Geroge's 1st Strand; Day Number 7
Now Playing: Whole Lotta Talking

I hab noticed that there is berry widdle communnykayshun around heer.

Now when I say that, whut I meen is dat dere issa whole wotta talking going on but berry widdle inna way ob troo communnykayshun.

For hextample:

Maman talks to us a great deal.

She comes innu da Bun Room inna morning, wiffa Dawg prancing behind her, and ebben bifore she snaps uppa windershade, she's talking to us:

"And how are my bunnies today? How is everybun? How's my Clover? And my Beebe-Boy? And how's Mouse-ums? And MissyBun? And Georgie-Porgy? All my bunnies all right? Alla bunnies happy?"

And den *snap* - she yanks on dat windershade and it rolls up inna instant, and *whallop* we gedda burst ob sunshine dat wuld blind a sun-seeking lizzard.

And becos we know whut comes nextest, Missy hollars out:

"Don'tchu opin dat door! Don't do it! Ebben iffa Dawg says, don't you DARE opin dat door! It's COLD outside!"

But Maman's all-reddy on to her next bit ob patter:

"Hokay bunnies, hold on! I'm going to let the Doggie out! Marcus has gotta go chase the squirrels, doesn't he? Can't have squirrels in Marc's garden, can we, Marcus?"

Anna Dawg is dancin' around wike an idiot, yellin:

"NO SQUIRRELS! NO SQUIRRELS! MARC's A GOOD BOY! MARC's A GOOD BOY! GOOD BOY, MARC!"

Which is preddy much all he CAN do afta Maman geds him wound up and hextcited wike dat.

And Missy is inna habbytat shoutin, "Don'tchu opin dat door, Wady! You hear me? Don'tchu you DARE opin dat door!" wif her ears standing out frum her hed atta ninety-degree angle, and her hed right up inna air, and her nose twitching twenty-wun toda dozzen.

Becos Missy is one Disapproving Rabbit!

I meen, we're talking "Indignant Bunny", right heer, lemme tell you.

Anna Dawg is standing unner-neaf ob Missy in her habbytat which is nextest toda door, and Missy's kicking pooties down on his hed.

And he doesn't ebben notise.

And Maman is still trying to unlock da Back Door.

Ob course da Dawg issn't rilly ackchully finking aboud squirrels inna Gardin, cos he's not yelling aboud dem atta moment. Whut he's ackchully yelling aboud is:

"GOTTA GO! GOOTA GO! OPIN UPPA DA DOOR AND LEMME OUT! GOTTA GO! GOTTA GO!"

And he's hopping around wif his paws crossed.

Which is a preddy good trick, lemme tell you.

And Missy is yelling:

"DON'T OPIN DAT DOOR! DON'TCHU DARE OPIN DAT DOOR!" while she's sitting wif her butt inna pootie-box and kicking pooties out frumma box on toda Dawg's hed.

And Maman is just adding toda noise saying,

"Whosa good boy? Maman's Markie? Okay, okay, go chase the squirrels, Marc! Here we go - Let me get another hand on this door...and twist and pull...and pull...and the door is stuck...and back up, Marc!... and pull and...uh oh, maybe I need to call Dadda..."

And heer comes Cokie-da-Fat-Cat and he's talking, too.

"Food! Outta food heer! Starving cat!"

And he walks up unner'neaf obba Dawg, right unner Maman's feets, onto her slippers, sort ob nailing her toda Bun Room floor onna'count obba fakt dat he's so hebby and fat, and he starts to purr:

"Wook at me! Bee-yoo-ti-ful cat heer! Lubbly, STARVING, gen-yoo-wine, STARVING, Maine Coon, STARVING CAT, heer! Wook atta STARVING CAT who is wiffout FOOD!"

And Missy is still yelling: "DON'T OPIN DAT DOOR!"

Anna Dawg is peeping: "GOOTA GO! GOTTA GO! GO! GO! GO!"

While Maman is struggling wiffa door toda Back Gardin and saying werds dat I am not aloud to type onna'count ob being a Small Rabbit.

And den Dadda comes fru da Kitchin and axts, "Whutsamatta?"

Wike he can't see.

And he comes innu da Bun Room, too.

So now its crowded inna Bun Room wif Me and Missy, Clover, Beebe and Mouse, and Missy's kicking pooties; Da Dawg dancing around wif his paws crossed and not paying attenshun to ennyfing udder denna fakt dat he hasta "GO!"; Cokie-da-Fat-Cat purring on and on while standing on Maman's slippers and rubbing his hed on Maman's leg; and Maman trying to pull opin da Back Door and not being strong enuf to do it.

And now Dadda wanders in!

So heer we are and Dadda starts talking, too.

"Whutssamatta wiffa fairy-dog? He stuck his nose in my ear at five o'clock this morning and asked me to let him out. So I climbed out of bed, let him outside and he just stood on the porch - Noble Dawg! Master of His Domain! kind of thing. So I called the bugger back inside and got back in bed."

"Well he's gotta go this time." Says Maman.

And she's still hauling onna door and her teefs are gritted togedder.

So Dadda says, "How's my pretty lady dis morning?"

And he leens ober, and gibs her a kiss (a fing I don't unnerstan - it's puttin' lips togedder, or puttin' lips onna udder person wif dere permission. Weird hoomin fing, sorta wike grooming but not nearly as useful.)

And he pulls opin da door!

And in rushes a blast ob cold air!

So out runs da Dawg, going wike his tail is on fire, yellin', "GO! GO! GO!"

And Cokie binks up and says, "Oooo! Outside! Wookatdat! Meebe I'll GO..."

And *WHOMP* da door geds pulled back in his face, and dere's a *thunk* as Cokie's face meets da door.

And Missy's yelling, "CLOSE DA DOOR! CLOSE DA DOOR!" wif her hed inna air and her ears standing straight out frum her hed like hellycopter blades. And she's standing up inna pootie-box and gibs a HUGE, great-big *FUMP* and pooties go ebberywhere.

So I'm ducking pooties wif Clover anna Beeb atta udder end obba habbytat.

And Maman puts her good shoulder uppa'gainst da door and manages to ged it shut tight.

And Dadda wooks down atta Cat and axts:

"Whuts your problem, Furball?"

Anna Cokie-Cat wooks up and he's still crosseyed dizzy frum habbin' bonked his hed onna door, but ebben on auto-matk-pilot dis Cat has dis kinda built-in whine: "FOOD! PLEESE! FOOD!"

And Mouse is wooking at Dadda wiffa ebbil-eye-ball and says, "Feed da stoopit cat. Feed da stoopit cat."

Dis is cos Mouse beeleebs in Bunny Mind-Control.

And Dadda gently squeezes Maman, and den wooks down atta Cat and says, "Come along, Bugalugs!"

And dey sort ob amble off.

Which leebs us wif Maman, standing dere, leaning against da Door Toda Back Gardin.

And she wooks at us, and wooks atta pooties dat are all ober da floor, and wooks at Missy who is Highly Disapproving, and at me, Clover anna Beeb, who are all atta end ob our habbytats onna'count ob habbing been ducking Missy's flying pooties; and she wooks ober at Mouse who is busy wif his Bunny Mind Control, and Maman says,

"And how are my sweet-heart bunnies today? How is everybun? How's my lovely CloverBun? And my little tough-bun, Beebe-Boy? And how's my em>sweet Mouse-ums? And my darling little MissyBun? And my cute Babby Georgie-Porgy? All my bunnies all right? Alla sweet'um bunnies happy?"

I meen, whut can I say?

Dere is just a whole lotta talking, and ab-so-loot-ly no communnykayshun going on around heer.

----------By George

George's 1st Strand, Day Number 1
Now Playing: Higher Ground
Topic: Our Warren, 2006

Maman sed she's gonna change alla litter boxes in Our Warren tidday.

Figgers.

Just whin you get something the way its s'sposed to be, somebunny comes along and messes it up.

Missy bopped me over da hed wiffa toob yestidday, too.

We all got noo toilet paper roll toobs to play wif, and afta chewing on it a liddle bit, I went ober toda udder end obba habbytat to habba nap, and woke up wif Missy bopping me ober da hed wiffa toob.

She sed she wasn't trying to bop me. She was trying to gedda toob innu da wadder dish to soften it up, but it wouldn't go, so bopping me was justa axydeint, but, you know, it wassa kinda "axydeint" dat I can live wiffout.

Den Maman came innu da Bun Room and wanted to know where alla hay onna floor had come frum.

"All I do is sweep up afta you buggers." She sed.

And I'm standing up, wooking, and was wike, "Well, you know, stuff happins."

And Maman starts petting me and she's wike, "Liddle George issa good boy. He doesn't throw hay onna floor for his Maman to sweep up, does he?"

And Missy is dere saying, "Humph, not by half he doesn't frow hay onna floor, wady! You shouldda been heer wast nite whin he was tunnellin' fru alla hay and it was flyin' ebberywheres!"

And Maman, who is preddy resistant to bunny-mind-control is still petting me and saying,

"George is such a good widdle bunny-boy! He's my perfect widdle man!"

And I'm getting a good scratch around da ears anna cheeks.

So Missy trundles ober and sticks her hed unner Maman's hand and demands,

"Pet me. I'm bedder."

Which is preddy much Missy's attytood alla time.

So Maman hassa go at pikin' up MissyBun, which preddy much has NOT bin on Missy's menu ob ideas.

And Missy's wike, "Hey! Wady! No! Down! No! Put Me Down! No!"

And Missy's big old back paddle-feets is going wike mad, and Maman isn't strong enuf to pik up Missy ennyways, so she gibs up and back Missy comes innu da habbytat wiffa *fump*. And Missy runs on innu da pooty box - which is her way ob "okkypyin' da Highest Ground" which is whut Hunny told us to do whin we is defendin' our rites.

As Hunny sed, "You okkypye da Highest Ground and den glare...ebben iffa Highest Ground you are okkypying happens to only be two inches high, it's still Highest, it's yours, and you're okkypying it. Dat's how bunnies defend dere terrytory. Hokay? You ged up dere onna Highest Ground and glare."

So Missy was standing up onna pooty box, and Maman wooks at her and gibs her a scritch onna nose and says,

"Tomorrow I gotta change dat poty-box, MissyBun Hawpa! Wook at alla dose pooties! Good grief, gurl!"

And Missy's wike, "Yeah. So? Whut abouddit? Des are mine and George's and we werked hard to ged dis menny inna box. Dere all ours, which makes dis place all ours. And I meen alla it. So don't go geddin enny stoopit ideas, wady. Leeb dis Highest Ground alone!"

But wike I sed, Maman isn't good at bunny-mind-control. You hab to hab a reasonably 'Tellygint subjeck to werk wif, and dat wuldn't be Our Maman.

And so Maman goes ober to see Clover and Beebe and ob course she notices dere pootie box, and den she notices Mouse's pootie box, and so she goes to ged Daddawho is Uppastairs inna Liberry and geds him to come down to notice alla pootie boxes, and dat makes him bemember da Cat Pootie Box, which is Uppastairs inna Guest Room Baf Room onna "Temporary Basis".

And so, a widdle waiter on, Cokie-da-Fat-Cat shambles Downnastairs, and waddles innu da Bun Room and slides to a stop unnerneaf ob Missy and my habbytat.

"I just wanna fank you for geddin' Dadda to bemember our pootie box." He sed.

And Missy wooks down on him and glares. "I'm gonna call Da Dawg on you. You aren't s'sposed to be inna Bun Room, Cat."

And Cokie heebs himself innu a standing position and says, "Call all you want, Rabbit, cossa Dawg is Uppastairs wif Dadda and Maman hassa musiks on, and you're in your habbytat and can't come hed-butt me. So shaddup. I was just fanking you ennyways. Cos we gotta cleen pootie box wif no pooties, and no stink. And Dadda sed it's fanks toda bunnies for beminding him. So fanks, Bunnies!"

And he, wike, chuckled and ambled on outta da Bun Room inna direkshun obba Kitchin. Den he stopped, wooked ober his shoulder and added:

"And tomorrow, it's gonna be your turn to hab your pootie boxes cleened. And not a momint too soon. Cos, guess whut, bunnies? Your 'Highest Ground' stinks!"

And DEN he flipped his tail at us and shambled out!

Well, dat did it.

Missy was so mad dat she *THUMPED* rite then and there, and so did Clover, da Beeb AND Mouse, too, so I *thumped* rite along wif dem, just to add to the gen'ral lebbel ob noise.

And preddy soon, Maman and Dadda, followed by Da Dawg, come thundering Downnastairs innu da Bun Room, wanting to know whut alla noise is about.

And Maman opins up alla habbytats and stawts cuddlin' bunnies, and saying dat it's gonna be hokay and ebberybunny is gonna be all rite, and den, wike her eyes is suddinly opined and she can see, she turns to Dadda and says,

"Tomorrow we hab got to change theses pootie boxes!"

So now its Tomorrow, and Maman and Dadda are geddin reddy to go to Church, and Da Dawg is Outside inna Garden, soda Catz hab come Downnastairs frumma Liberry, and allreddy, Cokie-da-Fat-Cat is sniggering aboud how we're gonna getta pootie boxes changed and won't hab no "Highest Ground" to okkypye ennymore again.

So Missy and Clover are busy sitting tight on dere "Highest Ground". Mouse figgers he'll wait and box da furst hands dat come innu his habbytat wiffout treats in dem, and defend his "Highest Ground" dat way. He says dat Catz hab no "High Ground" to defend and dat's why dey are Catz, not bunnies. Anna Cokie-Cat can't figger out why we wuld wanna defend "Higher Ground inna furst place.

Person'ly, I fink it's anudder case ob inner-species culture-clash going on heer again.

And now Maman and Dadda are added toda mix and it's gonna be bad around heer inna'nudder few hours.

So me, I'm just sitting here, sorting fru da hay left ober frum last nite, eating da good stuff and frowing da udder stuff...onna floor...

----------By George

George's 12th Strand, Day Numbur 31
Now Playing: Tradishun!
Hokay!

Well, I got dis all messed up onna'count ob Dadda.

In Inkland, where he comes frum, it seems dat dey hab alla des Tradishuns dat are berry impawtant toda hollydays.

Wun obba Tradishuns is dat ebberybunny takes time OFF frum Christmus to Noo Years. Yeah. Dadda says dey don't do ennyfing 'cept sit around, wook inna Big White Box Inna Kitchin, pick atta Christmus Cake, eat goodies, hab naps inna chair inna Sitting Rooms, read buks dey found unner'neaf obba Christmus tree, an' compwain aboud how full dere tummy is.

Which I fink issa preddy good deal. And so didda rest ob Our Warren, 'specially my MissyBun who wikes to eat ennyways (an' she is wun BIG, beautiful bunny Gurl, lemme tell you!). So we added dis Tradishun to our hollydays and I taked TIME OFF frum werking onna blog.

So, onna'count ob Dadda, we hab been keeping up wif Tradishuns rilly good around heer, and so we hab bin just sitting around, eating treats, habbin' naps, standing up and being all cute whin Maman opins uppa Big White Box door, eating sum more and menshuning how full we all feel.

Ob course da Catz hab bin comin' downnastairs, too, and are trying to keep up wif Tradishun too, but I don't fink Catz hab enny Tradishuns 'cept dat dey herd aboudd'em frum us, and now feel dey also wanna hab dem.

Dat's whut Beep-Beep-da-Calico-Cat sed.

"Eating a wotta good stuff issa berry good Tradishun to hab on enny okayshun." She sed.

And den she went to see whut was left inna Dawg's bowl, which ob course, upset da Dawg, but dat's her whole idea.

So ennyways, it was onna'count ob Tradishun dat we didn't ged hextcited whin Cokie-Da-Fat-Cat came inna Bun Room and stawted to eat da bunny pellets dat Missy had pushed outta da habbytat on toda floor. Cos you see, Sharing is also anudder berry strong Tradishun atta time obba hollydays, and wun dat Maman says we shuld carry on fru da whole Year.

And seeing as how Rabbits do not fight ober food ennyhows, and allus share food, keeping dis Tradishun going is no big stretch for us.

But I'm disgressing (New werd. I was digesting a buk ob werds ob Maman's until she piked me up and I hadda ged offit. She geds upset whin I stawt digesting sum ob her buks.)

So Cokie-cat was dere eatin' da pellets anna Dawg came in and sed,

"Hey Cat! No Catz inna Bun Room! Dat's da Rool! Now GET OUT, or I'm gonna call Dadda!"

And Cokie wooked at him for a sekond, and sed, "Wookit Dawg, I gotta tummy fulla sumfing not good and dere is no grass to eat, so dis issa next bestest fing. Des bunny pellets is made ob grass. You eat dem, you make sum gas, you pass da gas and you feels bedder. You know how it goes. So can you just, dis WUN TIME, shaddup and lemme be?"

Anna Dawg wooked around and axted Mouse, "Issa Cat rite aboudda pellets? Are dey rilly grass?"

And Mouse sed, "Ob course, Stoopit."

And Since "Stoopit" issa Dawg's udder name, he wagged his tail at Mouse and stawted to eat da pellets, too, cos as he sed,

"I got ahold ob sum ob dat 'FROOT CAKE' or 'CHRISTMUS CAKE' or whut ebber dat is dat Maman made Dadda for Christmus, and it's bin sittin' in my tummy wike sum kinda house-brick forda wongest time. I need sumfing to moob it on, you know?"

And Mouse sed, "It's a deel. Just take your gas-producin' butt elsewhere, cos dis issa Bun Room and we don't want enny ob your gas onna'count obba fact dat we hab enuf ob our own."

And bof obba cat anna dawg sed, "Hokay." And dey eated alla pellets dat was onna floor.

Anna widdle waidder on, dey went uppastairs toda Liberry to see whut was going on wif Maman and Dadda.

And preddy soon I heer Maman axt Dadda, "Was dat you?"

And I heer Dadda say, "No."

And den I heer Maman say, "So which wun ob dose buggers was it? Cos you bedder find out cos its comin' your way."

And I heer Dadda say, "Well, you can tell if its da Dawg, cos he allus wooks at his tail wike he's wondering if he shuld divorce his back-end. And you kind tell if itsa Cokie-cat, cos he waves his tail, wike he's trying to blame it onna Dawg."

And I heer Maman say, "Well, bof obb'em are asleep. So take your pick."

And den I heer Dadda say, rilly loud, "Phew-WHAR! Hokay, dat does it! WAKE UP! Cokie! Marc!"

And I can heer Cokie snufflin, wike, "Whonk, Snort, *hork*" anna Dawg stawts to bark, and dere issa wotta thunderin' feets onna stairs, fru da Lounge anna Dining Room, and innu da Kitchin' and den heer dey come wike a HERD innu da Bun Room!

And Clover, who is nextest toda door sees dem furst and runs for her pootie-box, mumbling, "Oh crud."

And Dadda stawts yellin', "Dat's it! Whut hab da two ob you bin eatin?"

And Mouse, staring rilly hard at Dadda says, "Bunny pellets."

And Dadda says, "You bin eating BUNNY PELLETS, habin't you?"

Anna Cokie-cat wooks at Mouse in his habbytat and says, "Wookit, bunny rabbit, I'm gonna kick your butt."

And Mouse says, "Bring it on, Fat-Boy. I knew Belinda."

Anna Cat got up frum where he was sittin unner Mouse's habbytat and went to sit unner'neaf ob Clover's, cos he bemembered dat Belinda Bunny had whooped him menny years bifore.

And Clover wooked down and sed, "Wookit, Cat, I knew Belinda, too."

So Cokie moobed ober to unner'neaf ob Missy and me, and Missy pulled dose loppy ears ob hers out to be almost horryzonal frum her hed and glared atta Cat and sed,

"An' I was TRAINED by Belinda Bunny, Cat, so don't plop your sorry fat butt down heer!"

So Cokie sighed dis big sigh and went to sit byda Dawg.

And inna mean-time, Dadda was still yellin':

"You two are da most hopeless lot! Eating BUNNY PELLETS! Dat's rilly low. BUNNY PELLETS! I know why you're eating dem, doh. Becos dey are GRASS and bof you buggers hab upset tummies frum scouring uppa crumbs and stealing offa plates! And now you're bof GAS-BAGS!"

And Maman came down frumma upstairs innu da Bun Room and wooked at Dadda and sed, "I can't be habbin' wif dis."

And she sounded almost wike Belinda, who usta say dat alla time.

And just den, we stawted to smell sumfing.

And it was BAD.

And Dadda yelled, "Hokay! Which wunna you buggers was it DIS time?"

Anna Dawg put his hed down onna floor, anna Cat wooked alla'round wif rilly big eyes, and I'm wike, "whuttdaheck?" cos I knowed my tummy was werking fine.

And Dadda grabbed hold obba Back Door, and jerked it opin, lettin' inna blast ob cold air dat slammed innu Missy and me.

"Outside wif you!" He yelled atta Dawg.

And wif his head held down rilly low, da Dawg slinked past Dadda and sorta flowed downna steps innu da nitetime Back Garden.

Den Dadda yanked Mouse's habbytat away frumma screen-porch door.

"Hooray! Law & Order!" Yelled Mouse.

But Dadda just opined da Screen-porch door, wooked atta Cat and sed, "Get outta heer bifore I plant my foot up your backside and wear you wike a furry slipper. Now p*ss off!"

And Cokie unnerstands da last few werds ob dat perfectly well, as we all do. Dey are Dadda's Inkwish werds for "Ged outta heer cos I'm getting rilly rilly short-tempered rite aboud now."

So Cokie got up and scurried past Dadda, out on toda screen-porch, where he wikes to go ennyways. Den frum outta nowheres, comes Beep-Beep, mobbin' at high speeds frumma Kitchin. She blows by Dadda, scoots unner Mouse's habbytat and zooms out on toda screen-porch, too.

Ob course, Dadda hadn't seed her coming, so she s'prised him, and he yelled, "And wheredaheck are you goin' Missus?" but she was alreddy past him and out onna Screen Porch.

So Dadda slammed da Screen Porch door and shubbed Mouse back in frunt obbit.

And Mouse glared at him and called out, "Hey! Law & Order! It's time for my show! Take me in to see Law & Order! I wanta watch Law & Order! Hey! Come back! Hey!"

And whin Dadda brought us salads, Mouse lunged at him and gabe Dadda a good box 'round da hand.

And Maman sed, "Whutsamatta wiffa Mouse?"

And Dadda sed, "Blowed if I know."

"Dat's for not taking me in to see Law & Order!" growled Mouse.

"Must be cos we didn't take him into see Law & Order." Sed Maman. "We're breaking wif Tradishun and he doesn't wike dat. Mouse is a very Tradishunal Mouse is Our Mouse." (which is also summa da "Inkwish" kinda tawk dat she learned while libbin' in Inkwand.)

And Dadda glared and sed, "Well, alla des Tradishunal annymuls had bedder stop it, onna'count ob I've hadda'nuf ob dis. I'll bring inna Dawg anna Catz, but if we hab enny more ob dis GAS biznezz, dey are ALL gonna sleep upstairs inna Liberry on dere on."

And Maman turned away and sed quietly, "Yeah, wun gas-bag inna bedroom is enuf."

And Dadda sed, "Whut?"

But he was letting inna Dawg and den da Catz and wasn't paying her much attenshun, which is prob'ly a good fing.

And just as ebberybun was milling around inna Bun Room, trying to ged organnyized inna direkshun obba TREAT CUPBOARD - I sniffed da air, and dere wassa STINK moobing in.

So I wooked at Missy and she shook her hed. And I wooked ober atta Mouse and he he shaked his hed.

And den Dadda stwatd up again: "Which wunna you buggers was it dis time?"

Anna Dawg whineed, "NOT ME!" and wooked at Cokie-cat who geds des huge eyes and yowls it issn't him dis time eidder. And ob course, its not Bee-Beep, cos she didn't eat enny pellets, and besides, she had allreddy got her treat frum Maman and was allreddy gone uppastairs on her own. She is sneaky wike dat.

And Dadda yells, "Dat's IT! ALLA YOU BUGGERS - EXCEPT DA RABBITS - GET UPPASTAIRS NOW!"

Anna Dawg anna Catz ran.

Cos you don't stand around wookin' stoopit when Our Dadda yells wike dat. 'Cept for us. We Bunnies don't habba do ennyfing, Maman says, 'cept whut we wanna do.

And so we're left sittin' inna Bun Room, Alla Us Togedder, and Missy says, "Hokay, if it wasn't da Dawg, and it wasn't eidder obba Catz, den whodaheck wassit who did dat wast Big Stink?"

And Mouse added, "Cos dat was beautiful timing."

And Beebe, who is getting old but is still preddy nuts, popped up his hed frum nextest to his wife-bun, Clover, and sed,

"Yo! If ya concentrate rilly hard onna back end, and den squeeze, just wike Hunny sed, it rilly werks! Watch!"

And we alla us togedder sniffed da air, and shure enuf, you culd smell it.

So dere's anudder Tradishun dat's been passed down in Our Warren.

Da Hollydays heer are going rilly great! Hope yours are going GREAT, too!

------------By George

George's 12th Strand, Day Numbur 16
Now Playing: George's Christmas Story - Part III (Conclusion)
Topic: Da Lore
“Dis way!” Belinda called out across the Great Divide. “Come on, Hunny! Dis Way!”

The other Bridge Bunnies bolted to join her, all eyes peering hard into the misty centre of the Rainbow Bridge where the clouds gathered, so thin, yet so impenetrable, that separated worlds.

“Dis way!” They murmured amongst themselves, softly at first, and then louder. “Come dis way!”

“Come on, Hunny!” Cried Belinda, shifting her feet impatiently and waggling her ears. “Run dis way! I knows you sees me, you daft owd bugger! Now run dis way! Dat cloud behind you can’t ged ober Da Bridge!”

And Hunny, the eldest and wisest bunny of Our Warren, on the other side of the Great Divide, lifted up his heavy loppy ears and ran as he hadn’t run in recent memory.

Behind him rolled the great cloud, black as ink and menacing as a thunderhead. Inside it was contained five years of misery, particularly the memory of an August day before he’d come to Our Warren. Hunny remembered the heat of the sun bearing down on him that day, the fear, and the sadness of being OnAlone, a rabbit unloved and unwanted, in a cage with a sign on the front that said: “FOR SALE – RABBIT & CAGE - $25.00”

Inside of the cage there was no shade. There was no food. There was no water. And there was no Hope.

He was in that last stage of awful life for An Unwanted Easter Bunny, OnAlone: beloved by nobun and with nobunny there for him to love. His heart, like that of so many unwanted bunnies, was about to break - and there was none to care.

So the sun beat down on Hunny as he lay there amongst the other cast-offs of a sad, barren household, while all around him, the people came and went. And no one stopped, and no one looked, and no one noticed as they went about picking through the pieces of other peoples’ lives being sold at cut-rate prices, that a small life among them was about to give up on living in their egocentric world.

Now the memory of all that human uncaring and disinterested cruelty reared up behind Hunny, a vast cloud filled with the heartbreak of millions of other lost and abandoned Easter bunnies – and Hunny ran, leading other bunnies – bunnies who had also made the decision to leave the World Below to begin the mysterious journey to The Rainbow Bridge.

But Hunny had not made his final decision to leave on that hot August day that was pursuing him now – he had made his decision eight years later under entirely different circumstances. Because Maman had rescued him from the hot August sun, from the cage where the sign said “FOR SALE – RABBIT & CAGE - $25.00 – REDUCED…” to “$15.00… then “$10.00”… and finally, “$5.00.” And Maman had thrown the green paper “munny” at man who had left Hunny in that cage OnAlone, and had grabbed up Hunny and rushed him to safety at Our Warren.

So Hunny had lived eight years at Our Warren and he was happy there, first with his ideal bondmate, Maggie, and later, with Poet. He had gone to a place named “St. Luke's,” riding in his basket decorated with a big blue bow and silver streamers. He had taken part in Maman and Dadda’s wedding and gotten to sit on their wedding rings during the ceremony. He had watched Phil-the-Lad go off to the Navy and return all grown up in a handsome blue uniform.

And Hunny had been there to greet all the new bunnies who had arrived at Our Warren, like Belinda, and a little bunny who settled on the name of "George" (because he didn't have any other name). And Hunny stayed at Our Warren to grow old – older than most bunnies ever do.

But finally, the lure of The Rainbow Bridge became stronger, and it was time for me, Hunny to follow where so many of his Warren-mates had gone before. He was an old rabbit, An Honoured Elder Of His Tribe (as a very wise hoomin called him), and he knew it was time for him to leave Maman and Dadda behind and begin his journey to The Meadow. Hunny wasn’t sure what he would find there, but he had seen The Rainbow Bridge in Old Rabbit Dreams, and knew it was, above all, a safe place to be.

So with grace and dignity, he took his leave of Maman and Dadda and good Doctor Sharin. He had wished that they wouldn’t have cried as they did, but there was nothing he could do to change them. They would learn – eventually – as hoomins always learned – so slowly for a “smart” species. They would learn when they met up with him - and Maggie and Poet, and Hawthorn and Belinda and all of the other Bridge Bunnies who were waiting for them in The Meadow - when they, too, crossed The Rainbow Bridge. So Hunny left Maman and Dadda behind very quietly, very gently.

And just as he crossed over, he suddenly found other bunnies who had also left that day, and the great, black cloud of memory that was rushing down upon them all.

“Dis way!” He shouted to all the bunnies gathered with him and instinctively bounded off towards the spark he glimpsed in the distance.

“Dis way, bunnies!”

His back legs, which lately hadn’t responded to a thing his brain had told them, now suddenly worked perfectly, gathering under him and pushing, sending him flying as he hadn’t flown in years. The faint glow of the Rainbow Bridge was growing brighter. He lifted his large, heavy head and shouted over his shoulder to the crowd of bunnies following after him:

“Dis way, bunnies! Dis way!”

And the bunnies, some old, many young, heard his voice and followed behind in a great, fleeting group.

Out of the corners of his eyes, Hunny caught the sight of other shapes, fleeing as he was. It was only a glimpse, but he was certain he was seeing dwaggies and kitties and other animal shapes, all running free, all in the same direction towards lights that glittered, somehow, almost as brightly as the one for which he instinctively steered.

The black cloud of memory began to fall away behind them as the light before them grew.

“Dis way!” Called Hunny, encouraging all those who were running with him. “Dis way, bunnies!”

Now they were at the Bridge, passing under the great arch that suspended the glittering span across the Great Divide.

“Dis Way!” Shouted Belinda from her end.

Paws thundered and ears streamed in the wind. The roiling black cloud of memory reared up before the bridge, growing great like a wave against the shore, and then crashed into foam, defeated, to flow back into the World Below.

The bunnies crowded over the Rainbow Bridge and piled to a disorganised halt. They looked around in wonder.

A new world.

They stared.

And then –

“Hokay, ebberybunny, wookit ober heer…”

And there she was, an English Spot bunny with her ears pricked forward and her dark eyes bright, sitting up, paws patting, and her wiggling nose nuzzling each bunny within reach.

“I am Belinda Bunny, and dis issa Rainbow Bridge. Now come on ober to dat liddle houz an’ do whut da sign says - hab sum hay, habba nap - cos we gots sum to share.”

And over the crowd of bunnies Belinda winked at Hunny.

And that’s how it is at The End of the Rainbow Bridge, where the World Below touches the World to Come. There’s an English Spot bunny who waits in a little apple twig house beside The Rock at The End of The Rainbow Bridge, and she has maps of The Meadow that show where all the best look-out points are located, and where all the best clover patches are to be found. And she also has managed to gather together a selection of maps for other animals, so that she has a whole rack of “Maps 4 Dawgs” and “Maps 4 Catz,” so that no newcomer ever feels insecure or overcome upon arrival at The Meadow.

As this English Spot Bunny says, "Alla Us Togedder make a warren, and heer at dis Great Warren, dere is nebber NoBunny OnAlone!"

And this English Spot Bunny (whose name is Belinda Bunny) has very acute hearing, as does her placid, little blue-eyed, white Holland Lop companion (whose name is Hawthorn), and whenever either bunny detects the sound of bunny feet running in the distance from the memory of the past, they dash out of the little apple twig house, down the white pebble path and around The Rock, to The End of the Bridge. And they shout into the thin mists that separate the worlds,

“Dis way, bunnies! Come dis way!”

And when the new arrival speeds over the Bridge, and the painful parts of the past dissolve like foam and are forever left behind, Belinda Bunny gently nudges the newcomer with her anvil-shaped head, shoving him or her firmly up the white pathway where hangs the sign, “Hab sum hay – and habba nap. We gots sum to share. Alla Us Togedder - NoBunny OnAlone!”


-------- By George

George's 12th Strand, Day Numbur 15
Now Playing: George's Christmas Story - Part II
Topic: Da Lore

Hawthorn was eating hay beside the clear little stream that cut through the middle of The Meadow.

“Hey you. I need twigs. Appul twigs.” Said Belinda Bunny.

Hawthorn looked up at her and blinked his bright blue eyes. His little loppy ears stood out horizontally from his head. Hearing was a new experience for him, since he had been deaf in the Life Below.

“Uh huh.” He said, and chewed his mouthful of hay thoughtfully.

“Go gedd’em.” Belinda urged, pushing him gently in the shoulder with her anvil-shaped head. “Cos dere’s udder bunnies comin’ an’ I fink dere hasta be sumplace good for dem to arribe at. And dere currently issn’t.”

Hawthorn resisted her push by planting his tiny Holland-lop feet four-square on the lush grass.

“Don’t’cha fink dat if dere was s’sposed to be a place to arribe at, it wuld hab, sort ob, well, you know,” he said, continuing to chewing carefully. “Alreddy been put dere? I mean, dis IS The Rainbow Bridge and The Meadow and it’s alreddy perfckt.”

And Belinda thought for a moment, with her black ears pricked forward as they always were when she was thinking.

“Well, they let me in to make it more perfeckt.” She said at last, with a certain amount of English Spot conviction. “Cos dat’s whut I do – I make fings bedder. Now go gedda twigs, hokay?”

And Hawthorn frowned, but he toddled off towards the grove of apple trees that grows in the midst of the Meadow.

And while he was there, gathering twigs in his little mouth, he met a number of the other Bridge Bunnies who were there browsing for chew-twigs. And in his sincere, Holland Lop way, he convinced them that it would be a good idea to also bring twigs to Belinda at the Rock At the End of The Bridge. It was always easier, he said (and the other Bridge Bunnies agreed), to do what Belinda wanted, because with or without help, she was pretty much going to do whatever it was that she had in mind anyway.

“Hunny’s comin’.” Belinda said when Hawthorn returned.

Hawthorn stopped in his tracks, dropped the twigs he was carrying and stared at her in loppy perplexity.

“How’d you werk dat wun out?”

But Belinda just nodded and blinked her dark, penetrating eyes and continued: “Hunny’s comin’. And he’s runnin’. An’ alla bunnies wif him are runnin’ just wike we did.” And with English Spot directness, she added, “I gotta hurry.”

And in her energetic, focused English Spot way, Belinda began arranging apple twigs into a sharp, peaky pile.

Before long, there was a respectable-looking pile of twigs beside the Rock At the End of The Rainbow Bridge.

“Hurry.” Urged Belinda. “Cos da past is chasin’ dem and dey are runnin’, ebbery bun ob dem.”

Inside her anvil-shaped head, Belinda knew what she wanted the collection of apple twigs to look like – a little twiggy house, with a round window beside the hole-shaped front door, with a little pointed roof over all. And she also wanted a pathway of nice, white stones that led from the End of The Rainbow Bridge, around the edge of the Rock, right to the little hole-shaped front door. And she most of all wanted a sign - a big, brightly lit sign - that said something nice, like maybe “WELCOME”, but whatever it said, it had to say it in huge, brilliant letters.

With her teeth, she stripped the bark off some twigs until she had a pile of small squares. Then she then put the squares of bark out on the grass to let them get wet in one of the small, delightful passing showers that rolled across the Meadow with reassuring regularity. And then she took the wet pieces of bark, straightened them all out and carefully piled them up and sat on them until they were flat.

Then she picked up the pile of flattened squares of twig-bark in her mouth and carried them off to a section of the Meadow where her indefatigable curiosity had once led her to visit.

This part of the Meadow was humid and hot. There were huge trees and vines hanging everywhere, and the ground was covered with a deep litter of leaves and strange plants the like of which she did not recognise. The creatures who lived here were very different too, to those she had previously encountered. Some of the creatures looked very like the hoomins she had come to know and love.

She took her little collection of flattened bark and raced through the hot, dripping trees where there was little sunshine. She went quickly and surely, confident that there were no predators in the Meadows here at The Rainbow Bridge.

And she was right.

Presently, she came upon one of the human-shaped creatures and in the Common Language of those who live in the extensive Meadows at The Rainbow Bridge, she communicated what she needed the human-shaped animal to do to help her. And the human-shaped animal, who knew about the cold, precise and deadly laboratories in the Life Below and knew about the great-hearted white bunnies who were also prisoners there, helped her, with a twig held dexterously between long fingers, using some “stuff” in pots. It took a little while, but the human-shaped animal understood exactly what Belinda needed and why she was in such great haste.

When the human-shaped creature had finished brushing “stuff” on to the little flattened squares of twig-bark, Belinda thanked him and allowed him to satisfy his curiosity about bunnies by touching her forward-pricked ears, and her wiggling nose and her alert, puffy tail that were so unlike his own. Then she took up the squares of twig-bark and charged at speed for her own section of The Meadow.

“I got maps.” She told Hawthorn upon her arrival back at the Rock at the End of The End of The Rainbow Bridge..

But when she surveyed the pile of twigs beside the Rock beside the Rainbow Bridge, it was still a pile of twigs.

“I gotta pikchur in my hed,” said Belinda, “But I dunno how to ged it outta my hed an innu dis pile ob twigs. And Hunny’s comin’ and I gotta ged dis done. I can’t be habbin’ wif dis…”

“Mebbe you aren’t s’sposed to.” Replied Hawthorn. “You allus hab bin one to be doin’ fings you aren’t s’sposed to do. Bemember Maman shoutin’ ‘NO BELINDA!’ at’choo?”

Belinda thought for a moment.

“Dat was den and dis is now.” She said.

Then she sat down beside the Rock and looked out over the Rainbow Bridge.

The curtain between Life Below and Life After was at its very thinnest, a mere veil as thin as spiders’ silk and just as strong. Her dark, intense gaze could penetrate it easily, and through the mists, she could see bunnies – white bunnies, black bunnies, English Spots, miniLops; bunnies with Rexy toes and helicopter ears, and bunnies with butterflies on their noses and bands around their eyes; bunnies with blue eyes, brown eyes, and ruby eyes, all fleeing in terror driven by the dark cloud of their pasts rolling on behind them.

And her penetrating gaze hardened and her ears stood up straight.

“I can’t be habbin’ wif dis!”

And like lightning, she turned, and directed her eyes on the pile of apple twigs.

“Well, don’t just lie dere doin’ nuffin’!” She commanded the pile. “Ebberybunny hassa part to play! We will work Alla Us Togedder! - Becos Nobunny is ebber gonna fink dey is ebber gonna be OnAlone! ebber again!”

And there was a bright flash, like lightning from a clear, blue sky. It didn’t come from the pile of twigs and it didn’t come from Belinda, nor from any one thing, but it came from all around, like the very air ignited with heatless fire.

And when Belinda looked again, there was the little house of her imagination, with the little hole for a door with the round little window beside it and the peaked twig roof arching over all.

Best of all, there was a huge, rectangular sign balanced on the very tippy top of the peaked roof and supported by longer twigs at either end. And picked out in tricky, brightly glowing letters, like leftovers from the brilliant flash that had built the house, were the words, “HAB SUM HAY.”

“Dat’s whut Hunny usta say.” Belinda said to Hawthorn. “’Hab sum hay and habba nap. I gots sum to share.’” And Belinda looked around at The Meadow and at the other bunnies who were gathered there around her.

“We gots lots to share.” She said to the assembly.

Bunny murmured to bunny and soon they were off in different directions, scattered as if by the gentle breeze that blew continuously through The Meadow.

Meanwhile Belinda hopped inside the house through the hole of a door and discovered that there was a small shelf, and a little table. She laid her stack of carefully lettered maps on the desk. Hawthorn made a few trips to build a stack of selected hay and installed a fragrant pile of dill.

Then the other bunnies began to return, bringing bundles of their favourite treats. Soon the little house was almost bursting with heaps of apples, raisins, Craisins™, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, kiwi fruits, almonds, sunflower seeds, and bundles of every herb imaginable. Outside Hawthorn’s single haystack had grown into several, with the hay sorted according to kind – oaten, Lucerne, alfalfa, timothy, orchard, and mixed. Each pile was neatly labelled with a little sign staked into the ground before it.

And some bunnies with an inclination towards engineering laid a pathway of smooth, white pebbles that reached from the End of the Bridge, around the Rock and led right to the hole of a doorway.

Just as the last pebble was put into place, Belinda’s ever-alert ears detected the faint vibrations of many paws thundering over frozen ground in the distance.

And Belinda ran – a black and white streak – down the little pebbled pathway, around the Rock and came to a halt at The End of The Rainbow Bridge.

--------By George

To Be Continued

Posted by Our Warren at 2:54 PM EST

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