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.

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!

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.

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...

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.

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.

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...

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!

Like:
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!

*Binky*

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.

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!

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...

When...

Dadda came innu the Bun Room.

And he picked me up and petted me.

But...

Maman comed uppystairs with my carrier!

And...

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!

I WANT DO-OVERS!

Posted by Our Warren at 8:53 AM EST

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