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Sunday, 12 February 2006
George's Second Strand; Day Number 12
Now Playing: SNOW!

It's Snowing at Our Warren!


I'm not talking a few little flakes, either - I'm talking the stuff that started last night before we went to bed and is still going on when we waked up.

Not just a liddle SNOW Shower, or mild Minor Flurries,I'm talking a whole, major SNOW EVENT going on!

The kind ob SNOW that the wedderpeoples get all hextchited about, anna Noospeople have "Team Coverage" over.

Dis issa kinds SNOW dat Maman's favourite Wedderman, "Hurricane" Glenn Schwartz (who typed his own Buk aboutta History Ob Wedder In Philadelphia), was ebben onna tellyvision about last nite, and he is so impawtant dat he nebber hasta werk onna Tellyvishon onna Saturday nite unless dere is gonna be a Wedder Event happening!

So you know that this SNOW issa'pawtant SNOW, and not just a reg'lar one.

So last nite, just when we should hab all been settling down inna nice, warm hay to eat and observe da wedder outside obba Our Warren's Memorial Window,Da Dawg comes cruising by wif Dadda coming along behind, saying he hasta go outside innu da Back Gardin.

Now Da Dawg allus hasta go out to visit his Back Gardin, last fing before he will settle down for da Nite. It's some kinda "Dawg Fing" dat he says he hasta do, onna'count ob "Dawg Lore" dat is berry dif'frunt frum Da Lore dat Rabbits know.

So Dadda opins da Back Door forda Dawg to go out innu Da Back Gardin. Now da Back Door is rilly TWO doors, a Big Door, anna Screen Door, and they are nextest to Missy and my Habbytat, and as soon assa Big Door is opin, in blows a HUGE gust ob cold air anna bunch ob snow flakes. Den Dadda opins da Screen Door and out goes Da Dawg.

And wif alla cold air blowing in, I'm wike, "Hey! Shut da door!"

But dere's Dadda, standing dere atta Screen Door, wooking out atta SNOW.

Anna cold air is blowing in, and Dadda turns to Maman and says, "Glenn's right. It's SNOWING a lot."

And Missy's dere, wike, "No joke, Smart Guy! Now close da door!"

And Dadda's still standing dere, wooking outta da Screen Door, and he says to Maman, "It's not all that cold outside."

And I'm finking, "You're saying dat cos it's not your backside dat's habbin' wind blowing up it."

And Mouse says, "I dunno about dat Glenn-guy, but I smell a whole LOT more SNOW onna way. Is Dadda gonna shut dat door or is he gonna let alla cold in heer?"

And Dadda's still standing wiffa Big Door opin, and he says to Maman, "Wook at dat. Da SNOW is almost up to Da Dawg's belly."

And Clover says, "Alla dis cold air blowing in heer can't be good for Beebe's sneezles."

And finally Maman says to Dadda, "You'd better close da door, dear, so we don't heat alla Ewing Township."

Notice da she doesn't say a werd about not heating alla da bunnies!

Ennyways, preddy soon, Dadda's back atta Big Door, pulling it opin soda Dawg can come back in. And as usual, heer comes Da Dawg and he's cobbered wif SNOW.

And Dadda calls out to Maman, "Wook atta Christmas Dawg!"

And he's holding opin bof doors, and alla cold air is pouring in again.

So I've, like, about haddit, and I *thump*.

And Dadda up frum letting inna Dawg and says, "Whut's your pwoblem, Bug-A-Lugs?" and wooks ober at Missy.

And Missy says, "I didn't do dat, George did."

And Dadda says, "Knock it off, Lord Fauntleroy."

So I don't know who he's talking to, so I *thump* again, anna Dawg tries to sneak outta da Bun Room while he's still cobbered in SNOW, becos nobun is paying 'tention to him.

But ob course Dadda sees him anna trail ob muddy foots-prints, and calls him back.

So Dadda gets a towel and wipes offa Dawg. It's wike Maman says: Da Dawg knows dat its SNOWING on his hed, but becos his coat is so fick (kinda like his head) he's not so sure whut's happining toda rest ob his body.

So den dis morning, we bunnies are up and rummaging quietly around in our hay before Light, and there's this Big Flash anna Loud *BANG*.

Which preddy much s'sprised Alla Us Togedder. Beebe, Mouse and I bounced up inna air, and alla us landed wiffa *THUMP* which is whut boy-bunnies is s'sposed to do to warn da Warren ob DANGER.

And den Dadda comes out frumma bedroom wiffa Dawg and Cokie-da-Fat-Cat ambling on behind (cos dis is whut dey do whin dere is DANGER - and they leave Maman inna bed in her nitegown) and Dadda is in Bare Feets, and tying on his Bafrobe.

And just as Dadda hassa wook outta Bun Room Our Warren Memorial Window, dere issa'nudder Big Flash anna'nudder Loud *BANG* and Dadda says, "Heh. Thunder?"

And Maman calls out frumma bedroom, "Yes, when it's a bad SNOW storm, we have thunder with it. Now it's really going to SNOW hard."

And suddenly Da Dawg wooks up and whines, "My Gardin!"

And Mouse is wike, "Whut about it?"

Anna Dawg goes, "Alla MARKS are gonna be gone! No udder dawgs are gonna know its MY GARDIN!"

And I'm wike, "Lookit, Dawg, enny udder Dawgs dat is out in dis wedder is poor, wost dawgs dat gots no homes."

Anna Dawg whines, "You don't unnerstand, George Bunny! I gotta nekkid gardin! It's out dere wif NO MARKS onnit! Oh crap,ohcrap, ohcrapohcrapohcrap!"

And Cokie-da-Fat-Cat says, "If you godda go dat bad, den use da pooty-box. Dadda put one down heer onna'count obba stoopit Munchkin-kitten being uppastairs using Beep's and mine."

Anna Dawg begins making his Peeping Sound at Dadda, which issa Sound dat he makes when he needs to go Outside.

So Dadda, who doesn't know da werds, but unnerstands da Sound, opins da Big Back Door.

Well, he barely gets a chance to opin da Screen Door, but Da Dawg shoots out innu an hextplosion ob SNOW. And I DO mean an HEXTPLOSION.

Onna'count obba fakt dat suddenly, dere is SNOW coming in ebberywheres.

And we're not talking da big, fat useless flakes, eidder, we're talking dose small, business-wike flakes ob SNOW dat spell a-c-c-u-m-u-l-a-t-i-o-n when you pile dem all up. And they have been piling uppa'gainst da Back Door all nite long, until they've made a small wall ob SNOW fru which Da Dawg ploughed at High Speeds.

And dere is now wind, too. Lots of wind dat is blowing in frumma same direction as Our Warren's Memorial Window, which is the same direction as the Big Back Door. Which means when the door opens, it's coming directly innu Da Bun Room.

So I'm tail-uppa'gainst-da-pootie-box, yelling, "Shut da Door, Dadda!"

And Missy's shouting, "Shutta'door!" wif her ears standing straight out frum her hed, and Clover's next in line with the snow is blowing all over her and Beebe, who she has tucked unner'neaf ob her elbow, and she's hollering, "Close da door!" While ober in his corner, away frumma draft, Mouse is just calling out on Gen'ral Principles that it's "COLD! COLD! COLD!" and *THUMPING* for all he's worth.

So Dadda, seeing alla dis snow flying and alla dis wind blowing, tries to shutta Big Door, but da Big Door won't shut.

And dis is onna'count obba fakt dat Cokie-da-Fat-Cat had sort ob sidled his way behind Da Dawg and was trying to see whut was happining onna udder side obba door, which is to say, outside where it is SNOWING.

So he's kinda stuck between da Screen Door anna Dig Door and he's getting squeezed by Dadda pushing onna Big Door.

So Dadda reaches down and shubs Cokie outta-da-way anna Cat goes sliding unnerneaf ob Missy and my habbytat and Dadda slams da door.


Dadda says a lotta bad werds and goes off to make a cuppa'tee inna Kitchin.

Well, now da Cat is Upset cos he got pushed outta da way and hadda go sliding. So Missy and I hear a sorta *grunt* anna Fat-Cat marches out frum unner'neaf obba our habbytat and his face is grim, lemme tell you.

And he goes marching along ober da Bun Room floor, and out innu da Kitchin where Dadda has just poured Maman a cuppa'coffee and den poured sum boiling wadder for his cuppa'tee. And just as Dadda is adding in his tee'bag, Cokie-da-Fat-Cat comes marching along, and plops down beside him and sinks his frunt claws innu da tops ob Dadda's bare foots.

Well, Dadda sort ob jumps up and comes down wiffa *THUMP* anna tee'bag goes *PLOP* innu Maman's cuppa'coffee, and there it sits, bobbing around for a minit, while Dadda rubs his foot, while Cokie marches off towards da bedroom.

And Dadda yells, "You BUGGER!"

And Cokie keeps marching, and Maman calls out frumma bedroom, "Who's a bugger?"

And just den, dere's a *FUMP* frum outside obba Back Door, and that's Da Dawg, trying to get back inside.

So Dadda hobbles innu da Bun Room and pulls opin da Back Doors, and in tumbles Da Dawg, and he's cobbered wif SNOW and he's all hextcited and his tongue is hanging out, and he's wagging all ober da place.

"I marked da yard! I marked da yard! It's mine! It's mine! Wanna see? Wanna see?"

And den he shakes, all over.

And Dadda grabs da towel to dry him off, but its too late - ebberyfing is spattered in wet: da floor, da habbytats, da walls, da bunnies, Dadda's feets, Dadda's legs - just ebberyfing.

And now Missy and I are butt-first inna pootie-box, and I got my eyes closed against da snow flying all ober, and Missy has her ears down, trying to keep da flying wadder outta her hed.

And Maman wanders out frumma bedroom innu da Bun Room in her nitegown, wif her bafrobe all wrapped around her, takes a wook outta da Our Warren Memorial Window and says,

"Wook at alla SNOW! Isn't it beautiful?"

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

Posted by Our Warren at 8:41 AM EST
Thursday, 9 February 2006
George's Second Strand; Day Number Nine
Now Playing: The Great Tommy Tucker Bunderground
Topic: Da Lore

Dis is part obba Lore dat I learned frum me, Hunny, who wassa Oldest (he was thirteen anna half years old!) and Wisest ob alla Bunnies ob Our Warren before he passed away toda Rainbow Bridge a little over a year ago.

Me, Hunny told me as much obba Lore as he thought I could hold, so that I when I grew 'Tellygint, I could pass it along to alla udder bunnies I know, so dat bunnies ebberywhere could know dat we habba Past dat leads us innu da Future, (which is whut me, Hunny sed).

Now I am not Fully 'Tellygint onna'count obba fakt that I am still a Youngbun who is trying to Grow 'Tellygin (because bunnies do not grow old), but I am going to pass along This Part obba Lore, so udders can know it and pass it along, too.

So dis is The Lore: The Great Tommy Tucker Bunderground (as told to me by me, Hunny *Senior Bun* of Our Warren).

Now, Our Auntie Grace is the United States Army-Ob-One Senior Master Bunny Person.

And one day inna Summer when she was in Bis-con-Sin, wearing her Army uniform, she went into a Pet Shop.

Ordinarily, Auntie Grace doesn't go into Pet Shops, because she can't stand to see poor homeless bunnies "For Sale", OnAlone, wiffoud ennybunny to care for, or ennybunny to care for them. It breaks her heart, because she knows that even if she buys alla poor homeless bunnies inna Pet Shop and gives them a home in The Herd, the Evil Pet Shop Owners will just go to Horrible Br**d*rs and buy MORE homeless baby bunnies, taked frum their mawmies and all OnAlone, to sell inna Pet Shops, inna Never-Ending Cycle-of-Misery.

But this day, *Something* made Auntie Grace go innu the Pet Store.

And there, onna shelf, way up high, and almost out of sight, inna teeny, tiny cage, wassa scared little bunny.

And alla way there, crouched onna floor down below, was a little, small student Girl Frum Japan. And she was crying her eyes out and weeping softly, "To-ma-sai! To-ma-sai!" over and over and over into her hands.

Well, Auntie Grace doesn't speak Japanese, but she does speak "Young Girl Crying Her Eyes Out" onna'count obba fact that she has five childrens ob her own. So she grabbed da Evil Pet Store Owner and axt him "Whuttaheck is going on heer?"

And since Auntie Grace is about six foots tall and has red hair anna Army uniform, da Evil Pet Shop Owner had no problems telling her datta Student Girl Frum Japan had brought the bunny dat was inna cage onna high-up shelf in because her landlord had told her she had no choice but to "get rid of it" or else she would hab no place to live.

Well, dat made Auntie Grace mad.

So she went ober toda Student Girl Frum Japan and told her dat she, Auntie Grace, had house-bunnies dat she loved berry much, and dat she would take da Student Girl's bunny and gib him a home wif her bunnies. Sumhow.

Da Student Girl Frum Japan was still crying, but happy tears now, and she was clinging to Auntie Grace's hand and saying "To-ma-sai, To-ma-sai" over and over, and pointing toda bunny onna high-up shelf.

And den Auntie Grace figgered it out: The bunny's name was "Tommy".

The Student Girl Frum Japan finally smiled: Tommy was her First Friend in the United States and she had been crying because she was afraid for her friend.

So Auntie Grace explained as best she could about her own five kids, and about alla bunnies in The Herd and the Girl Frum Japan unnerstood that her First Friend Tommy was going to live in a good home and never be OnAlone again.

But how does sumone wif five kids and ten bunnies find room for anudder bunny inna'partment?

Da Evil Pet Shop Owner didn't ebben let Auntie Grace have the Evil Little Cage dat poor Tommy was inhabiting onna high-up shelf inna Pet Shop.

So wiffa bunny under her arm, Auntie Grace set off in her Army uniform to get stuff to make Tommy a habbytat.

But when she got home there was no room for an extry habbytat! So Auntie Grace, bemembering her promise toda Student Girl Frum Japan, hopped onto the 'puter, on to PetBunny and told Tommy's Story to EbberyBunny there.

And Auntie Laura Tucker said, "I have room for Tommy wiffa BunTuckers!"

And Auntie Grace knew Auntie Laura frum more than just PetBunny, so she said, "Hokay, Laura, let's go!"

But The BunTuckers were in Noo Yawk State, and The Herd was in Bis-Con-Sin - a berry loooooong way and menny, menny miles apart!

So Whut-to-do wif Tommy?

Organise a Bunderground!

Now a Bunderground issa way ob moving bunnies frum one home to anudder. But bunnies don't travel well, and when dey do, most obba time they aren't allowed on airplanes, and even if they are, they have to ride OnAlone which is just too frightening! A bunny can die while travelling.

So Bundergrounds are like a chain of bunny-friendly hoomins who organise and move a bunny from place to place, frum hand to hand, taking care obba bunny like their very own bunny onna bunny's way frum Here to There. It takes time, coordination, munny, anna lotta effort to get it right. And there is no room for errors, because there is only One Chance onna Bunderground to get it right!

So Auntie Grace knew she hadda trip forda United States Army to fly frum Bis-Con-Sin to Washington-DC.

Well, dat would get Tommy fromma MidWest toda East Coast.

And that would be da Furst Part obba Bunderground.

The Second Part would be Auntie Grace getting a car frum sumplace and driving Tommy uppa InnerState to Virginia.

Now Auntie Grace was aware that she was rilly s'sposed to be travelling forda United States Army and dat they might not like alla this flying and driving around forda sake obba bunny, but Auntie Grace has her pri-or-it-tees: life comes furst, and Tommy wassa Life. Her motto is: NoBun Left Behind. So she was just gonna fly and drive Tommy onna Bunderground and den tell abouddit aftawards. (Maman calls dis "fate-akomplee".)

We at Our Warren just call it "smart".

Ennyways, Auntie Jane and Uncle Tom sed they could drive down to Virginia and pick up Tommy frum Auntie Grace and he could stay ober nite at their house, atta JT Warren. Then they would drive Tommy uppa Turnpike.

But sumbun hadda get Tommy atta Harrisburg End Obba Pennsylvania Turnpike.

So Phil-da-Lad frum Our Warren sed he would.

Which was innerestin', Maman sed, onna'count obba fakt that Phil-da-Lad had only just got his license to drive a car and had never driven onna "Northeast Extension" obba "Pennsylvania Turnpike" in his whole life before. And as Maman sed, that wasn't a drive for beginners, not to mention da fakt dat Phil has no "Sense ob Direction" and can't find his backside with both hands and a road-map.

On top ob that, he didn't habba car ob his own.
And he wasn't exactly a member ob PetBunny ennyhows, but was just reading Maman's account and commenting, as ushual.

So, ob course, Maman found out abouddit, and ob course, she said she and Phil-the-Lad would go along onna Bunderground, and they would meet Auntie Jane and Uncle Tom at Harrisburg and drive Tommy up the "Northeast Extension" to meet Auntie Laurie Garner and her husbun atta National Train Museum in Scranton, Pennsylvania, so that Auntie Laurie and her husbun could take Tommy on his way to Auntie Laura anna BunTuckers in Noo Yawk State.

And that is whut happined.

And afta Auntie Laurie Garner and her husbun taked Tommy, they drove him to Auntie Laura Tucker, who drove him BACK to The BunTuckers, which was his Noo Home.

But there was *sumfing* aboudda Great Tommy Tucker Bunderground dat made it dif'frunt frum alla udder Bundergrounds that have ebber taken place or ebber will take place:

Onna day dat Auntie Grace handed Tommy ober to Auntie Jane and Uncle Tom, she dribed backfru Virginia and fru Maryland to Washington-DC. And Auntie Jane and Uncle Tom drove Tommy fru Virginia, and back to Pennsylvania to the JT Warren.

And dat nite, they all went to bed.

And the nextest day was s'sposed to be a REST DAY for Tommy, and for Auntie Grace, and for Auntie Jane and Uncle Tom, and Maman and Phil-the-Lad, and Auntie Laurie Garner and her husbun, and Auntie Laura Tucker and alla The BunTuckers.

And when ebberybun awoke that day, September 11, 2001.

And nothing was ebber da same for ennybunny ebber again again.

And that's Da Lore concerning The Great Tommy Tucker Bunderground.

-------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 2:31 PM EST
Tuesday, 7 February 2006
Goerge's Second Strand; Day Number Seven
Mood:  sad
Now Playing: Da Rite Fing...

Uh oh.

Whut a mess!

This is bad, lemme tell you!

Phil-the-Lad and Alanna, his almost bond-mate, came to Our Warren again the udder day, and this time they brought a Cat wif them.

Now, this would not bodder Our Warren assa rool, onna'count obba fakt dat Belinda Bunny and me, Hunny hab sed, a long, long time ago, so that it is inna Lore for ebberybunny to Bemember: Alla Us Togedder, NoBunny OnAlone!

And Belinda blogged about this, and I have, too, so ebberybunny knows Whut Ebbery Werd Ob This Means To Alla Us Togedder at Our Warren.

Now, we heer at Our Warren already gots two Catz (which are not our fault. Beffy, who is Our Sistah leebed them with us a long time ago to live heer): Cokie-da-Fat-Cat who issa Leader Ob Our Chowda, and Beeb who issa nice, quiet, Senior gurl-cat, anna udder Member ob Our Chowda.

Two Catz is Enuf for Ebberybunny, inklooding Da Dawg who is not a Cat, but who spends a lot ob time herding Catz around the House, frum this room to that room. Because Herding is his Job, and Border Collies hab to hab A Job, and this is his.

Cokie can't be herded, ob course, onna'count obba fakt that he is very BIG, and IMPORTANT and just generally In Charge Ob Ebberyfing, and hassa habit ob NOT LISTENING to ennybunny 'cept Dadda, and that only whin he feels like it.

Beep, onna-udder-paw, is quiet, likes to be herded, and complains to Dadda whenebber Da Dawg is outside inna Back Garden. Dadda finks she likes Da Dawg to herd her because she is not-so-big as Cokie, and she uses Da Dawg assa shield so she can get her share obba food, sunbeams and udder stuff dat Catz like, but don't tend to share.


Phil-da-Lad brings this Noo Cat with him and Alanna. The Noo Cat has been heer before, and she is tiny and young and her name is Munchkin, only Maman calls her Mischief onna'count obba fakt dat she is causing SO MUCH TRUBBLE!

It is ALL onna'count obba fakt dat Munchkin/Mischief doesn't like Beep, and she doesn't like Da Dawg and she doesn't like Cokie-da-Fat-Cat. She doesn't like it that in Our Warren THEY are the Cats Who Are Heer Furst and She Is Not.

And I don't fink she ebben likes Bunnies, eidder.

Mebbe she just doesn't like ennyfing, inclooding herself.

I dunno.


She (Munchkin/Mischief) came innu da Bun Room Last Nite saying dat Beep was piking on her.

And I'm finking, "Beep?"

And Missy is, wike, "Oh Yeah?"

And so Munchkin/Mischief says, "Yeah. I was being a Good Cat, and just like allus that back-stabbing BEEP comes up and gets me in trubble!"

And Missy's ears start going up, onna'count ob she's starting to fink she's going to Disapprove. And Missy says, "How'd Dat happin?"

And Munchkin/Mischief says, "Dat BEEP said I ate alla her food."

And Missy's ears went up some more, and she axts, "Well, did you eat alla her food?"

And Munchkin/Mischief says, "Well, you see, when I was inna shelter there wasn't ebber enuf to eat, so I learned that I had to eat as much as I could, because, you see, I'm a 'peshul DWARF KITTY but nokitty realised it, but I needed alla food before the others took it. So of course, I had to had to eat it as soon as I saw it. I tried to apologise to that Beep-Cat, but she just looked at me, blinked and said she understood and THEN SHE WALKED AWAY LIKE SHE DIDN'T CARE! But of course she doesn't unnerstand ennyfing AT ALL because she's just high-class, rich, common, *lucky* cat and not a DWARF CAT like I am! And it's so TERRYBUL to be unforgiven and to allus be blamed like that and all for just being ME!"

And I'm like, well, you know, feeling bad that a cat hasta feel bad, cos NOBUNNY in Our Warren should feel that they are OnAlone! (Belinda Bunny teached me that!)

So I says, "Well, Beep issa preddy cat, and she has been heer a long time. And she is very kind. Meebe you can get along wif her."

And Munchkin/Mischief says, "Oh but I tried! I tried! And she is nice to your face and then just turns around and tells Maman she has No Food! You don't know Beep! I'm the nicest cat I know, and the peacefullest cat I know, and the prettiest cat I know! Why, inna shelter, ebbery hoomin wanted to 'dopt me, onna'count obba fakt dat I amma DWARF CAT and am SPECIAL, but Beep just doesn't SEE that, does she? She isn't ennyfing SPECIAL herself, but I amma SPECIAL Dwarf Cat that ebbery hoomin wants to own. There are just so few ob us inna werld and ebbery hoomin wants one."

And I says, "Ebberybunny's 'peshul. That's whut makes us all equal."

And Munchkin/Mischief wooks at me and narrows her eyes and says, "Well Some of us cats are MORE EQUAL than udders!. And that Beep Cat is just HORRYBUL, going and telling Maman that she has no food!"

And Ms CloverBun looks over and says, "If you're so extry 'peshul onna'count obba fakt dat you are this 'speshul 'Dwarf Cat' that ebbery hoomin wants, then how come you were inna shelter inna furst place?"

And Munchkin/Mischief looks at Ms Clover and yeowls, "You're on Beep's side! I've had da hardest life! I was abandoned, and inna shelter, but I'm a VERY RARE KITTY! You just don't unnerstand!"

And I was trying to show her dat I unnerstood and all, so I started to tell her about how I was left inna box atta V-E-Ts, but Munchkin/Mischief didn't gimme time. She just went on-and-on:

"Nobunny unnerstands how hard it is to be small, and rare and 'peshul, and how hard it is to nebber fit in ennywheres! And Beep is such a fat, old, common Calico kitty who finks says she has this and that, but she doesn't tell whut she is like *I* do! And she's heer with alla her stuff and privilages and she's picking on me! And she'll pick on you, too!"

And Ms Clover is, like, *snort*, "Whut? Nobunny picks on bunnies heer! Bunnies rool."

"She will!" Yells Munchkin/Mischief. "She will! And she'll attack you behind your back. Just like George does in his Blog!"

And suddenly, ebberybunny's looking at ME.

And I'm like, whutdaheck?

Anna Dawg is looking at me and he's like, "Whoa, George! Is you 'tacking me?"

And so I'm, like, "Whoa."

And Cokie-da-Fat-Cat comes ambling in, cos that's how he walks, and he says, "George, whut hab you been doing behind backs?"

And I'm like, "I just type about Our Warren."

"Onna'count ob why?" Axts MissyBun, and now her ears are rilly standing out, and she's looking rilly like a Disapproving Rabbit. "Are you telling fings about me?"

So, wike, whut can I say? Of course I am telling about MissyBun, onna'count ob she is My Big, Bee-You-Tee-Ful Wife-Bun, and she issa Big Part ob Our Warren.

But her ears is standing out frum her hed, and she's got her Disapproving Rabbit Look on.

And I know I am in Big Trubble Now. And I habbin't ebben done ennyfing Wrong.

It's just dat Munchkin/Mischief has sort ob put da thought in ebberybunny's hed, and now is walking around and around, purring.

Anna Dawg says, "Are you rilly, rilly typin' behind our backs?"

And I'm like, Whutdaheck?

Ebberybunny knows I type inna Blog. Ebberybunny has knowed aboudda The Hay Diaries ebber since Belinda Bunny became the Furst Rabbit Ebber to habba Personal OnLine Diary ob her very own. And I thought dey bemembered that when Belinda went toda Rainbow Bridge, and nobunny wanted to continue inna diary Belinda pioneered, dat I stepped forward becos nobunny else wuld and just "did it".

Not onna'count ob *I* wanted ennyfing, 'cept to do whut wassa Rite Fing.

So I go innu a corner obba pootie box to fink aboud how alla this stuff got so screwed up in so short a time, just by Munchkin/Mischief showing up and start talking about herself.

And whut I fink is dis: Memory issa berry short fing, and mainly made up ob what udders want to be bemembered, and not whut rilly happins.

And Munchkin/Mischief says, "Mebbe sumbun else shuld take ober dat blog. I *wuld* but I wuld be told not to cos I amma Cat."

And Mouse says, "Well, I wouldn't want to make George feel bad, but I suppose I could take over The Hay Diaries if you all feel he's doing such a not-so-good job with his typing and can't be trusted."

And I'm finking, I didn't wanna hab dis Blog inna beginning, but I kinda hab grown to like it. Maman says I'm good at blogging, even if she doesn't allus let me have the 'puter when I need it. And now, suddenly, somefing nobun wanted, somebun else wants taken away.

And trust me? Since when can't I be trusted? And now I'm feeling sad. Not angry, just sad.

And OnAlone.


Whut Rilly Happins is whut's called HISTORY and it goes innu Da Lore, and only a few rilly, rilly ebber care about Da Lore, me, Hunny told me. But he also sed dat sumbun hasta keep Da Lore so dat sumday,

"The Troof will win out."


And just then, Beep came through, like she ushually does, rilly quiet, not saying much, looking for hay.

Anna Dawg, following her on rilly close says, "No Catz Inna Bun Room!"

And Beeb says, rilly quiet-like, "Hey, ebberybun! Hullo bunnies! Hullo, Dawg! Can't stay, gotta go!"

And just like dat, she was gone.

And unlike Beep Munchkin/Mischief is still inna Bun Room, purring away.

And afta a minute Mouse says to ebberybun, "Well, you know, Beep doesn't Frunt. She's REAL and did ennybunny notice? She just came innu heer to say "Hullo" - she didn't come heer to talk about herself or to complain about sumbun else, or to say stuff dat (when you fink about it) is rilly stoopit, wike, 'I Amma Dwarf Cat' or 'George can't be trusted.'"

And he looks at Munchkin/Mischief.

And den Missy's ears starts going down and she starts looking more like Missy and less like she's gonna take off and fly, and she says to me,

"Well, you hab been typin' Belinda's Blog for awhile now. We allus knowed this, and not cos you talks about it, but onna'count of we knows it. We know whut you are and who you are, and we know where you come frum, ebben though you aren't allus beminding us."

"And," chimes in Ms Clover, "He can't be typin' beind our backs if we can be reading it right in frunt ob our eyes."

"So how," Axts Beebe, "Can sumbun who is doing the Rite Fing hab so menny udders belieb da Wrong Stuff about them?"

"Dis didn't hab to happin." Says Ms Clover. "It's Stoopit anna waste ob time."

And Missy wooks at Munchkin/Mischief and her ears go up and stand out straight frum her hed, so she has on her Disapproving Rabbit Look and she says, "It's easy - it's onna'count obba fakt dat somebun Frunts. Somebun Lies. AND that somebun issa CAT!"

And me, who is sitting ober onna pootie box, well, I'm finking ob dis Buk that Maman and I read togedder inna Sitting Room. And In This Buk (by this guy named "Terry Pratchett") it says:

"A Lie can race around the world seven times before the Truth can even pull its boots on."

------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:59 AM EST
Monday, 6 February 2006
George's Second Strand; Day Number Six
Now Playing: Disapproving Rabbits

Well, Maman and I hadda long talk.

Seems there is gonna be a Pet Sitter in Our Warren's future.

Maman says this is necessary onna'count ob Belinda Bunny, so I guess it's going to be Hokay, but I am not sure.

It seems to me that there are a lotta fings that are "onna'count ob Belinda Bunny", you know?

The whole reason there issa camera dat was boughted.
The whole reason why there issa whole "Blog" fing.
The whole reason why Dadda and Maman bringed me home frumma vet's.
The whole reason why we're gonna hab Pet Sitters, mebbe...

I just don't get it.

But if that's why, then I don't see how I can mind.

Cos good fings seem to come frum Belinda Bunny habbin' been heer, but she sure wassa High Intensity Rabbit.

Dadda sed last nite dat Belinda Disapproved ob Ebberyfing. Where Missy finks about stuff and den Disapproves, Belinda would just give a "look" and he kinda knew she Disapproved On Principle. Belinda didn't even hab to fink abouddit, she would just gib him dat "Look" and he knew, right there and then, that she wassa Disapproving Rabbit.

Onna udder paw, Missy hears sumfing, den sits like a hen, and then her ears begin to rise, furst one ear, then the other. Dadda says that you can get knocked ober inna breeze that Missy raises when she finks, whut wif her ears waving up-and-down. And when she finally gets her ears to be standing out straight, well, then you can see its dawned on her to be a Disapproving Rabbit.

Maman says that ebberybun should habba Disapproving Rabbit in their lives to keep them honest.

So I looked around this morning for something to Disapprove of. I fink it must be part ob Growing 'Tellygint, you know?

Belinda wassa very 'Tellygint Rabbit, and she Disapproved of Ebberyfing, so I need to find fings to Disapprove Of.

Well, I find that I Disapproved obba Catz for a few minutes.
And then I Disapproved obba Dawg for a second there when he went outta Back Door Innu Da Gardin and let in Cold Air.
I probably didn't Disapprove ob my Meddysin enough, but that was because I gotta lotta pets and Maman kissed my nose and I got cuddles, and told whut a Good George I am. (And this is TROO - I am a VERY Good George!)

But that's all I can find!

I mean, there's nothing left for me to Disapprove Of.

I don't know where Belinda found alla stuff to Disapprove Of!

Mebbe I just need to grow more 'Tellygint.

Missy is preddy sure that when I grow more 'Tellygint, I'll find lots more fings about which to Disapprove. She says its hard, and that's why she hasta flap her ears and fink so much, dat you just don't become a Disapproving Rabbit wike Belinda Bunny overnight; you gotta WERK at it.

But Alla Us Togedder heer at Our Warren agree: this Pet Sitter fing has possibilities.

We could, Alla Us Togedder, get rily Disapproving over this one!

-------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 8:36 AM EST
Sunday, 5 February 2006
George's Second Strand, Day Number 5
Now Playing: SNEEZLES! Meddysin!


And I rilly, rilly mean, WHOA!

Maman taked Beebe to see Doctor Sharin onna'count obba fakt dat he hassa sneezles.


He sits inna Habbytat and onna'count ob nuffin', he starts to sneeze, and he sorta bounces up-and-down, and blows backward and stuff, and sometimes this sorta mess comes outta his nose.

And then Clover rushes over and cleans him up.

It's whut she does, onna'count ob her being his bonded-wife-bun and the fakt that she issa neat-freak. Beebe-Bunny is wunna da cleenest bunnies on earth, lemme tell you!

So Maman and Dadda were upset aboud Beebe habbin' these sneezles and they taked him to see Doctor Sharin.

Now Doctor Sharin usta habba office that was rilly, rilly close to Our Warren.

And then she didn't.

And now we hafta ride a long time inna carrier inna car in order to get there.

Missy says it is horrybul: Dadda says bad werds and Maman tells Dadda dat he is following udder cars too close, and then Dadda tells Maman that she hasta not tell him aboud stuff wike dat ennymores!, and then they gets lost, and Dadda gets cranky and Maman gets cranky and they drink wadder outta boddles and keep yelling innu da back seat to MissyBun, hollaring, "It's hokay, MissyBun!" while she's back inna carrier rockin' and rollin' and trying to hold on while Dadda's busy geddin' lost.

And then they get to Doctor Sharin's.

And Beebe sed it wassa same whole fing wif him, too, and in fakt, if he haddn't known enny bedder, he'd hab sed that it was just the same trip inna car that Hunny and Belinda had told him about, that was to go to see Doktor Doolen atta Bunny Hospiddle!

And Clover sed, Yeah, That's Whut It Sounded Like To Her, Too.

But only she and Beebe and Missy are rilly old enuf to bemember Belinda and Hunny talkin' aboud going to see Doktor Doolen atta Bunny Hospiddle, and now that has passed on innnu Da Lore and I will have to learn alla'bout it.

So, ennyways, Doctor Sharin gave Beebe dis meddysin inna bottle called Baytril. And he hasta take it ebbery morning and ebbry nite.

So ebbery morning, and ebbery nite, Dadda hauls Beebe outta his and Clover's habbytat and Beebe dissapears innu da Kitchin.

And Beebe says Dadda sets him onna towel and den Maman squirts dis meddysin innu his mouf, and down his throat.

And he hasta swallow.

And it tastes BAD.

But Maman and Dadda, being Maman and Dadda, and being kind along wif being magnifisintly stoopit, try to shuv a raisin treat innu his mouf onna'count ob Beebe habbin' been such a Good Boy about *taking his meddysin*.


So you know dis isn't werking.

Well, ennyway.

Den da udder day, I was just sitting, and habbing a doze, and suddinly, alla'sudden, outta nowhere, comes this humongus sneeze!

And I bounce up inna-air, and Missy is wike, "Whutdaheckissamattawifyou?" and I blink, and wook-out, here-comes-anudder-one!

And den its like, I can't stop!

And I'm sneezing and bouncing and sneezing and bouncing and sneezing and bouncing and-sneezing-and-bouncing-and-oh-good-grif!-here-comes-Maman!

Well, you know, that did it.

Nextest fing I know, Maman's gotta tellyfone and she's saying, "Hello, Doctor Sharin?"

So that nite, Dadda went somewheres and came back with this boddle that said, "George Harper, Bunny" on it and just-like-that, I had my very own boddle of meddysin!

And I discovered whut happins inna kitchin, too, when Dadda piks you up, like Beebe, and takes you in there and sets you onna towel.

They clip your toenails!

Then Dadda holds you, and Maman pokes dis fing in your mouf, and den there's this awful-tasting stuff in your mouf that you gotta swallow and then Maman (get this!) tries to stuff a raisin innu your mouf!

She says Hunny usta "always lub to pouch his raisins afta his meddysin."


Well, dat's as may be, and dat's Hunny because it sure isn't George!

How menny times do I gotta tell her, "I don't want enny stoopit raisins!"?

Cos I don't.

And my sneezles are gone, by-da-way.

And I don't need enny more meddysin.

And I'm NOT me,Hunny!

I'm me, George and I'm geddin' rilly tired ob dis stuff!

--------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 2:14 PM EST
Friday, 27 January 2006
Geroge's 1st Strand; Day Number 27
Now Playing: Snap Outta It!


Maman is sik.

Dis is BAD! Lemme tell you!


Because Furst of all, she has a fever.
Second of all, she has aches.
Third of all, she can't consentrate.
Forth of all, she is TOO COLD
Fifth of all, she is TOO HOT
Sixth of all, she is complaining.
And Seventh of all, she and Dadda can't seem to figger out whutsamatta.

We thought they were smarter den this.


Missy and I knew on Tuesday nite dat sumfing was the matter with Maman. She was just miserable, but a whole lot more than normal.

And I sed to Missy dat Maman was cranky, and Missy sed, So?

And I sed, well, yeah, I only had got ONE pet the whole day and that wasn't Rite.

And Missy hadda fink and realised that I was right: we had only had ONE pet the whole day and Maman was acting stoopit and weird.

By Wednesday, she was acting RILLY weird and stayed in bed.

As Missy sed, someone should hold her down and give her Baytril, because it might be a good idea.

But no, Maman went right along the whole day, free to walk around the Houz in her Bafrobe and Sympathy Slippers.

And Dadda said she had "The Flu".


Well, we heer at Our Warren, realised that we had to go innu SURVIVAL MODE:

Mouse has not seen "Law & Order" in three days.
Cokie-da-Fat-Cat was caught sitting onna Bed.
Beep-da-Cat is eating Our Hay onna floor obba Bun Room.
Our Raisin Time is LATE.
Da Dawg says a Basset Hound has moved in nextest door. (I am not sure why this matters, but Da Dawg said it does, so I'm typing it.)

And Dadda is bringing meddysin, and making tea, turning uppa heat and axting Maman if she's "Hokay", which she isn't.

Onna'count of the fakt that she has "The Flu".

Which kind of makes you wonder why he keeps axting, since the answer isn't changing, and Maman keeps shuffling through the Houz in her Sympathy Slippers, dropping cups off inna sink and axting US why she feels so bad.

It's like, you know, How menny times do you gotta axt the same fing before you figger it out?


Whutebber dat is.

But Maman has it and as Missy has noted, its messing up our lives.

Now if we can just get dat point across to Maman and Dadda before they fortyget and come back, axting us again...

Maman has got "The Flu"!



We have established dat point, hokay? So let's find a way to get her to snap outta it!

Because fings around heer aren't looking so good.

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

Posted by Our Warren at 10:12 AM EST
Monday, 9 January 2006
George's 1st Strand; Day Numbur 9
Now Playing: Nobunny's Sleeping At Our Warren...

I am being yelled at.


MissyBun has been yelling at me since all last nite! And she's still at it.

Can you believe this stuff?

It's been terrybul, lemme tell you! So terrybul dat it kept Alla Us Togedder heer inna Bun Room anna rest ob Our Warren inclooding Maman and Dadda anna Dawg, awake all last nite.

And it's All Maman's and Dadda's FAULT, too!

I had nuffing to do wif dis!

But I got blamed.

Butta WERST PAWT is dat it is NEBBERgonna stop until Dadda geds himself back frumma pet store anna Bank anna rest ob his errands and he hassn't ebben left yet inna car to ged stawted onna errands yet!

Dis is NOT FAIR!

Lemme tell you...

Yestidday aftanoon, Dadda comed innu da Bun Room and he hassa wook at us and says to Maman (who is inna Kitchin):

"Wookit, you wanted to clean outta bunnies, so wet's do it now while we still can go outside onna nice day. I'll put Stoopit out."

So he opins uppa Back Door toda Back Gardin and IN comes sum not-too-cold-air and OUT goes Da Dawg at high speeds cos he finks he is chasing squirrels or sumfing.

Den Dadda opins uppa habbytats and stawts taking outta pooties pans.

And he takes da pootie pans outta Back Door, dumps dem sumwheres and brings dem back inside to Maman who hassa big jug ob Vinny-gar anna sink fulla Suds.

And Maman fills uppa pootie pans wif Vinny-gar, and den scrubs dem wif Scrubby Stuff and her green Scrubby Fing and den washes dem off inna Suds inna sink, and den sprays dem wif wadder. Den she gibs da pootie pans to Dadda and he wipes dem off wiffa Kitchin Roll Paper Towels.

And while dis produkshun is going on, MissyBun says to me, "Whoa. Dis issn't just cleaning uppa pootie pans, dis is RILLY Cleaning Uppa Pootie Pans! Byda time we gets dem back, dey will hab NO SMELL."

Well, NO SMELL is sumfing obba problem when you are a bunny. Fings hab got to hab SMELL so you know dat dey belong to you. Dis is a major reason why bunnies pee on fings, so dat dey habba SMELL. Dis is also why we gwoom and rub our chins on stuff - so dat dey also hab SMELL and we know which bunny fings belong to.

Bunnies fink wif dere noses, you know?

Fings dat hab NO SMELL are not owned, and inna Bunny Werld, fings hab to be owned.

Mainly by us.


And RILLY impawtant fings, wike pootie pans where your most impawtant fings, wike your most smelliest, most personal fings, wike pooties, hab to hab da most SMELL ob all. So when Maman takes away alla SMELL wif sumfing wike Vinney-gar, well, you can see how dis issa berry, berry, BERRY serrius matter.

So we each has got our own pootie pan inna habbytats.

Dere issa pootie pan for Missy.
Dere issa pootie pan for George.
Dere issa pootie pan for Beebe.
Dere issa pootie pan for Clover.
And dere issa pootie pan for Mr Mouse.

And if you don't rely on SMELL (becoms you are NOT a bunny) den you can identyfy dem wike dis:
Missy's pootie pan is purple and has mostly alla corners on it ('cept where Missy has grabbed it to toss it).
George's pootie pan is bloo and has two outta three corners (I ged bored easily).
Mr Mouse's pootie pan is bloo and hass frunt lip chewed off (Mouse has "anger isshoos", Maman says).
Clover's pootie pan is violet and has alla corners on it (she issa berry neat and tidy housebunny).
Beebe's pootie pan is bloo and is missing two outta three corners (Maman says Beebe just has "isshoos".)

So Dadda is bringing Maman da pootie pans and she is Scrubbing dem so dat dey hab NO SMELL, and den gibbing dem back to Dadda so he can fill dem wif stuff called "Yestidday's Noos" and gib dem back to us in our Habbytats.

And he gibs back Clover's pootie pan.
And he gibs back Mr Mouse's pootie pan.
And he gibs back Missy's pootie pan.
And he gibs back Beebe's pan and my pan - only sumfings wrong wif Beebe's pootie pan and my pootie pan.

Our pootie pans still got SMELL.

Too dang much SMELL.

In fact, dey STINKS

And Dadda says to Maman, "We'll hab to get George and Beebe tomorry, onna'count ob we hab run outta 'Yestidday's Noos'. I'll get anudder bag atta pet store cos I hab to go rite by dere onna way toda Bank. It won't be a Problem."

And I'm finking, "Problem for whom?"

Cos rite aboud now, I gotta BIG problem: MissyBun and I gots ONE pootie pan wif NO SMELL and one wif GEORGE SMELL.

And dis issn't rite.

But my pootie pan issn't cleen. In fakt, it STINKS. Not as much as Missy's stinked bifore Maman and Dadda cleened it out, cos I can't stink uppa pootie pan da way Missy can. (Whin it comes to producing pooties, Dadda says "Nobunny can beat Our Missy for converting hay innu pooties!" and dis is mainly troo, becos Our MissyBun is wun, big, be-yoo-ti-ful bunny gurl ob gen-er-us pro-por-shuns.)

Nuffin can stink quite da way Missy's pootie pan stinks and nobun can fill uppa pootie pan in as short a time as she can, lemme tell you! So my pootie pan didn't stink anywheres near as much as her pootie pan, but still, whin you compare my pootie-pan-not-cleaned to Missy's pootie-pan-clean, well, her pootie-pan-clean beated at heck outta mine.

So I hopped innu Missy's clean pootie pan and marked it.

And now it had SMELL.

Well, I was preddy content wif dat, but Missy just about lost her mind.

She was innu dat pootie pan wike a shot, peeing and pootying for all she was worf.

Anna whole time, she's yelling: "How dare you? How DARE YOU!"

And I'm wike, "Wookit, it had NO SMELL, so I gab it sum."

"But it's not MY SMELL! It's gotta hab MISSY SMELL!"

And I'm wike, well, you know, mistyfied, onna'count obba fact dat dis is OUR habbytat, and nobun else's, and it has OUR pootie pans innit, and nobun else's, and I don't see whutsa problem heer, you know? just onna'count ob bof pootie pans smelling ob GEORGE SMELL. Afta all, I lib heer, too.

But NO, MissyBun is habbin' a fit.

So she's innu da pootie pan whin Maman and Dadda come around wiffa hay anna food at nite, just bifore Bedtime, and she does come out obbit to ged her share obba Raisins (who wouldn't?), but she goes rite back innu da pootie pan as soon as she's grabbed as menny raisins as she can (inclooding dose dat she's grabbed outta my mouf!).

And Maman and Dadda turn offa Bun Room Light and say, "Nite, Bunnies!" and they turn offa Bun Room Light along wiffa lights inna rest obba house, and calla Dawg innu dere bedroom where Dadda has put down blankies soda Dawg hassa soft place to sleep onna'count obba Dawg also habbin' Arthuritis, wike Maman, only not so bad (he just limps a liddle; she falls ober and Dadda hasta pik her up) and dey go to bed so dey can sleep.

So ennyways, it geds preddy quiet inna house.

So I don't wanna go back in my pootie pan onna'count ob its not cleen, so I ged innu Missy's pootie pan wif her, cos it has GEORGE SMELL onnit, afta all.

And don'tcha know it?

Missy *FUMPS* wif her big back paddle-feets and becos I am smaller den she is and wedged in ennywheres, I bounce up inna air!

And just as my butt lands back inna pootie-pan, *FUMP*! - she does it again!

So I'm inna pootie pan, going upanddown for no partickular reason, 'cept dat Missy is mad aboud me being dere, and heer comes Maman in her white nitegown, wooking wike sum ghost-frum-Christmus-yet-to-come inna moonlight, axting, "Whuttsamatta wif my bunnies?"

And Mr Mouse takes wun wook at Maman and *FUMPS* cos he doesn't rekonize her wooking wike dis ghost wif her wong hair floating allaround. And just becos Mouse *FUMPS*, Clover *FUMPS* and dere goes Beebe up inna air, cos Clover has great big paddle-feets and da Beeb issa small-sized bunny compared to Clover.

And Beebe is wike, "YO! WHUTTAHECK?"

So Maman opins uppa habbytats and pets us all, inclooding me in Missy's pootie pan dat smells wike me, George.

Den she closes da habbytats and says, "Nite, Bunnies." and goes off to her and Dadda's bedroom.

And ebberyfing is all quiet for a minit, until Missy wooks ober and sees I'm still inna her pootie pan wif her.

So she lets out an ebben bigger *FUMMP* and I go flying sideways, outta da pootie pan and ends up onna habbytat floor. So I scrabble to my feets and try to ged back innu da pootie pan, but she's clogging uppa whole fing wif her big back end.

Well dis is whut she usta do whin I was a Widdle Babby Bunny and I did sumfing she didn't wike. She wuld chase me back innu my habbytat frum hers and den clog uppa hole I had chewed wif her big butt so I culdn't ged back innu her habbytat.

But I was a Widdle Babby Bunny den and I am not a Widdle Babby now.

Howebber, I am not stoopit.

So I left her a few "calling cards" inna frunt ob her pootie pan.

And she stuck her nose unner'neaf ob me, threw her hed back and tried a toss!

Well, lemme tell you, I am NOT a widdle babby bunny! She mite hab knocked me ober, but she didn't toss me.

So I scrambled to my feets, and Clover started to *FUMP* again.

And dis time, Dadda comed out innu da Bun Room and snaped onna light.

And cos we're all blinded byda bright light, we're just standing dere, blinking.

And Dadda says, "Whutsamatta wif you buggers?"

But we're just standing dere.

So he goes ober toda counter inna Kitchen, and puts wadder innu his tea-kettle and wooks around for a sekund, den geds sum bread frumm baskit Maman has onna conter nextest toda stove fing. And den he comes out innu da Bun Room again, and goes toda Big White Box and reaches in to ged dis block ob "cheese" stuff, and says to us:

"I'm feeling peckish alla a suddin. Dis is your fault."

And while we're trying to werk dat wun out, he says toda Dawg:

"Lookit, same bargin as bifore: I gib you a biscuit, you let me eat dis in peace."

Anna Dawg, who wasn't expecting ennyfing inna furst place, but was fulla hope aboudda cheese, cocks his hed on one side and says,


And eats da biscuit dat Dadda gibs to him and keeps on hoping aboudda cheese, cos Dawgs don't "do" bargins. At least, dats whutta Dawg says.

Den, just as Dadda goes to puttaway da cheese inna Big White Box, da Dawg prances ober toda Back Door and axts to go out innu da Back Gardin - cos ebbery time he eats sumfing, Dadda has trained him to axt to go outside, only Dadda doesn't realise he's trained da Dawg to do dis; he finks itssa Dawg's idea.

So Dadda unlocks da Back Door and IN comes a *whoosh* ob cold air (cos its deeps nite by now) and OUT goes Da Dawg (who doesn't rilly hab to go, but is doing dis cos he finks he hasta).

And Dadda goes back innu da bedroom.

So I go and rustle fru da hay, but Missy is so mad dat she starts tossing alla toys around inna habbytat. And dere is wun BIG toy dat makes a wotta noise. It has bells in, and so not only does it *bang* when its tossed, it *clangs*.

And preddy soon, we hear Dadda say a "Bad Werd" inna bedroom, and den we hear Maman say:

"Well you left Da Dawg outside."

And Dadda says, "No, Sweetheart, I'll ged him. I dunno why he allus hasta go out afta he eats."

And Maman says, "Nebber mind, dearest, da bunnies are making an uproar, so I'll getta Dawg."

And den bof ob dem pads out innu da Bun Room - Dadda in his bare feets and Maman wike da ghost-ob-Christmas-yet-to-come wif her white nite-gown and wong hair (and her balance isn't good, cos she's sort ob bouncing gently offa ebberyfing wike a pinball going slow).

So Dadda opins da Back Door and IN comes a *whoosh* ob cold air and INcomes Da Dawg (who was just sitting onna BackSteps, admiring da nite, and wondering whuttaheck he was doing out dere ennyways).

Anna Dawg snuffles Missy on his way by, and dat just makes her madder den she alreddy is, so she climbs innu da pootie pan and she's glaring wif her ears stuck out and her hed up inna air. So I try to ged innu da pootie pan wif her, but dere is her big butt taking up alla room again!

And Maman says to Dadda,

You know, I fink we've gotta problem."

And Dadda wooks around da Bun Room and den atta Dawg who has gone on fru da Bun Room and stopped atta Biscuit Cupboard inna Kitchin wiffa wook ob Hope written all ober his Collie-face, and Dadda says to Maman:

"Yeah, we got six obb'em. Whut's your point?"

And Maman says, "No, I fink dat we shuld hab cleaned out George's pootie pan when we cleaned out Missy's."

And Dadda says, "Well he'll just have to wait until I go toda pet store inna morning. We ran outta litter. We'll do his tomorry."

But Maman is wookin in our habbytat and she can see Missy okkypying da pootie pan and me sittin nextest to it, crammed in between Missy's clean pootie pan dat hassa GEORGE SMELL on it, and my not-clean pootie pan dat has too much GEORGE SMELL on it.

And Maman says, "I don't fink George can hold it dat long."

And Dadda comes ober to wook, too, and he sees Missy inna pootie pan and me not in it, and he points to MissyBun and says,

"Wook at dat fat bugalugs."

And Missy's hed comes up ebben furder and she glares at Dadda and snaps, "Who you calling 'bugalugs, pal?"

And Dadda adds, "Wook at her taking up alla space. Wike Prachett says, 'Dere is room atta top, and Missy is occupying alla it'."

And Missy brings bof ob her paddle-feets down hard inna pootie pan, and dere is dis shower ob 'Yestiday's Noos" dat comes flying up and goes all ober da pwace.

And Maman reaches in and pets me, and gibs me a cuddle and says,

"My poor widdle George. He doesn't have a pan to pee in!"

-------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:48 AM EST
Saturday, 7 January 2006
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:


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:


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

Posted by Our Warren at 10:39 AM EST
Sunday, 1 January 2006
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.


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

Posted by Our Warren at 9:21 AM EST
Saturday, 31 December 2005
George's 12th Strand, Day Numbur 31
Now Playing: Tradishun!

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.


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

Posted by Our Warren at 10:25 AM EST
Friday, 16 December 2005
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

Posted by Our Warren at 11:55 AM EST
Thursday, 15 December 2005
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
Wednesday, 14 December 2005
George's 12th Strand, Day Numbur 14
Now Playing: George's Christmas Story - Part I
Topic: Da Lore

Oncest Upon A Time...

There was a bunny named Belinda, who went to the Rainbow Bridge.

After all the happy meetings there, Belinda Bunny tried to settle down to waiting for the other bunnies to come from Our Warren.

Certainly The Meadow Beyond the Rainbow Bridge was pleasant. The grass grew just high enough for perfect binkies, and no matter how fast a bunny ran, or how high they jumped, or how erratic their course, The Meadow was always perfect for running. And the weather was always perfect, with regular sunshine and gentle, well-planned brief showers that refreshed and revived, with occasional bouts of thunder to toss in a little excitement. And then there was, of course, at least one snow-storm every now and then, which was always fun.

And there were the friends and sorely-missed bondmates that were now restored, like, dear, sweet Hawthorn, her blue-eyed white Holland-lop. He was here to sit with her again and to nudge her with his fuzzy flat head. Belinda had been secretly afraid she’d lost him when he'd gone on before her, and was delighted to have him back. The Power that watched over this Meadow place had cured the disfiguring cancer that had misaligned his little toofies, misshapen his dear little apple-shaped skull and finally extinguished his bright little life in the World Below.

And Willow was here! Silly Willow, the not-so-bright-but-always-loving, french-fry eating bunny who Maman had saved from a pet-store snake, was right here, paddling along on her huge feets, following right behind Belinda as she always had done before head-tilt had wrung her neck in the World Below.

Belinda saw so many bunnies who had come across the Bridge from the World Below, not just the special bunnies with whom she had shared Our Warren.

But although everything was perfect, it was not so perfect that an English Spot bunny could not think of ways to improve upon perfection.

So Belinda took to sitting at the very end of the Rainbow Bridge, next to a large rock, with her black ears pricked forward and her dark, intelligent eyes intent, staring off into the misty darkness that spanned the distance between the worlds.

Now at Christmastime, this curtain that separates the worlds wears very thin. The old year is passing; and the new year is yet to be in place, so here the curtain between the World Below and the World to Come is but the thinnest tissue. Not without reason do mortal beings tell of miracles, strange beings singing amongst the clouds of heaven, and animals who speak in the languages of men and angels on Christmas Eve. Here, where world touch and one breaks through into the other, is where those things that cannot be explained by human science or logic occur. Here are miracles and the genesis of faith, where human hope is born and where bunnies see with certainty free of the Sin of Adam.

So it was in late December (for so runs out the human calendar) that Belinda saw Hunny, the Elder of Our Warren, determine that the time had come for him to begin his journey to the Bridge.

And Belinda waited for him by the Rock at the End of the Bridge, with ears pricked, and eyes intent.

Hunny, oldest and wisest of the bunnies at Our Warren, was not afraid, she knew. He had been the rabbit who had counselled her to seek help in releasing her hold on life in the World Below in order to begin her own journey to the Rainbow Bridge. He had been able to see in Old Rabbit Dreams, the pathway to the Bridge, and how she must travel by night in order to arrive in the Light. It was because of his wisdom that she had been able to seek out Maman and Dadda in their bed, say good-bye to them there, and then leave with a peaceful heart.

But as she sat gazing toward the end of the Bridge where the curtain between life and Life was thinnest, she could see other bunnies, some of whom were struggling to leave for the safety of the Bridge, and not able, as she had not been able, to see that there was a Light that shown beyond the darkness that was enveloping them.

She remembered her life before coming to Our Warren.

On the Journey to the Bridge, one remembered so much.

And some of it was so horrible, that one ran, as fast as one could, from the overwhelming fear of those memories, driven by a terror so consuming that it blocked all sound except the beating of one’s own heart in one’s throat, and the thudding of one’s paws over the frozen ground. One ran, because that’s all you could do – out-run the on-rushing black cloud of memory; run until the lungs burned and the legs were weak with effort. Run, run, continue to run towards the faint, flickering glow that was the Bridge in the Distance.

Run from the wire cages, the filth, the empty water bottles, the rain, and the fright-filled night! Run from the cold, clean laboratories of torment and death! And run from the predators: the vicious humans with their dogs and their fire and their gas and their guns. Outrun hunger so vicious that a bunny alone in a cage in a cold and cheerless barn would gnaw its own paws in desperation. Outrun the countless acts of cruelty that the stronger visit upon the weak and voiceless because they can. Outrun the horror and the sadness. Outrun the silent cry of a hopeless, broken heart.

Run, because to stand still means to be overtaken by the memory of unhappiness so profound that there can be no expression beyond the scream that goes unheard in the wilderness of despair.

And that is the wasteland of memory that lies before the Bridge.

Belinda remembered it well.

“I can’t be habbin’ wif dis.” She muttered and shook her anvil-shaped head.

And yet, she knew it was what “had to be”, because without the pursuing terror of memory, bunnies might not find their way to the Rainbow Bridge, and once finding it, might hesitate to cross the Great Divide that the shining arch spanned. There had to be some impetus that drove them across and that impulse was the memory that bunnies share, of cruelty, abuse, and fear that is known only to those who are born into life as prey.

“But still,” Said Belinda. “I can’t be habbin’ wif dis.”

Because she had come to Our Warren in her third year of Life Below, and found herself in a house with Hunny and Maggie and Heatherington, and Phil-the-Lad and, of course, Maman.

There hadn’t been much in the way of what Maman called “munny” – which was something which was apparently needed to secure large amounts of hay and pellets and those lovely green veggytables; and there hadn’t been much in the way of “creetchur comforts”, but there was a lot of love. Belinda had gotten many, many pets, and had been given all kinds of things that, while they were very perplexing, were pleasant, indeed.

And in her great rabbit heart, she had learned to give these same perplexing but very pleasing things to other rabbits. Where Hunny, who was somewhat what Belinda called, “skatty”, sat and told stories and taught bunnies The Lore (that he said every bunny should know), Belinda set about making every bunny feel as secure and happy and as “at home” as she did.

So she nursed the sick, befriended the friendless, and most of all, welcomed the newly adopted and showed them the ways to get on in Our Warren.

Of course, there had been times when she’d had to have a few pootie wars to establish just who was “in charge,” but because she was an English Spot Bunny, and quite large with exceptional powers of digestion, she had prevailed in all of them. Even at the end, when she was terribly, terribly “sik”, and her pooties weren’t at all what they should have been and she had no idea why when she was chowing down three salads a day and all the treats she could fit her teeth around, she had still proved herself to be Top Bunny to that belligerent Netherlands Dwarf bunny named “Mouse”.

Well, what Belinda had done in the Life Below, she could certainly carry on doing here in the Life After.

If Terror drove bunnies over the Bridge, she could at least do what she did best and do something reassuring about their arrival at The Meadow.

Because The Meadow was safe.

That was important to let a new bunny know.


Race for your life.
Stay out ahead of the Terror.
Get to the Bridge.
You are SAFE!


But how to tell bunnies who were new to The Meadow this wonderful news?

So she settled into loaf position there beside the Rock at The End of the Bridge, and did what any English Spot bunny would do: she had a “fink”.

This lasted quite awhile.

And when the while had ended, Belinda Bunny stood up, stretched and yawned, and pricked her pointed black ears forward and narrowed her dark, intelligent eyes.

And then she hopped off to find Hawthorn.

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

To Be Continued Tomorrow…

Posted by Our Warren at 3:59 PM EST
Monday, 12 December 2005
George's 12th Strand, Day Numbur 12
Now Playing: George Begins His Christmas Story
Topic: Da Lore

Hullo agin and welcome toda Hollydays!

It is Tradishunal to tell stories atta Hollydays.

In fakt, da Winter issa most tradishunal time inna year for bunnies to sit togedder, keeping warm and telling each udder stories to pass da time, and to pass on Da Lore to each and ebberybun.

You will notice dat menny hoomins hab told wunnerful stories around dis same time, too, and prob'ly forda same reasons! But if you fink aboudd'it, hoomin writers wike Hans Christian Anderson and Charles Dickens hab left us stories to read during da Hollydays, and dere are lots of Myfs and Legends, stories aboudda udder Lore, dat are told during da Hollydays, dat we all, ebbery hoomin and ebberybun, bemembers well.

Ebben da werd "hollydays" hassa widdle story to tell aboud how it came to be a werd tied up to dees speshul days obba year.


Originally, da werd used to describe dis time ob year was Holy Days, only what wif a wotta use, and hoomins mis-hearing it and and saying it fast and all, it got shortened and slurred togedder so dat it comes out to be Hollydays which is preddy much hokay, becos a wong time ago in Inkwand (where Our Warren's Dadda was borned and where Our Maman usta lib) da hoomins dere usta fink dat da Holly Tree wassa berry speshul tree onna'count obba fakt dat it stays green inna Winter and doesn't drop its leaves like a reg'lar tree.

So "Hollydays" preddy much can cobber alla days around dis time, when sunshine is in short supply, anna nights are long and cold, and dere is wots ob time to sit close togedder to tell stories.

Becos dees days are Holy to menny hoomins, and dere issa wotta Holly around to dekorate and adda touch ob happy green stuff to please da eye and comfort da heart, ebben if you can't eat it - cos it beminds you dat Spring will come agin shortly and bring more green stuff which is tasty.

So I ahb been finking aboud stories, and abbouda Tradishuns ob Our Warren. And I realised dat we habbn't been habbing enny stories just now, mainly becos we don't hab Hunny heer wif us dis year.

Now Hunny wassa Elder Rabbit ob Our Warren.

And he left forda Rainbow Bridge on 5 January 2005, which is almost a year ago. And he was Not Afraid.

But he was heer to tell us stories at dis time wast year, and he was heer to tell me aboudda Lore bifore he left. Cos he sed, "Rabbits do not Grow Old, Babby George, we Grow 'Tellygint. And You, Babby George, are a Youngbun and you must grow 'Tellygint becos I amma Elder Bun and can't stay heer forebber. Sumbun is gonna hab to lern Da Lore and pass it on, and dat sumbun is gonna be you. Now hab sum hay anna nap, and den wisten."

And wun obba udder fings Hunny told me, was: "Knowing issa gift you share wif udders. You become 'Tellygint by sharing."

And Hunny wassa berry 'Tellygint bunny, cos he shared a lot wif me.

And becos ob Hunny, I am still trying to become 'Tellygint. So I will share whut I know, and mebbe, dat way, I will find out more. Cos Hunny sed, "You gib, you get."

And I, George, am going to try and carry onna Tradishun, just wike Hunny axted me to do.


It is cold outside, and dere is only a widdle bit ob sunshine and most ob it is filtered thru clouds and widdle bits ob snow, so we can all get close, Alla Us Togedder.

And heer is hay to hab (and dere is wots to share, just wike Hunny sed), so we can be comfortyable while I will tell you A Hollyday Story dat I hab been finking aboud alla da last few nights, dat I hab been putting togedder heer, inside ob my hed.

Anna story begins wike dis...

Oncest Upon A Time...

--------- By George

To Be Continued tomorrow...

Posted by Our Warren at 10:42 AM EST
Sunday, 4 December 2005
George's 12th Strand, Day Number 4
Now Playing: Outta Harm's Way

...And I'm Back.

Dis issa bizzy time heer at Our Warren. Yestidday, Maman and Dadda got out alla stuff frumma basemint and started to decorate da house.


Furst there wassa liddle problem, though.

Maman hassa special set ob liddle statues dat she calls da Nativity dat Bim (which is her Dadda) gived her her a long time ago. They are berry 'spensib, for one fing, and fora'nudder, well, they were a gift frum her Dadda dat she has carried wif her ebberywhere she has gone ober da years, so they are 'pecial to her.

Well, don'tcha know dat wun ob da statues gots brokin by da movers who moved Alla Us Togedder frumma Old House to dis House. It wass statue obba Shepherd-Boy Wiffa Liddle Lamb and becos it was brokin and hadda be glued and now would Nebber Be Da Same, Maman cried ober it a liddle.

And den she hadda fink ob sumwheres to put da Nativity
where it would be Outta Harm's Way.

Now Outta Harm's Way means dat sumfing is where it can't get hurted, messed up or udderwise screwed up by ennybun or ennyfing.

Dat's whut Maman sed.

Outta Harm's Way seems to me to mean dat sumfing is inna a place where it is safe frum getting smacked wiffa Dawg tail, getting knocked ober by a cat, or invistigated by a bunny.

Dat's whut I fink.

Cos Maman put dat Nativity on top obba curved-glass china closet inna Libbing Room where nobun 'cept Da Dawg issa'llowed to go, and ebben Da Dawg can only go dere if he is answering da Frunt Door (as is part ob his Job). Now sumtimes, Cokie-da-Fat-Cat sneaks innu Da Libbing Room in order to Sleep Inna Sunbeam, but mostly, Maman chases him out as soon assa sumbean has moved on, so you can see dat dat Room is preddy much "Off Limits" to ebberybun. She ebben chases Dadda outta dere when he wants a nap ("Dat's whut dey invented beds for." She says.) and she always chases Phil-da-Lad outta dere when he finks he's gonna sit down ("You want to play the piano, that's fine, but otherwise, you leave. That's why they invented Sitting Rooms." She says.)

So I got to finking about dis Outta Harm's Way stuff dat is going on, anna fakt dat Maman seemed to be creating a lotta places to be declared Outta Harm's Way alla sudden.

And Missy sed dat it is preddy much bizznezz as usual for Maman about dis time ob year, dat it is preddy much like when Poet used to build a nest in her and Hunny's habbytat ebbery year: It was stoopit (because Poet wasn't going to hab enny kits), and it caused a lotta fuss (mainly to Hunny, onna'count obba fakt dat Poet used mostly Hunny's butt fur, freshly pulled, to line da nest) and it was usually temporary (becos after a week or so, whenit occured to Poet dat she wasn't going to hab kits, she fortygoted aboutta nest and Maman would throw it away.). Poet builded nests, Missy says, and Maman nests da house. It all da same fing.

Missy sed it was more like Temporary Insanity den ennyfing else, and we would have to just wait it out.

And besides, as she pointed out, going into da Libbing Room is preddy useless atta best ob times, becos dere is nothing in the Libbing Room. It seems to be owned by a warren ob Rabbits Dat Hab No Smell, dat nebber move and dat don't tawk. So dere is not much point in going in dere ennyways.

So wast night, I was inna habbytat, waiting for my raisins.

And I mean, Raisins dat sweet treat, so wrinkly, so nice to eat. Ah, Raisins!: da berry light perfume dat lingers onna whiskers as soon assa lips touch da wrinkled surface, da lubbly pop between da toofies assa slightly tough skin gibs way to da tender, sugary sweetness inside! Raisins! Raisins! Raisins!

How I lub dem!

So I was doing my liddle circle dance, going round and round and round, and Dadda was laughing at me as round and round I went.

And I was dancing, dancing for the sheer Joy ob Raisins!


And Dadda put da Raisins in da bowl...

And I did a beautiful Rainbow Leap Binky, the lovely Arch Obba Raisin...(dat has been compared to a white streak ob lighting arching ober two points in space)...

And felt something wet hit my butt.

Well, these fings happen.

But a true Raisin Devotee cannot allow his artistry to be derailed by some water, you know?

So I sat dere, munching raisins, revelling in the sweetness (and pushing Missy's fat head outta the bowl - cos if you don't, she will scarf up alla dose raisins faster den a Hoover going full-bore) whin I feel my butt going up inna air - and I mean, it's cold habbin your butt lifted when it's wet wif alla dis Winter Cold coming inna Back Door frumma Dawg going in-and-out frumma Back Gardin!

And here's Dadda picking up my butt outta my wadder-dish and trying to wipe me off wiffa towel!

And I'm chewing raisins and finking, "Whutdaheck?" Wif my butt inna air.

Talk about being side-tracked!

And den, Dadda puts me down, and I can feel dat I'm preddy damp around da edges, so to speak, but you know, a bunny can do a bedder job ob cleaning and drying himself off den enny well-intentioned towel. So I go back to gedding my share obba Raisins - which wif Missy around, issn't going to last more den a few sekonds. Your Window Ob Oppertunity to get them with her around is preddy slim unless you are a RILLY fast eater or know how to pouch a bunch ob them innu your cheeks (Dis issa berry useful trick I learned to do frum Hunny who also hadda live wiffa berry large, beautiful, and over-all berry strong-minded and sucessful bunwife.).

And Dadda was wike, "George, slow down!"

And I'm not stopping to talk (becos dat will gib Missy more time to pick up the raisins) but I'm finking, "Whut are you, nuts?"

And he says to Maman, "Look at dat silly bunny. He jumped right into his water dish to get at those raisins and didn't even stop chewing while I picked him up and dried him off. What a pig!"

And sure enuf, Maman reaches innu da habbytat and moves da wadder crock ober. Den she looks down, and smiles and says,

"There. We should have done that before - poor little guy. Now at least the crock is Outta Harm's Way."

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

Posted by Our Warren at 9:42 AM EST
Thursday, 1 December 2005

Dadda: GEORGE!
Me: I didn't do it.
Me: Whut?

Cos heer is me, in my habbytat, doing nuffin, while Dadda is coming down frum uppystairs whereda conversayshun has been going sumfing wike dis:

Dadda: What?
Cokie: Yeowp
Dadda: No.
Cokie: Yeowp!
Dadda: I said, no.
Cokie: Yeowp!
Dadda: I told you, you'll get fed in an hour.
Cokie: Ah-merow.
Dadda: Okay, so now it's half-an-hour.
Cokie: Err-owow.
Dadda: If you don't get your claws out of me, I'm seriously going to contemplate playing "Whack-A-Mole" with your head.
Cokie: Mer-Owl!
Dadda: Shut up.
Cokie: Yeowl.
Dadda: Which part of "piss off" don't you understand?
Cokie: Mer-owl!
Beep: Meep.
Dadda: Where the hell did you come from, Madam?
Cokie: errrl.
Dadda: Will you two give it a rest?
Cokie: Wrrrl!
Dadda: I'm going to have a word with George. He's got you buggers all wound up. It's his Blog, isn't it? That's what's done it. A little publicity and now you lot expect me to pay attention to you. Well, shove off. Forget about it. You're not getting your dinners early. Do you hear me? I don't care how famous you are. Dinner will be served at the same time it's always served and not a moment before. Now go away and stop bothering me!
Cokie: Mer-umph. Yeowl.
Beep: Meep.
Dadda: Oh for goodness'....GEORGE!

And heer he comes.

Wiffa Cat and sumhow dis is sus'posed to be my fault.

And heer is Maman.

Maman: Whutsamatta with the Dawg?
Dadda: Whutduyamean, whuttsamatta with the Dawg?
Maman: He's standing at the top of the stairs.
Dadda: Why's he standing there?
Maman: That's what I'm asking you.
Dadda: I just let him out of the Study when I came down here.
Maman: Did you leave Beep up there?
Dadda: Yes...
Maman: Well, there you are then. He's waiting for his cat.
Dadda: But I'm going to take their food back upstairs to them. And if I let the Dawg back into the Study, he'll eat their dinners for them and I'll only have to chase him back down.
Maman: So why is Cokie down here?
Dadda: I don't know.
Cokie: Mer-owl.
Dadda: Shut up. Who asked you?

So ober in his habbytat, I hear Mouse saying: "It's now 9:57 and 'Law & Order' comes on in three minutes. If I'm not in that Sitting Room in three minutes..."

And Dadda looks ober at Mouse and says to Maman:
Dadda: Isn't it time for "Law & Order"?
Maman: Oh.
Dadda: Did you forget?
Maman: Perish the thought. Lemme get Mouse. No, wait, let me go turn on the television. Mouse fusses if he doesn't he hear the theme-song.
Dadda: He fusses when he hears the theme-song.
Maman: Either way, he fusses.
Cokie: YEOWL!
Dadda: You stepped on the fur on his tail.
Maman: Not on his tail, though, right?
Dadda: No, just on his fur.
Maman: Good. Lemme try again. Hey, Cokie!
Dadda: Well, that's done it. Now he's offended.
Maman: And that differs from before, how? Can you give me a hand pushing Mouse, please? Just a little bit this way, now rolllll, okay, okay, over the rug, bump, li'l bump and we got it and heeeer we are! That's a good little Mousie...lemme get his cereal...
Dadda: That's little Mouse-sky. Here we go...
Cokie: Yeowl!
Dadda: Sheesh, Cat, shut up. Yes, I know, I promised you.
Mouse: *Thump*
Maman: Yes, Mouse, we're coming!
George: *Thump*
Maman: Here's some raisins for sweetie MissyBun, my widdle Georgie-boy, anna Clover-gurl, anna Beeb... yes, Mouse! Hold on! Oh good God, Cokie, get out from under my feet! ACK!
Dadda: Damned Dawg!
Maman: You don't think these guys are spoilt, do you?

Do I fink we're spolit? No. In fakt, I fink we need bedder help around heer, I rilly, rilly do.

And more raisins. Deffynitly more raisins.

--------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 8:22 AM EST
Wednesday, 30 November 2005
George's 11th Strand, Day Numbur 30
Now Playing: Why Can You Eat Your Own &$^%#ed Food?
Topic: The Next Generation

Tiday Maman and I looked atta website:

Disapproving Rabbits


I approve ob dis website. It totally illy-strates my feelings concerning sumfing dat is currently going on around heer dat involves dat all-imporatnt madder: FOOD.

You know whut's happinin?

Lemme tell you.

It all started wiffa Catz. Most fings do.

We hab two Catz: Cokie-da-Fat-Cat and Beep-da-Cloo-Less (her name says it all). Dey mainly hab decided dat dey wanna lib uppystairs inna Study where dey hab dere Own Sofa, dere Own Winders, and dere Own Bed inna Guest Room. Dey also hab dere Own Bafroom wiffa Shower, but Cokie goes toda Groomers wiffa Dawg, so dey don't bother wiffa shower. Much.

So, to keep downna complaints (and Cokie has plenty obb'em), Dadda has taken da 'Lektrik De-Lux Pootie Box and Containmint Unit up dere for dem, and ebbery nite, he makes Da Trek uppystairs frumma Kitchin wiffa cans ob Catz Food for dem. And ebbery free weeks, Dadda lugs a twenty-five pound bag ob Kitty Kibble uppastairs toda Study for dem, too.

So you'd fink dey wuld feel preddy es'peshul, lemme tell you.

But, being catz, dey don't. Cos catz don't wike ennyfing. It's just part ob dere natchur not to wike ennyfing, becos whutebber you do fora cat, it is just nebber, ebber quite, 'zactly whutta cat wanted you to do inna furst pwace.

Now Dawgs, onna udder paw, are preddy easy. Dey wike ebberyfing. 'Speshully Border Collies. 'Speshully food. And Border Collies don't just wike whutcha do for dem, dey lub it and want'chu to keep on doing it ober and ober and ober.

And dis applies 'speshully to food in bowls.

If you fill one bowl up, and you gotta keep on doing it - ober and ober and ober. And dey don't rilly care all dat much if it's Dere Own Food Bowl or Sumbunny Else's Food Bowl - Border Collies just LUBS a full bowl ob food.

And bunnies wike treats. We wike most treats, but each ob us has our favourites. Mouse is 'speshully fond ob cereal treats dat Maman gibs him whin he's watching "Law & Order". He likes Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal da best and doesn't wike it whin Maman goes fru da Kitchin and doesn't gib him enny. So he waits by da side ob his habbytat and stands up wif his nose inna air whin he hears her coming, and if he doesn't get enny treats, well, Mouse does a berry, berry GOOD disapproving wook, as you can see:

So Mouse wasn't gedding alla treats dat he wanted, anna catz were habbing a full bowl ob kibble, 'cept forda fakt datta Dawg was coming uppastairs and emptying it for dem. Several times a day.

And dere wassa wotta disapproval going on around Our Warren.

Anna catz didn't wike datta Dawg was eating dere kibble. So dey complained to Dadda.

So Dadda shutted da uppystairs door toda Study, which meant datta Catz was uppystairs wif him while he was Werkin, anna Dawg was downnastairs habbing Seperation Anxiety wif us.

So Mouse began to *thump*, to tell Maman dat sumfing was wrong wiffa Dawg.

Atta same time, da sound obba Dawg peeping and habbing his Anxiety Attack stawted up Beep-da-Stoopid-Cat who was uppastairs inna Study to begin habbing Issues about Her Dawg being shut downnastairs, so she stawted nagging at Dadda who was trying to Werk.

Well, dis didn't go down so good wif Dadda, so he told Beep to "Piss off".

Now you gotta unnerstan dat we all speak "British" as well as "'Murrican" Inkwish heer, and dis is onna'count ob becos Dadda comes frum someplace called "Summerset" in Inkwand. So "piss off" is sort ob wike Maman saying, "Hokay, go away." It is not as serious as, "Wookit, you're gedding on my last nerb, now GED OUT!" which in Dadda-speak wuld be anudder set ob two werds (wun ob which I am not alloud to type). So Beep just got told to mildly go away and stop annoying Dadda.

But, being a Cat, she taked it da wrong way and wint and peed onna floor beside da De-Lux Litter-Box and Containmint Unit, where Dadda discobbered it when he walked innit in bare feets on his way toda bafroom...

Meanwhile, da Dawg was downnastairs habbing anna'tack ob Seperatshun Anxiety ober da door being closed toda Study so he wuldn't eat alla food outta da Catz kibble bowl. And he's walking back and forf, and making peeping sounds, dat upsetted us becos we were trying to sleep.

And Beebe calls innu da Kitchin, "Yo! Dawg! Shaddup!"

Anna Dawg comes toda door obba Bun Room and says, "Wookit, I'm hungry. And I'm being Exklooded!"

And I'm wike, "Whutdaheck is 'Exklooded'?"

Anna Dawg says, "It's being shunned, thrown outta da Pack! It's the worst thing that could happen to a dawg! It's being OnAlone! I'll starve!"

And Missy wooks atta Dawg, shakes her hed and says, "Wookit, Dawg, you are not OnAlone. You're heer, wif us, inna Warren. Maman's just uppastairs inna Study, too, so it's not wike you're frown outta house or ennyfing. And as for starving, dere is dat kibble stuff in your dinner bowl. What are you, nuts?"

Anna Dawg whined at her, "Does dis mean you're gonna wet me be a bunny?"

And Missy, who can wook berry disapproving and also hassa rilly good sense ob sarcasm, wooked at him again and sed, "Yeah, you can be a bunny. A great, big, rilly stoopit black and white bunny wiffa stoopit plume obba tail. So you go hab sum hay anna lie-down and you'll be fine."

Anna Dawg who can be not bright but highly enthusiastic starts wagging his tail back and forf, and bifore you know it, he's snuffling along da Bun Room floor, snorting up pellets, pooties and bits ob hay.

And Clover, who libs wif Beebe wooks ober at Missy and says, "You know dat idiot is gonna get sik."

And Missy sorta shrugs and settles down innu loaf position and says, "Yeah, but if he's stoopit enuf to eat pellets, den he deserbs it." And she calls down toda Dawg, "Dat's rite, bunnies allus share! Alla Us Togedder, Nobunny OnAlone!"

And Clover shaked her ears and sed, "Missy, dat's not rite. But it's funny."

Anna two gurls watched da Dawg snuffling up pellets, pooties, strands ob hay anna lotta dust dat he found unnerneaf ob Mouse.

And den downnastairs comes Dadda, wif Cokie-da-Fat-Cat trailing behind. And Dadda says toda Dawg, "You wanna go Outside?" and adds, "Chase'a squirrels?" Which is wike axting iffa bunny wants to habba raisin.

Da ansur is allus "yes."

So out goes da Dawg, anna Fat Cat sidles up to da Dawg's food bowl, looks inside and says softly, "Oooo! Lunch!"

And starts eating Dawg kibble.

So Maman comes downnastairs and she says to Dadda, "Wook at dat. Da Cat is eating da Dawg's kibble."

And Dadda says, "Da Dawg ate da Cat Kibble."

So Maman wooked outta winder innu da Back Gardin and says to Dadda, "Da Dawg is being sik."

And Dadda joins her atta winder and wooks, and says, "He's prob'ly been eating bunny pellets."

And Maman wooks at us and axts Missy, "And whut hab YOU been eating?"

And Missy stares back at her, all disapproving, wike, "Whut?"

And Dadda wooks at Missy and den atta rest ob Our Warren, and sighs, and he picks uppa Fat-Cat and says, "Whydaheck can't you eat your own damn food?"

And Cokie-da-Fat-Cat sed...

----- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:55 AM EST
Tuesday, 29 November 2005
George's 11th Strand, Day Numbur 29
Now Playing: For Alla Those Who By Nite Do Travel

I just heered dat Alice, anudder bunny-child dat I know, has left forda Rainbow Bridge.

And dis day issa same day but yeers bifore I came to Our Warren day dat Our Bim who was Maman's Dadda, also left forda Rainbow Bridge. And Maman's Mawmie left to be wif him just a week ago.

Da Rainbow Bridge issa bizzy place.

Cos it was not so long ago dat Our Belinda and Our Hunny, da two Top Bunnies ob Our Warren left us to go there, too. And bifore dem Our Willow, and Our SnoBall ExFosta, and Our Mouse's Luckie-Bun, and Our Heatherington, and Our Belinda's Hawthorn wiffa bloo eyes and widdle loppy ears, and Our Hunny's Maggie and also His Poet left forda Rainbow Bridge, too.

So menny, menny bunnies. Too menny to type alla names heer inna Blog; so menny friends, so menny noo stars inna midnight skies streatching high ober-hed, wooking down heer on us...

And our Maman cried and cried, wif tears ob salt wadder running down her face each time sumbunny left Our Warren.

Not just becos she was sad dat dey left, but also becos she was still left heer and culdn't go wif dem. Maman is berry afraid ob ennybunny being left OnAlone.

And so ebbery time sumbunny left Our Warren, Maman wuld light a candle and tell us aboudda Rainbow Bridge - which is hokay, ob course, 'cept dat Our Hunny had alreddy told us abouddit, onna'count obba Rainbow Bridge is pawt obba Da Lore that ebberybunny knows, that is passed down frum nose to ear, frumma Eldest Bunny toda YoungestBun inna Warren.

And bunnies travel, you see, frum wun place to anudder. And we take Da Lore wif us.

Tommy Bun-Tucker issa bunny who libs in Noo Yawk now assa Elder Bun, but he didn't allus lib dere. Inna beginning whin he wassa liddle young-bun, he libbed sumwhere's else, near to Auntie Grace, but Auntie Laura Bun-Tucker away in Noo Yawk was short-obba-bunny, so Auntie Grace gotted Tommy frum Auntie Dawn, I fink it was, becos Tommy was wiffoud a home, and Auntie Grace taked him onna Hareplane to Washington.

And den Auntie Grace taked Tommy-inna-carrier and was gonna go sumplace wiff him, but she didn't, and so she wasn't atta Pentygon whenna Terrorists flied a plane innu it. She was onna road to deliber Tommy-inna-carrier to Auntie Jane and Unkle Tom.

And Auntie Jane and Unkle Tom met Maman and Phil-da-Lad wiffa car, and gabe Tommy-inna-carrier to dem, and Maman and Phil-da-Lad drove Tommy-inna-carrier up to a place wif steem trains in Pencil-vain-ya, and gabe Tommy-inna-carrier to Auntie Laurie Garner, and she taked Tommy-inna-carrier to Auntie Laura Bun-Tucker, and he was in his Forebber Home in Noo Yawk where he grew to become an Elder Bun.

And alla way onna road, Tommy kept Da Lore inside ob him, knowing dat he culd trust dees crazy hoomins to carry him frum hand to hand inna-carrier, becos deep inside ob dem, dey beliebed inna Da Lore, too.

Our Hunny sed datta Da Lore is more den just knowing aboudda Rainbow Bridge, it is aboud beliebing inna Great Cyrckle: how we begin, and end, all atta same place, only more 'Tellygint.

It is wike dis:
We come from Light innu darkness and see Light.
And we travel toward Light in Light, growing Brighter as we grow.
And we share Light for as long as it shines upon us here...

But there is Light that comes from Someplace Else and we allus go toward dat Brightness.

Follow da Light; Grow in Brightness, Hunny sed.

And at last, we will see da Rainbow Bridge shinging through the darkness, and we go towards that, where all ob our friends are waiting for us, and alla hoomins who lubbed us, alla'round, waiting to make dat Final Journey toward da Great Light dat Shines Inna Distance.

And it is FRUM dis Greatest Ob All Lights where we began, and where we, Alla Us Togedder, come Togedder at last.

And dis, issa Great Cyrkle obba Da Lore.

Atta Rainbow Bridge dere is brightness wike we hab nebber seed, Our Hunny telled me, and Da Meadow shines beyond it. He sed da Light nebber stops shining inna Meadow, and dat dere is allus just enuf rain, wiffa sun shining fru it, sodat da Rainbow Bridge is allus glowing brightly through the darkness like a arch fru Space and Time.

And Our Hunny sed dat becos we bunnies hab Da Lore and can see fings dat hoomins can't see, and so we are nebber afraid. But Hoomins can't see wike we can, and so dey wander, not allus knowing da way, and dey gets lost inna mists anna fogs.

We bunnies are Childer Obba Light while hoomins are Childer Obba Mists. Dat dis happined a wong, wong time ago, and dat while dere is nuffin' we can do abouddit atta momint, it will be put rite sumday, but for now, dis is how it is. So we are diffrunt Childer but we come frumma Same Place! Which is howcome we journey on, Alla Us Togedder.

And Our Hunny sed to me:
"Widdle George, hoomins light candles inna dark so dat dey can find dere way. So dey light candles for us, too, finking dat we needa same help as dem to see. Dat's nice ob dem, but we can see just fine. I can see da Bridge, wike I telled Belinda. When it is your turn, you will seeda Bridge, too, and whin you see it, be sure to tell alla youngbuns in your Warren what you see, and how it wooks, so dey will know dat dey don't needa hoomin candles to find dere way toit, datta Bridge is dere, shining fru da dark, and dat ebben those who travel by nite, can find it. Just follow da Light, widdle George. Keep following Light."

So Maman is lighting a candle for Alice Bunny, finking dat she is helping her to find da pafway to da Rainbow Bridge.

And dis is kind of Maman.

But I wish dat I culd get her to unnerstan' her whut I alreddy know: dat rabbits follow da Light, and go on, from Light to Light to Bright.

But I know can unnerstan' why she cries, and I know why she is sad. She has her own Lore and it is long and complykated, and she writes buks abouddit, but she still cries, mainly becos she misses alla bunnies dat hab libbed heer in Our Warren bifore, and alla hoomins who hab helped to make her who she is.


And I can unnerstand dat. Cos I miss Hunny and his allua habbin' hay to share, and Belinda and her, "I can't be habbin' wif dis!"

But I gotta go on, lemme tell you, growin' 'Tellygint, and spreading Da Lore and libbing as an Urban HouseRabbit.

Light innu Light innu Bright.

----- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 10:38 AM EST
Monday, 28 November 2005
George's 11th Strand, Day Numbur 28
Now Playing: Makin' A List...

Well, its anudder Manic Monday. Maman waked up all fulla Stuff for Our Warren to do. And dis is mainly onna'count ob her Lists dat are hanging all ober da Big White Box Dat Has Food Innit, which is Maman's natchural posting-place for Lists.

But Maman waked up all noisy and cheerful. And we wassn't.

Hab you ebber had dat?

You're waking up nice and slow, chewing onna strand ob hay rilly peaceful wike, and den sum person comes steaming innu da Bun Room atta'thousand miles-per-hour, making all kinds ob noise, all cheerful aboutta "Good Morning, Bunnies!" and "Wakey, wakey, Bunnies!".

And you habba wook outta'da winder, and its all dark and cwoudy out, and its cold (and you know dis onna'count obba fakt datta Dawg has alreddy stuck his nose innu Dadda's ear and waked him up by way ob axting to go Outside, and Dadda has grumbled his way out innu da Bun Room and opined da Back Door to let outta Dawg, and letted inna'blast ob cold air rite up your butt) and you wook at dis cheerful, most-ob-all Loud person, and you fink:

"Whutdaheck is up wif you?"

So we gots Maman all awake and dwinking coffee outta her big cup and most-ob-all, being determinedly cheerful (which sucks, lemme tell you!).

And whut is worse, I fink, is dat she's bin making Lists.

AnOnTopObDis, da tellyphone is ringing for Dadda's business, wif alla dis drawing werk dat people's want done for dem.

Which is good, I susspose, cos Dadda says dat werk for him means carrots for us.

And he says Alla Us Togedder here at Our Warren take a whole'wotta werk, not to menshun carrots, which are a whole'nudder story.

But back toda Lists...

Phil-da-Lad was heer, and now he hassa List posted onna Big White Box Dat Has Food Innit. Atta top obba List it says, "Phil's Christmas List".

And den dere is sum writing unnerneaf, like:
"P - pp. 43 LE - blu"
"A - pp. 147 LE - pk"
And den a tellyphone numbur, I fink. And den sum more writings and sum "!!!!!" and "????" and stuff wike dat.

Nestest todat, dere issa'nudder List dat says: "P'ton Mkt" and dat issa long List dat goes on and on and on. Maman keeps adding to it, too, almost every time she wooks inna Big White Box Dat Has Food Innit.

Atta bottom it says in thin, red handwriting: "Gedda Turkeys to take to Fr. Dirk!!!"

Just why Father Dirk wants turkeys, I dunno. He's da priest at St. Luke's where I go sittin' in Hunny's Church Baskit wiffa big bloo blow. Howebber, if Maman finks he needs dem, he's gonna gedd'em.

And DEN dere's anudder List dat says:
"Stuff to Do" and dat's anudder long list. Maman putted dat wun up Wast Nite bifore she went to bed, and dat's da wun dat she is adding to dis morning.

Dadda hadda wook at dat List while he was habbin a glass ob milk and waiting forda Dawg to ged tired ob wooking forda squirrels early dis mawning bifore Maman waked up. And he didn't wook happy. Nedder did Dadda whinna Dawg finally commed in; Dadda knows as well assa rest ob us dat whin Maman geds dees Idees and stawts making Lists we're all gonna be turned upside down until she finally fortygeds allabout dem.

So dis is whut Maman is all Loud and Cheerful aboud dis mawning: her Lists. She is partik-you-arly cheerful aboudda "ToDo List" wun dat she has going.

Atta top it says, "Find Chrissy Lights inna basemeint", and nextest it says, "Hang dem up outside". Dadda sed sumfing aboudda ladder and wint uppystairs to his office.

Dere are no ladders uppystairs inna office.

So Maman is heer, going on aboud lights and 'speshully Lists on dis cwoudy morning whin Alla Us Togedder wuld radder stay loafed up, chewing onna bits ob hay (which is just whut we were doing bifore she commed in heer being all loud and cheerful) and sort ob waking up slow.

Anna Dawg, (who gets 'cited aboud air) is all jumping around, anna catz (who don't get 'cited aboud nuffing) hab disappeared, and it's just Alla Us Togedder wif Maman, trying to ged 'cited ober alla dees Lists...

...Ooops...I justdisminit heard'da frunt door, and Dadda's gone off to see a "cly-ant". Hmmmmm...

It seems dis List stuff, well, it's NOT werking out!

Cos onna cold, cwoudy mornings, when dere is winter air blasting up your butt, da last fing you wanna do is ged up and ged 'cited aboudda bunch ob Lists dat are hung up, flapping inna breeze, onna Big White Box Dat Has Food Innit.

Lemme tell you.

---- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 9:16 AM EST
Saturday, 19 November 2005
George's 11th Strand, Day Numbur 19
Now Playing: Fixing Uppa 'Mergency Plans
Topic: The Next Generation

Well, finally Maman got Phil-the-Lad to habba wook atta tellybishon and he found out whut wassa'matter wiffit (and this issa whole reason why Mouse wassn't been gedding to watch his favourite tellybishon program, Law & Order): the On/Off switch is messed up.

Which is whut Dadda had sed inna beginning when this whole mess started, but wif Maman being the Hysterical Personality dat she is, she figgered datta tellybishon was gonna burn down da whole danged house, so she wuldn't let Mouse watch his favourite program.

Onna'count obba fakt dat one nite she culdn't getta tellybishon to turn off. And she was so 'fraid obbit dat she refused to pull da plug, and hadda call up Phil-da-Lad while he was in line atta Wal-Mart store in Maryland, so she culd get his advice on whut to do becos Dadda wassn't home and she wassa 'fraid obba tellybishon blowing up.

Phil says, "Dere are times when Maman makes NO SENSE!"

Which just goes to show you how much we hab to put up wif to hab her around heer.

But she's a good fooder, so we put up wif her.

Ennyways, Phil-da-Lad came heer wast week-end, wooked atta tellybishion and sed to Maman,

"Yup, it's the On/Off switch, Ma. Just don't let it run too long. When it blows completely, I'll get a new one for ya."

And Maman sed, "Da tellybishon is gonna blow up?"

And Phil sed, "No, Ma. The switch. It will stop werking. I sed "blows completely" assa figger ob speech. It's not going to, you know, explode or anything."

And Maman sed: "Oh."

And dat was dat. He 'splained some complicated stuff bout Hextpansion and Sodder and Sirkits and Maman nodded wike she knowed whut he meant, but I know she didn't. She's bin trained to nod wike dat ebben after her eyes hab glazed ober.

So wast nite, Mouse got to see his show, Law & Order, CSI which he doesn't wike as much assa 'riginal Law & Order but which is hokay, cos it is way bedder den not habbin' enny Law & Order at all.

You see, where Mouse came frum, his former Dadda usta let him out alla time and they wuld watch Law & Order togedder sittin onna sofa. So to Mouse, being able to hear da music and hear da voices on Law & Order is wike habbin' a visit frum old friends. It wets him know datta werld is still all rite, and dere are still sofas and hoomins who lub him.

Mouse unnerstands sights and sounds dat means ebberyfing is safe. Law & Order is part ob his werld, so Maman feels dat it is hokay for him to keep watching it since it makes him feel good. So she watches it wif him, ebben though she mostly reads a buk while it is on.

"Con-tin-noo-it-tee ob En-vy-ron-mint" Maman calls it. She says its important to hoomins as well as to bunnies, and dat we hab to do allus "Pree-serb" it.

Dat's why she and Dadda are werkin' tiday onna "Mergency Plans" for Our Warren. Maman says we gotta habba 'Mergency Plans for whut to do iffa big snow storm or a big wind storm comes along and takes away our Lektricity.

Maman is also typin' up noo E-vak-u-a-shun Plans for Our Warren in case we gotta ged outta da house inna hurry. Our habbytats can be rolled, as Dadda pointed out, which issa berry GUD fing, so we can be rolled rite outta doors and taken toda car. Anna Dawg's leash is rite by Clover and Beebe's habbytat. And there are carriers rite uppastairs forda cats, and wun downnastairs dat dey can fit innu, and pillowcases just-in-case dere issa need to stuff dem into dere to drag dem out.

Maman says,
"You can't plan against ebberyfing, but if you habba plan, you won't panic whin ebberyfing stawts happinin' around you."

And Dadda is makin' sure we hab ways to keep at least one room warm and light for ebberybun in case dere are no Lektricks, cos it gets COLD in Noo Joisey inna Winter.

And Maman is checkin' onna supplies ob food and wadder for Alla Us Togedder in case she and Dadda can't ged toda store.

As Maman says, "Plan now, don't panic tomorry."

So mostly, we are glad dis is going on.

I fink most ob dis is happinin' not cos ob Law & Order but becos Auntie Grace and The Herd in Kin-Tuck-Eee were inna middle obba tornado justa-udderday. And dey were HOKAY mostly cos obba'fakt dat:
1.) God taked care ob Alla Dem Togedder and
2.) Paul-da-Lad (who issa'nudder Speshul Bunny Guy wike Dadda and Phil-da-Lad) hadda 'Mergency Plan dat he was followin' to keep ebberybun in The Herd (incloodin' Percy-da-Liddle-Cat) safe.

So dat's why we are spending tiday wooking ober da 'Mergency Plans for Our Warren and making shure dat we hab ebberyfing in order we shuld... it's Pree-serbing da Con-tin-noo-it-tee ob Our En-vy-ron-mint or just staying safe.

------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:58 AM EST

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