples:
Hextample Number Wun: Cat
Name: Cokie-da-Fat-Cat

Cokie issa walkin, talkin mess. Until Maman taked him toda Cat Spa, he was also a stinkin mess, but luck'ly, dey gibbed himma baf. Cuttin off most ob his fur was also a big improobmint, cos at weast he don come in heer ennymore an drag out halffa hay bale stuck to his tail. We're tawkin walkin dustball. An hoomins call whut dey find unnerneaf obba beds "dustBUNNIES"? Who are dey kiddin? Dis issa rovin' dustCAT dat picks up fuzz bedder den most Swiffermops. An alla time, I heer Dadda compwain aboud how fulla cat-litter-box is geddin, an dat is cossa Cokie. Dadda says dat NUFFIN "can convert food innu crap wike dat cat", which is no s'prise to me, cos I knowed alla'long dat catz are fulla crap inna furst pwace.

An nod onwy dat, but dis cat is stoopit. Whut udder creetchur wuld get up onna bed ebbery nite, pry opin Dadda's eyelid wiffa claw just so he kin get airborn? Cos I'm tellin you, dis is whut happins. I heer da bed creek, den I heer da cat purrr, den I heer Dadda say some rilly bad werds an den I heer dis *FUMP* - an dat's Cokie, flyin fru da air an hittin da floor. Now you'd fink datta cat wuld wearn sumfing heer, wouldn'cha? But ebbery nite, dis happins. An den I heer Maman say, "Whut'ssamatter, Darwing?" to Dadda, an Dadda says, "(bad-werd)-Cat's got 'is (bad-werd)-great paw in me eye again, now doesn't 'e?" An dat's how I know datta Cokie-cat don wearn an is derefore, stoopit.

Now dere is also a mean widdle female cat heer an her name is KayCee. I can't stand her. Mind you, I can't stand enny catz, but dis widdle bundul ob spite just aboud takes da carrotcake. She's sneeky, mean, an she's nutz. But she's cleen. She duzzin't gadder fuzz, she duzzin't carry away da hay. She duzzin't smell (much). She spends a wotta time makin shure her coat wooks nice. She's a GURL. An dat'ssa onwy good fing aboud her.

Hextample Number Two: Hoomin
Name: Phil anna Rent-A-Teens

Hokay, we're talkin big-time, werld-cwass S*L*O*Bs heer. Inna way, dey are a wot wike Cokie, onwy wiffoud alla dust. An dey do tend not to smell as bad unwess dey hab bin out inna garden or inna cars doin sumfing dey call "werkin". Den dey can rilly smell, right on up to stink. An sumtimes, when dey are goin sumwheres, dey put on special stinks dat you just can't imagine ennybun wuld wanna smell wike. Sumtimes dere's a combinashun ob stinks, wike wun dat comes frum dere faces, wun frum dere hair, anna nudder wun frum unner dere arms (which is rilly weird).

Dey also leeb whut Maman calls "debris" all ober, an dis mostwy hasta do wif food. Sumtimes dey will share dis food. Dey drink outta cans which dey leeb onna floor or onna tabul or onna winnosill. Sumtimes dees can hab stinks, too. Smells wike sugar an fake froot, mostwy oranges an wimes. Maman is allus yellin at'tem to "cwean up dis pwace" an den dey gets big bags an make a wotta noise wif DEE-BEE-DEEs. Dey habba wotta noisy "VIDEO" games dat Mouse wikes to watch dat skare me cos dey also make a wotta noise. An dey hab big feets dat CLOMP up an downnastairs. Dey are also allus ringing cos dey hab dees "phones" 'tached to dere hands.

So boyz are berry LOUD. Just when I'm lyin down fora nap, Phil goes byda Bun Room, sticks his hed inna door an yells out, "OOO-RAH, bunnies, OOO-RAH!" Skeers me half to def, cos I'm nod 'spectin it. He lernt dis inna pwace called "Da Naby" where I fink dere are a wotta messy, woud boyz who pwobabwy also stink.

Now Maman, an Sistah Beffy are GURLS an dey are hoomins, too, an dey aren't half as noisey, or stinky. In fact, a wotta times, you don ebben know Maman's aroun, cos she spends a wotta time doin whut she calls "reedin" or "werkin onna buk" an dat kinda werk don make her smell wike a train-wrek. Onwy when she's goin out wif Dadda - den she gots funny flower smells, but nuffin dat's gonna make your hair frizzle.

Hextample Number Three: Rabbit
Name: George

George can't finda litterbox wiffa map an bof paws. I don't know whut'ssamatta wif dis kid. I mean, dere issa BIG, RED litterbox heer inna habbytat. You culd get fibe bunnies innit, no pwoblem, all sittin nice, back to back an nobunny wuld be outta room, if you know whut I mean. No tail-touch, which is impawtant.

But will George use it? No.

So Maman gibbed him his own litterbox, a nice speshul square wun wiffa cut-down frunt. She put it in his habbytat, just inna right spot (scientifikly determined).

He 'norred it.

So she put hay innit to make it more innerestin.

He used it assa diner an pootied in frunt obbit.

So George commed ober heer to lib wif me, and dat was hokay, until he decided dat he was gonna use da hay dat I was sabin for brekfast for his personal potty.

Well I stopped dat right off wiffa good clip 'roundda ear.

Den he decided dat he was gonna habba pootie-war wif Beebe.

An Clover an I stopped DAT right away, too, wif simotaneous clips 'roundda ears to bof George an Beebe.

As Belinda sed, can't be habbin wiffat.

So George goes paddlin on big feets, an compwains to Maman dat he don gotta pootiebox. An heer's dis BIG, RED pottiebox, wif room enuf innit for fibe rabbits, sittin heer inna habbytat, warger den life, dat he's 'norrin. So Maman moobs his nice, speshul widdle square pootiebox wiffa cut-down-frunt-for-easy-akcess innu da habbytat for him.

An he pooties onna floor BETWEEN da two pootieboxes!

An all onna'count obba fact dat he issa S*L*O*B.

I rest my case.

Posted by Our Warren at 11:41 AM EDT
Updated: Friday, 24 September 2004 11:49 AM EDT

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