George's fifth Strand; Day Number 4
Now Playing: Here Comes The Sun

Here comes da sun!

Yeah!

Woke up dis morning, had sum hay, hadda look around and then Missy woke up.

And she nipped me inna butt again and we hadda widdle chase around the habbytat.

This is getting beyond a joke, lemme tell you.

I mean, whut's going on here?

I am notta kinda bunny-rabbit that makes much obba fuss, you know? I'm preddy reg'lar in my habits - I ged up, sing a widdle song, hab sum hay, wander around, habba look inna wadder crock, sing anudder widdle song -

In other werds, I don't do much, but MissyBun seems to FINK I'm doing all kinds of stuff dat I usually can't ebben imagine myself doing.

It's wike I'm not unnerstanding my place inna unnyverse or sumfing.

Or else Missy's unnyverse hassa noo job for me innit and I habbin't reported for dooty yet.

I mean, all I hab been doing is growing more 'Tellygint, which is whut rabbits do. I don't fink I'm s'sposed to gedda nip-inna-butt because ob dat (at least, if I am, Hunny nebber sed ennyfing aboud it).

Now I am still a good groomer. This is onna'count obba fakt dat I lub MissyBun, so I groom her alla time - and she issa Beautiful Bunnygurl ob Gen'rus P'porshuns, so dere issa lot ob Missy for me to groom. I mean, she is notta "once or twice arounna ears, and we're all done sweetie". Oh no. MissyBun issa "you bedder leeb chalk-marks so you know where you left off, buster" kinda rabbit what needs meticulous grooming.

And I do that.

But just let me stick my hed unnerneaf ob her to get my ears done and you'd fink it wassa End Obba Werld sumtimes. I get suchha nip!

And it's not wike dis is consistent, eidder. It's like "whin she feels wike it". Like there are times whin I get my ears groomed and udder times whin I get my butt nipped. It's just that I can't tell which one its gonna be until too late-to-do-ennyfing-abouddit.

So while Maman was doing da Laundry (dat is, washing clothes) she and I hadda "Fink" aboudd it.

And Maman sed, "Well, George, da fakt is dat you are notta Youngbun ennymore. You were Babby George whin you arrived here and now you are Grown-up George, and Missy is reacting to you like you're an Adult Bunny instead of a baby bunny."

"You mean she wiked me bedder whin I was noo?"

And Maman sort of thought dis ober fora minit (she was folding towels, and puttin' them onna top ob my habbytat) and she sed,

"Well, noo seems to kinda wear off afta awhile, and geds replaced by "used to" as in "comfortable". Like where your pellet bowl is now is comfortable, but if I moved it, you wouldn't be "used to" where it was for awhile."

And I settled down wif my paws unner me, because Maman can't ebben gedda hang ob approaching a subjek unless it's by the long 'way 'round.

"You gotta keep an eye onna fings dat is "noo" in case dey do sumfing strange." Maman went on. "It's hard werk. Wif fings you are "used to" you don't gotta watch dem alla time cos dey aren't gonna change alla dat much, and you are free to concentrate onna udder stuff dat needs your 'tenshun. And if dat "udder stuff" manages to 'nnoy you, den you're gonna be 'nnoyed wiffa stuff you are "used to" as well assa stuff dat is 'nnoying you."

"So," I offered helpfully, "whut you're saying issa da stuff you're "used to" you don't see, whereas da stuff dat is "noo" you do. So Missy doesn't see me ennymores?"

And Maman shaked her hed and grabbed anudder towel.

"No, Missy sees you fine." She sed. "And she wuld miss you something chronic if you weren't there. She wouldn't be at all "used to" you not being there, if you know whut I mean. She depends on you being there and being part ob her werld. It's just that she doesn't hab to devote a whole, huge part ob her brain to watching you like she once did and the extry parts ob her brain she's not using to watch you, she's using to watch udder fings. And whin those udder fings make her 'nnoyed, den she geds 'nnoyed wif you, too."

"So Missy doesn't habba big brain?"

Maman dropped the towel she was folding and slammed her hand ober my mouf.

"Shaddupshaddupshaddup, George!" she whispered. "Whut are you, stoopit?"

She let go ob my mouf and we wooked at each udder for a sekond.

And I'm wike, "Oops, fortygotted myself dere fora sekond." So I sed, kinda loudly, "Missy's gotta berry powerful brain. Wike a 'puter, rilly, it just ticks right along and nebber misses a beat."

And since I didn't hear enny feets pounding towards me at high speeds ob retribution, I figgered eidder Missy hadn't herd me or else she figgered it wassn't worf da bodder.

And den Maman continued: "It's not wike dat, George. It's more wike dat Missy is comfortable wif you as you are, but atta same time, she's not realising dat you aren't a babby bunny who hasta be told whut to do. You know, Belinda was right about you."

"Belinda was allus rite about ebberyfing." I sed, cos ebben though Belinda Bunny has crossed da Rainbow Bridge, you nebber know; English Spots probably can still hear ebberyfing. "She was possytib ob dat."

"Well, she was rite dat you are growing into Our Warren's Top Bun. I think Missy didn't quite expect you to have as strong a personality as you're developing. I think maybe she thought she could go on devoting less of her brain to being "used to" you, when maybe you'd like her to go back to devoting a little bit more of it to noticing you like she used to."

And I thought abouddat fora minit, cos sumtimes you hab to unravel Maman's thoughts for her, like balls ob lint, until you seperate out alla strands and find whut's rilly inside ob it.

"Missy issa berry busy bunny." Maman added. "Gotta wot to do, and she would rather not be doing three-quarters obbit, which puts her inna bad mood to begin wif."

She began folding anudder towel. "And you are da kind ob bunny who just natchurally finks ebberyfing is gonna be a team-effort. In udder werds," Maman putta folded towel on my habbytat.

"I don't know how usta you pokin' your nose innu ebberyfing Missy rilly is, onna'count obba fakt dat usually whin bunnies poke dere noses in, it means dey is gonna just be more trubble, whereas you are just cheerfully helping Missy to see dat dere are more den two sides to enny isshoo. More or less."

So I tried to follow dat throught through the Spaghetti Junction of Maman's brain, and got lost.

"So issat bad?" I axted finally.

And Maman shaked her hed. "It's not bad, it's just that you and Missy are missing each udder's train of thought. You gotta try to bemember dat you are not allus da Furst Fing on her brain, and she hasta bemember dat you are not just Anudder Idiot."

"I am George." I said. "Growing 'Tellygint."

"Dat's rite." Said Maman. "And while you're attit, try to bemember not to keep looming up on Missy's event-horizon like sum kinda cheerful balloon. Der are certain dangers in being the one who starts singing Here Comes the Sun to sumbun who is determined to go sit in their own personal thunderstorm."

Good, old Maman! She sorts through the Tumble Dryer of her mind and sumhow, when she's managed to fold alla udder thoughts neatly away she allus manages to find an Idea. So dis, at last, was her point!

"So dat's whut's going on heer?" I axted. "I'm just too cheerful?"

"I think," said Maman, loading uppa Bloo Baskit wif towels to take toda linen closet. "you habba realise dat you can't fix ebberyfing for ebberybun alla time, onna'count obba fakt dat you are not Maman, and you are, in fakt, George."

And she leaned ober and kissed my nose.

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

George's 4th Strand; Day Number 29
Now Playing: Bim's Spring Song

Yup. We're gonna sing it tiday, so it's Official!

SRING HAS ARRIVED!

And because Spring is heer, Alla Us Togedder at Our Warren are gonna get togedder inna group and sing Bim's Spring Song.

And you can sing along wif us!

Now, just in case you don't know, I will tell you Da Lore dat is alla'bout Bim's Spring Song. Den nextest year, whin Winter is finally ober and you see dat Spring has arrived again, you, too, can welcome it wiffa Bim's Spring Song just like we do!

Hokay, now dis issa Lore:

Dis issa Lore of Our Warren told to me, George by me, Hunny who was Top Bun of Our Warren for Thirteen Yeears.

When Hunny had been Top Bun of Our Warren for a little over two-three years, there was living inna Warren:
Maman, and Phil-the-Lad, hoomins, and
me,Hunny and Maggie, and Heatherington, rabbits, and
Tristan, the Ancient Dog who wassa dawg.

It had been a berry long and sad Winter. In fact, da only Bright Spot had been whin Maman had rescued Maggie frumma Stoopit Drunk Peoples and brought her home to Hunny where dey found Troo Love and bonded instantly. But Maman had werked berry hard for berry widdle munny, and dere wassn't much to eat, and Phil-the-Lad had been sik, and dere had ebben bin times whin the Great Dragon Furnace in the basement had been starved for fuel, so it had bin berry cold in dat houz.

Now Maman's Fadda (you hab to get this rite) was a berry nice man who wassa Perfesser, which means dat he teached youngbun-hoomins, but that's whut he usta do. He was whut hoomins called "retired", meaning he didn't do dat enny more, but got munny for not doing it onna'count obba fakt dat he was old.

And Maman's Fadda's name was Bill but whin Phil-the-Lad wassa kit, he couldn't say that rite, and he couldn't say "Granddaddy" (which was whut he was s'sposed to call Maman's Fadda) so he copied whut his Sista called Maman's Fadda, and called him, "Bim", which was enuf like "Bill" dat ebberybunny knew who dey were talkin' aboud. And more den dat, Bim liked being called "Bim" onna'count obba fakt dat it made him dif'frunt frum ebbery udder "Granddaddy" or "Bill" inna Whole Wide Werld, and Bim liked being 'peshul.

Because, onna whole, he knew dat he wassa berry peshul, dif'frunt kinda personal hoomin. Which is TROO. He was.

He usta come ober to Maman's house ebbery day and hab coffee (dat he was not s'sposed to hab) and smoke ciggyrets (which he was not 'lowed to smoke) and talk (which he got told he did too much) and "waste time" (which he wasn't s'sposed to be doing, eidder).

And whin he could manage it, he usta gib Maman munny to help her buy stuff she needed, because he could see dat she needed help, but was not 'lowed to hab enny. Of course, he wasn't 'lowed to hab munny eidder, onna'count obba fakt dat "all he wuld ebber do is waste it".

As he and Maman usta observe, dat kinda fing is allus said by hoomins who don't aktchually habba go to werk to earn enny munny, but who wanta hang on to alla it.

Most ob all, he was Cheerful, because Cheerful, wike ebberyfing else, was in berry short supply around dat houz. But Cheerfulness is not s'pensive, and it is berry valuable when it is in short supply.

Bim beeleved in allus Looking Forwards. So whin it was Winter, he was Looking for Spring, and whin fings was Down, he was Looking Up.

Dat habit of mind made sum udder hoomins accuse him ob being trivial, but axtually, it made him berry 'Tellygint onna'count obba fakt dat he knew fings mite not be going great just at dat momint but he had great faith dat dey wuld Turn Around Soonest.

So whin it was cold and it was Winter, and fings were hard, Bim came ebbery week to visit at Our Warren and talk about how fings would get bedder sumhow. If dey could all werk togedder to solve whutebber was wrong in dat sekond and just manage to survive for one more day, yes, well, Spring would have to arrive.

"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

Bim usta say dis.

And Maman would nod and say, "We'll get through it."

And Bim would say, "You allus got me, kid." And he would wook around at Alla Us Togedder and nod.

And we knew dat was TROO, too.

To a point. Because nobun libs forebber.

But one day, just whin you could lift your nose and smell dat alla frosts were gone frumma air, anna breeze tasted softer, Bim crashed through the frunt door wiffout ringing da bell (as usushual) and hollered out innu da Kitchen where Maman was,

"Hey, is dere enny chance fora cuppa coffee in dis place?"

And Maman sed dat dere was.

And Bim stopped in frunt obba Living Room mirror, turned to his reflection and suddinly, threw out his arms inna "theatrical gesture", and began to sing...

Now I gotta stop here and whisper you sumfing berry fast: Maman usta be a perfessional musik person bifore da Bad Times, and Bim did ammychur actin' and singin' stuff. And dey werked togedder a lot, which helped to make Bim berry, berry good. He hadda wunnerful singin' voice and Maman helped him wif stuff dat nobun ebber knowed.

But bunnies see ebberyfing. As Belinda usta say, we are only one fut offa ground and hoomins don't wook down. But we look up.

So Bim stopped in frunt obba Living Room mirror, opened up his mouf on dat soft, early morning and he singed:

Spring is Sprung!
Da Grass is riz!
I wonder where
The Birdies is?

And that issa Spring Song and it was furst sung by Bim in frunt obba Living Room mirror for Our Warren, to cellybrate the Arrival ob Spring.

And this is how it happined at Our Warren, which is now part obba Lore as I, George, Top Bun obba Warren hab told it to you as it was told to me by me, Hunny, who was dere.

And now me, Hunny and Maggie, Heatherington, and Tristan, the Ancient Dog, and even Bim have all left Our Warren for the Rainbow Bridge. And We Who Stay Behind bemember and miss them 'most ebbery day onna'count obba fakt dat dere is still preddy much all kinds ob sufficent evil still happining ebbery day -

BUT...

We hab faith.

Bim teached us that Spring will allus follow Winter. Ebbery day can be bedder den da day bifore. So we need to cellybrate the Now and look forward to Tomorrow, and then we hafta be reddy to cellybrate Tomorrow whin it comes.

And, so, ebbery Spring, Alla Us Togedder heer at Our Warren gather togedder at the first sign of Spring, just whin the last frost has gone and the air turns soft, and we sing:

Spring is Sprung!
The Grass is riz!
I wonder where
The Birdies is?

And we bemember Our Bim.

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

George's 4th Strand; Day Number 28
Now Playing: "Where Hab Alla Flowers Gone" (Sum Old 60's Song Maman knows)

Hokay, I fink I hab figgered dis out onna'count obba fakt it happins ebbery Spring.

You see, bunnies shed. Dat's rite. We loose our Winter coats and grow in our Summer coats, and ob course, being the helpful, nice, loving bunnies dat we are, we help each other do this by grooming.

Now, grooming issa funny fing. It looks like a lotta werk and it is, but it is werk dat means sumfing more den just werk. It issa social contract obba most intimmymate kind. Grooming issa gloo dat bonds bunnies togedder and if you're not careful, it's also da gloo dat will seal your insides shut faster den plaster, lemme tell you.

I mean, you take a bunny the size ob my MissyBun who is a beautiful gurl-bun ob Gen'rus Propor'shuns. Dere issa whole wotta bunny-rabbit dere to love, and I loves her, but when you fink aboudda fakt dat I groom dat entire bunny-rabbit frum nose to tail, ebbery day, carefully going ober ebbery hair ob dat fur wif my toofies, well, it seems like almost too much obba Great Plenty.

Or as Dadda says to me, "Hey George, did you leeb a chalk mark so you know where you left off?"

Well, I would leeb a chalk mark, lemme tell you, cept I don't hab enny chalk and no pockets to keep it in. Besides, habbin pockets would only slow down whut I like to call da Grooming Process onna'count obba fakt dat a bunny wuld hab to be onna LookOut for pocket lint, and that can't be good.

We hab enuf fings to be onna LookOut for as it is, wiffout habbin to add in pocket lint. And wunna those things we hab to be onna LookOut for is Tummy Troubles frum having Ingested Too Much Ob Udder Bunnies' Fur while we are grooming them.

Now when Catz ingest too much fur, they go innu a quiet corner, usually onna bestest carpet inna whole houz, and hork uppa hairball. Dis issa Cultural Fing for Catz to do. But bunnies do not habba Gag Reflex, so we can't hork up ennyfing. Da hair and fur dat we do swallow while grooming, we hab to shove thru our digestive system and outta udder end, and just hope dat it doesn't get hung up ennywheres.

I mean, when you're gooming sumbun during a heavy shed, one kink in your innerds, and you're a walking a lint-trap wiffa clog inna werks.

Now most bunnies use Hay to keep the System moving along atta reasonable rate. (When you are bonded to a Bunny Ob Gen'run Propor'shuns such as my MissyBun you can't afford to hab enny slow-downs inna gut-depawtmint.) And inna Springtime when your bond-mate is sheddin' da heaviest load ob fur inna year, dis means you are grooming just about twenty-four/sebben, so you need to eat a Whole Lotta Hay to keep dat ingested fur moving along through your digestive system.

Except the quality obba Hay during the early Spring, whenna shed issa werst isn't so good.

Whut I'm talking about heer, issat The New Hay Crop issn't in yet, and we're still werking offa leebings ob Last Year's Harvest.

Yeah. Maman and Dadda hadda noo bale delivered yestidday, and don't you know dat it was frumma same cutting assa bale fumma last time!

And here was me finking it was gonna be a whole noo bale ob noo, fresh hay, and here were my innerds, looking forwards to eating it, too, onna'count obba fakt dat I had just finished grooming MissyBun frum stem to stern (inklooding paddle-feets) and she was all happy wif me and ebberyfing, and dere wassa whole wotta fur making its way through my digestive system - and whut we got wassa whole pile da size ob Manhattan dat wasn't Noo Hay, but just the same Old Hay inna Noo Bale.

And Maman sed, "Da noo Hay Crop issn't in yet."

And Dadda said, "Too early yet. Late May, early June bifore da bunnies see dat."

And I'm finking dat MissyBun was Wun Happy Bunny, habbing been groomed and habbing had our bonding thus made that much stronger by the accomplishment ob dis social ritual, and alla dat happy stuff, and here was I wiffa big pile ob timothy hay frum Last Year's Harvest.

And ebben CloverBun who is usually preddy upbeat cos she issa Very Positive Bunny sed, "My bum hurts." when Beebe held his nose up to be cleaned. Again.

Well, I mean, can you blame her? Beebe currently hassa messy nose onna'count ob being sik, and Clover is trying to groom and comfort him, and he's not hextactly got alla his "acorns inna same basket", so to speak, inna furst place onna'count ob his habbing been raised assa Skool Bunny. And he's habbing Trubble grooming her onna'count obba fakt dat he is:
1.) Old and
2.) Sik and
3.) Nuts ennyway
And dat's not ebben going innu da fakt dat she is three times bigger den he is, so dat ebben on a Good Day (which he hasn't hexactly had too menny ob lately) Grooming His Missus issa Rilly Big Job for dat One Tiny Bunny.

So Clover looks like a hextploding dandelion-puff, and Beebe, da poor guy, looks a liddle, snotty bunny, and now dere is alla dis good-quality-but-Last-Year's-Hay dat is s'sposed to help her moob alla his snotty fur dat is clogging up her digestive system on its way fru to da udder end obba bunny.

We are not talking Happy Bunnies here.

Grooming issa social bond dat holds da Warren togedder. Wiffoud it, rabbits gots No Smell, which means dat we hab no social identity assa Group. Grooming your bondmate issa way ob telling her, "I lub you" and "You and Me is We"; it's whut puts da OUR in Our Warren.

But wif dat OUR dat we get frum grooming, comes fur-inna-digestive-system for which we need our hay. And wouldn't you know it? Just when we're inna middle ob our Heaviest Grooming Season, the Hay Season hasn't ebben started yet.

And den Maman and Dadda comes along, rilly casual-like, passing our raisins and checking butts, and wouldn't you know it?

We're still on this blasted Hay Diet!

-------By George

George's 4th Strand; Day Number 21 - "Law & Order"
Now Playing: "Law & Order" Theme by Mike Post

7:57 AM
ADA Mr. Mouse's Deposition:

You must understand that, until my arrival at Our Warren I was living first as a single rabbit, then in the company of Ms LuckieBun under the ownership of a gentleman from the nation of Liberia. I knew him as "Dad" and for the purposes of this deposition will refer to him as "Dad From Liberia."

With Dad From Liberia, I shared an apartment in which I was given my own space with all the proper food and sleeping arrangements anybun would require. There were regular treats and pets. Dad went out every morning to work and I spent the majority of my day napping until he returned. Upon his return, he would speak to me in a friendly manner and make food for himself, after which, he would open my enclosure, and he and I would sit together on the sofa. He would give me a bowl of small cereal squares and he would eat the food he had prepared for himself.

While we ate, he would push a button on a box across from the sofa and a group of other hoomins who appeared behind the words: Law & Order would enter our room.

These Law & Order visitors were all hoomins. None of them were rabbits. All of them appeared to be "detectives" and "ADA's" and they arrived every evening at the same time, and departed when it was time for me to return to my enclosure. They did not leave their Law & Order box, but they talked to us and to each other.

Over time, I came to regard these "detectives" and "ADA's" as friends who came to visit with us when Dad From Liberia returned from work. I noticed that there was special "music" that played when they were about to arrive, and special pluck-pluck music between their conversations with each other. There was the same music at the end of their time with us as there was at the beginning, so that the time they shared with us was bracketed (you could say) by a musical "theme".

These "visits" from the hoomins of Law & Order continued every evening for five years.

During the time of these visits, I noticed that the visitor named "Jack McCoy" seemed to be especially interesting. I began to watch him carefully, noting that he appeared to be important to the other Law & Order hoomins because he did a majority of the talking while the others listened. He also dressed well, which is something that I, as a fairly meticulous rabbit, value.

He had, I believe, only one true failing and that was an apparent fondness for wearing silly-looking hats. I have no idea why hoomins feel the need to pose in headgear that makes them look as if they have been deprived of their original fur. Why replace what looks so normal and natural with alien zig-zag patterns? Why wear hanging strings, ear-flaps or hide their eyes beneath floppy brims? It makes no sense, but as soon as the weather in the Law & Order box seems to include cold and snow, Jack turns up wearing a stoopit-looking hat.

As I said, the visits from Law & Order continued. At some point, (I don't recall exactly when) Dad From Liberia brought home LuckieBun to share the apartment with me, so that I would not become lonely while he was away at work.

LuckieBun was an intact, mild-natured, mainly white, female miniLop bunny. She also enjoyed visits with the Law & Order box, but not so much as I, as she tended to be more concerned with food. I understand that miniLops often are rather fixated on where their next meal might be hiding out while they're not actively consuming it.

Shortly after LuckieBun arrived to live with us, disaster struck in the form of an intact, female hoomin who came to live with Dad From Liberia. She did not like bunnies in the house and ordered Dad From Liberia to (and I quote) "GET RID OF THOSE RABBITS!"

Unwilling to abandon us, and fearful of selling us, Dad From Liberia cuddled us close and held out as long as he could against this unaltered female who shared his living-space. Eventually, she prevailed and he took us to a V-E-T's. There was water coming out of his eyes as I had observed happening to various visitors during especially stressful times inside the Law & Order box.

Then, inexplicably, Dad From Liberia took us from the office of the V-E-T and brought us here to Our Warren. I am not sure how this happened, or why, but suddenly LuckieBun and I were accepted and adopted into Our Warren by the critically ill, de-facto Top Bun, Belinda Bunny (originator of the Hay Diaries), and an ancient miniLop Senior Top Bun named me, Hunny. (George Bunny, who took over typing the Hay Diaries when Belinda Bunny passed to the Rainbow Bridge in July of 2004, and who is now Top Bun, was a very youngbun at the time of our arrival here.)

LuckieBun passed to the Rainbow Bridge shortly after we arrived at Our Warren, just before Belinda Bunny. I miss both of these unique and special bun-gurls very much.

In the Winter of 2005, Maman and Dadda moved Alla Us Togedder from the Old House to this New House. Our Warren was given a Noo Bun Room that put us on the same general territory as some place called the Sitting Room.

You can well imagine my surprise when one evening as I was sitting in my habbytat in the Noo Bun Room when I suddenly heard the music of my old friends from the Law & Order box coming from the Sitting Room! I had not seen them since leaving the previous place I shared with my Dad From Liberia and LuckieBun!

As soon as I heard the pluck-pluck music that plays between conversations on Law & Order, I began to try to attract somebun's attention. I created a Disturbance: I threw toys, tipped over my water crock, and upset my pootie box. I threw hay as far and as fast as I could, doing everything within my powers as a small rabbit to call hoomin attention to the fact that I could hear my former friends visiting in another room and was demanding to be let out, as formerly, to see them!

Eventually, after what seemed to me to be a very long time Maman appeared in the doorway to the Noo Bun Room and, upon seeing her, I began to bounce up and down, and to grunt, telling her in plain Lagomorphin to get me out of my habbytat and take me into the Sitting Room where I could hear my friends' Law & Order music playing.

One thing about Maman is that she is dense. She is not willfully dense, but she is dense-by-nature. Whereas I believe Jack McCoy wears a stoopit hat for reasons obscure to even himself, Maman needs to wear one to keep her thoughts contained inside her head.

I finally had to stand up on my back feets, place my front paws on the sides of my habbytat and almost be reduced to begging to be picked up and taken into the Sitting Room where I knew my Law & Order friends would be waiting.

By the time Maman understood what was required of her, and had picked me up and carried me into the Sitting Room, my friends in the Law & Order box were GONE!

I cannot adequately express the enormity of my disappointment.

The term "BUGGERRIT!" comes to mind.

The following night, I again heard the music that announced the arrival of my Law & Order friends and at once repeated my attempts to gain hoomin attention.

This time, I was noticed by "Dadda" who displays somewhat more sense than the sweet-natured but dim-witted Maman. "Dadda" picked me up and took me into the Sitting Room where I was dismayed to discover that my Law & Order friends were just leaving! I was in time to witness the tail-end of the musical performance and the arrival of two strangers seated under a banner that read NBC10 News at 11!

At which point, I recall Dadda asking Maman, "Do you think Mouse wanted to watch Law & Order?"

And I remember Maman replying, as is her usual habit, with a long dissertation on The History Of Our Warren known amongst rabbits as Da Lore, listing all previous members of Our Warren who had ever "watched tellyvision" (whatever that means!) in the past.

After this long recitation, I believe that she and Dadda formed the opinion that I was to be brought into the Sitting Room when my friends from Law & Order were next expected to arrive.

This was, I additionally believe, to be done by way of a "test" to see if this was what I "expected"!

The following evening, I was sitting in my habbytat in the Noo Bun Room, quietly enjoying some carefully selected strands of premium Timothy Hay, when Dadda entered the room, and without preamble, began to tug and pull at my habbytat as though it was some kind of mobile vehicle!

Then Maman joined him, and calling out to me, "Hang on, Mouse!"

And whilst repeating this inane remark, the two of them wheeled me out of the Noo Bun Room, through the room known as the Kitchen, over a carpet and through an additional room known as the Dining Room, bumped me over an other carpet and down long, narrow room known as The Hallway and maneuvered my habbytat (with me inside, holding on for dear life!) into the Sitting Room.

There, I was taken from my habbytat and seated on Maman's lap on the sofa, and the box across the room was turned on.

I moved from Maman's lap at once to find my own cushion. Let the record show that I pay attention to my friends and do not like being distracted by a lot of what hoomins call "petting" while I am visiting with my friends from Law & Order.

Maman was consuming some kind of small squares of cereal, so I nipped her to remind her to share, which, to her credit, she did.

And then, after some totally useless business about hoomin forms of transportation and "zoom-zoom" with very loud, crass music, I heard the theme-song announcing the arrival of my friends in Law & Order.

I must say, I was very, very touched and pleased to see them again!

The detectives, Green and Fontana, are still chasing bad guys through the streets of New York City. I must say that Det. Green looks very well, and I am lost in admiration at Det. Fontana's splendid sense of fashion!

Jack McCoy is still prosecuting criminals in the justice system and serving as an inspiration to youngbuns everywhere. His sense of duty and tireless public service have certainly inspired me to work hard within RIFRAF for justice and fairness for all animals, everywhere!

I sat still and watched my friends in Law & Order for the entire hour they were with us, side on (which is normal for rabbits as we do not share hoomin binocular vision) and without moving, except to eat my squares of cereal. Maman and Dadda concluded (correctly) that I enjoyed visiting with my friends and resolved to make it possible for me to visit with them each time they returned to the Sitting Room which more or less seems to average once-per-week (and sometimes more!).

Please allow the record to show how happy I am to see Law & Order friends again! They remind me of my old friend Dad From Liberia who took LuckieBun and me into his heart and cared so much for us that he found a good place like Our Warren for us when Bad Things Threatened our former happiness.

And, further, please allow the record to reflect how happy I am to be living with these nice, slightly dense hoomins who drive me around in my habbytat and care enough about rabbits in their nice, slightly dense way to try and understand things that, however strange they seem to them, bring happiness to small rabbits.

I would also like the record to show that I believe that The World needs smart people like the detectives and the Executive Assistant District Attorneys but I also believe that The World needs nice, slightly dense people in it, too; People of good will, and good intent, who are not afraid to love house-bunnies.

I, Mr Mouse of Our Warren, house-rabbit, swear that the above is the whole truth and nothing but the truth to the best of my knowledge and ability to relate.

Signed: Mr Mouse of Our Warren

Given this day, Friday, the twenty-first day of April, 2006.

George's 4th Strand, Day 18: Hay Diet
Now Playing: "It's The End Ob Da Werld As We Know It"

Wook at dis! I just found out dat inna space dat says "Now Playing" a "blogger" (which is whut I am) is s'sposed to putta name obba musicks dat illystrates dere mood or da mood ob dere posty. So I hadda wook around onna 'puter, found a song dat would sorta talk aboud whut I'm gonna post about and put it inna "Now Playing" line. So if you know dis song dat I put inna "Now Playing" line, (which is by some groop called "REM") you can sing along while you read this posty. Because dis title pretty much reflekts how Alla Us Togedder heer at Our Warren feel about Maman's Stoopit Hay Diet.

Oh, and by da way, I know whut da odder TOOL fings onna Blog Page are for, wike "Mood" (shows a smiley face fing) and "Topic" (puts stuff innu cattygories) but I don't use them onna'count obba fakt dat I fink dey are Not Needed By Bunnies. Mebbe hoomins want preddy, shiney tools, but I can't see da point ob dem for me. Sum fings just take up more space den dey are worf if you know how to use werds to say whut you rilly mean.

So on to my REAL TOPIC TIDAY which happins to be Whut Happined Last Nite.

I mean, if you know sumfing is coming, then you can sort ob prepare yourself for it, but when sumfing hits you wiffoud enny warning, den, well, you know, sumtimes those around you can hab "unhextpected reactions", lemme tell you.

And I can guess you could say that we knowed dis was coming because it had arrived bifore. But still.

It all started back wif Hawthorn who was husbun to Belinda Bunny who was Da Bunny who started so menny fings, inklooding dis Hay Diaries Blog.

Well, Wun Day, Maman notised dat Hawthorn and Hunny (who was Top Bunning at that time, cos he was still a YoungBun back den) were habbin' problems inna Pootie Departmint.

Now, ebberybunny knows dat All Problems Wif Pooties can be solved by HAY, so Maman anna V-E-T decided datta "Best Way" to make Hawthorn and Hunny feel bedder inna Pootie Departmint was to gib dem HAY to eat, alla time, and No Green Bag Pellets and worser, NO TREATS for awhile!

And, because each bunny, both Hawthorn and Hunny, had hungry wifebuns, the only way Maman could be sure dat dey would be eating ONLY HAY was to make sure that there was ONLY HAY inna habbytat to be eated. So she taked away ebberybunny's pellets and gibbed ebberybunny ONLY HAY to eat, which da V-E-T said, was hokay to do because pellets only make bunnies FAT!

Notis dat NO Bunnies were consulted during dis whole process ob creating a "diet" to make bunnies feel bedder!

Yeah.

Well, ennyways, Now, atta First Sign dat ennybunny in Our Warren ebben might be habbin' Pootie Problems, Maman starts Alla Us Togedder onna HAY DIET onna Theory dat It Will Help The Pootie Problems for da bunny habbin' dem, and even bedder for ebberybunny else, It Can't Hurt if ebberybunny else eats ONLY HAY!

So, ebben though we allus hab alla fresh Timothy Hay dat we wants, we now hab MORE OB IT!

Yeah. We gots mounds and mounds.

Dadda brought it in lastest nite, just afta he and Maman hadda look at Ms Clover's butt.

Now it is NOT Ms Clover's fault datta great big hair-pootie falled outta her butt. Beebe, her husbun has been sick and he can't groom her very well, and besides, she's about three times his size. As Dadda says, he needs to make chalk marks to know where he leebed off grooming her ennyways, and when he's sick, he don't habba prayer ob keeping up wif her in Shedding Season. She does hab very clean and well-groomed ears, though, so it's not like he's letting her go or ennyfing, but she does habba lotta loose fur, particuarly around her nether-regions which is hard to get to when you allus "begin atta beginning" obba bunny (which means da ears), so to speak, wike Beebe does.

So it's not Ms Clover's fault dat she has alla dis fur in her pootie system, and she is eating HAY to get rid ob it, which is why she hadda gynormous fur-pootie fall out, but then Maman and Dadda found it inna habbytat, and dat's when alla dis HAY-talk started.

Just mounds and mounds obba stuff.

And at furst when Dadda brought it in and put it in our habbytat, you know, Missy and I started burrowing unnerneaf ob it and tossing it around, and den, suddinly, Missy poked her nose up fru alla da hay, wooked at me and sed,

"Hey, waidaminit! Wheredaheck are alla da treats?"

And I'm wike, "Howdaheck do I know? I can't hardly see ennyfing onna'count ob alla dis hay Dadda put in here."

And Missy sort ob waded through da hay to where our pellet bowl is screwed innu da wall and wooked in and den wooked at me and demanded,

"And where's our pellets, huh?"

So I sort ob bulldozed my way to the frunt obba habbytat and periscoped up, and wooked ober at where Ms Clover and Beebe are, and they're up to their necks in Hay, too.

And Beebe called out, "YO!"

So I axted him if he'd seen da Raisin Can going around yet, and he just said "YO!" again, cos he wassa School Bunny for too long bifore he was rescued, and has fortygotten most obba Lagomorphan ebberybunny mostly knows.

So I axted Mr Mouse and he sed Maman and Dadda were gibbing Da Dawg his dinner and would probably hand out treats afta dat.

But den I heared Dadda say he was going Uppastairs to feed Da Catz, and den Da Light Dawned.

We were onna Hay Diet!

Well, just as I thought it, da same Light Dawned on MissyBun, and I thought she was gonna go inside out, she was that beside herself.

Her miniLop ears raised themselves until dey was standing out straight frum her head, and she looked like a heelycopter about to take off, and she stuck her big, white nose straight up inna air and yelled atta top ob her voice:

"Inna werds ob Belinda Bunny, I Can't Be Habbin' Wif Dis!"

And because I am not stoopid, I got myself buried unnerneaf ob dat hay, cos Missy proceeded to dismantle our habbytat. Toys started flying ebberywheres - furst da light balls-wif-bells-in, den da heavier Baby-Barrel-Rattle flew rite past my hed and banged innu da side obba habbytat. Den she started throwing her weight around, and Missy has some weight, lemme tell you! She swung her butt and sent dat Wadder Bowl skidding across the habbytat, and then she started attacking the Pootie Boxes inna corner wif both paws and her teeths.

And dat's aboud when Maman came innu Da Bun Room to see "whuttaheck alla fuss was aboud."

And Missy was so mad about suddinly being onna Hay Diet wif NO TREATS dat she kept on yanking and pulling atta pootie box wif both paws and her teeths, right in frunt ob Maman!

So I stuck my nose up outta da Hay and mentioned to Maman dat mebbe she bedder do sumfing about dis, onna'count obba fakt dat Missy was making a lotta noise and Missy could keep on making a lotta noise like dis all nite long, lemme tell you.

And Dadda commed down frum feeding Da Catz, and he sed, "I fink we'd bedder gib dem sum raisins."

And Maman wooked thoughtful for a minit, and den went toda cupboard and got da Raisin Can. And she gibbed Dadda sum raisins for Mr Mouse and gabe sum by hand to Ms Clover.

And Missy sort ob gave up onna pootie-pans when she seed da Raisin Can and sat sulking inna corner wif dis Dangerous Wook in her eyes.

And because I am not stoopid, I stayed where I was wif ebberyfing but my hed and ears buried inna HAY.

Now rite then, whin Maman started handing out raisins by hand, we should hab knowed sumfing was going on, but Ms Clover was busy gibbing Maman Da Royal Bunny-Bunny ob Displeasure to show how angry she was wif da whole HAY DIET ishoo, so she couldn't break form to say ennyfing, and Beebe, well, he's just Beebe, so all he did was call out, "YO!", when he gotted his raisins frum Dadda, and dat didn't mean much ob ennyfing to ennybun.

But Missy and I should hab guessed whuttaheck was gonna happin.

And we didn't.

So were WE ebber sus'prised and 'mazed whin Dadda stopped by our habbytat and handed us...

TWO.

We got TWO measley raisins! EACH!

And then Dadda closed the top ob our habbytat and said, "Nite, Bunnies!" and turned off the Bun Room Light.

And there's me, inna dark, blinking, and it's all silent, but it's that kind of silent that comes while you watch a firewerk going up inna sky. There's nuffin, justa spark travelling upward inna hurry, but you know the *bang* is in dere sumwheres.

And da firewerk's name was Missy and she hit me full-force inna butt, which is considerable whin you bemember she doesn't habba whole lotta room to get up speed.

So I piked myself up frumma corner and was, like, "Whuttaheck?"

And dat's whin she hit me a sekond time.

So I got up and took off afta her, because I am not a Baby Bunny ennymores and, wike Hunny sed, when you are Top Bunning, there's just so much ob dis Nonsence Dat You Are Willing To Take. And just like Hunny teached me, I yelled, "Shaddup, Missy!"

And we hadda widdle run-'round.

And then, afta it was quiet again onna'count ob Missy habbin' Blowed Off Steam, I heered Maman say to Dadda, "Whut's up wiffa rabbits, dear? Is sumfing wrong do you fink?"

And den I heered Dadda: "It's just George and Missy, love. They do love their hay."

And Missy mumbled, "Lunatics."

And Mr Mouse sed, "Idiots."

And Ms Clover had her mouf full, and being a lady, she didn't say ennyfing,

But Beebe sed, "YO!"

And dat's when I bemembered dis liddle song dat I put inna "Now Playing" sekshun for you to read: "It's The End Ob Da Werld As We Know It...and I feel fine..."

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

George's 4th Strand; Day Number 17
Now Playing: Pootie Promises

Yeah. Here we go again.

This Gardin stuff is gonna be The End obba'us all, lemme tell you. I know whut Maman promised Hunny, about having a Forever Rose Gardin ob his very own with her Grandmother's Birdbaf and Stone Rabbits and alla those things, but she had NO IDEA whut she was getting Alla Us Togedder into when she promised him, either.

This is mainly because Promises are like pooties foot-flicked into the water-bowl. At first, there's nothing happining, just the pootie lying there in the bottom obba bowl, but preddy soon, there's pootie all through the water.

And that's how it's been wif dis Gardin fing. At furst, there was just Maman, finking about it. Then there wassa Rose Bushes. Then Glubs. Then a Hat to keep the sun of her hed. Then Dadda Anna Traktor. Then Dadda, the Tracktor anna Tracktor House, then Dadda, the Tracktor, anna House Forda Tracktor's Stuff...

And now, dere issa Pwoblem Obba Dawg Anna Tracktor.

Now, Dadda comes frum sumplace in Inkland called da West Country, which is sumtimes called "Zummerzet" or "Devonsheer" (I don't fink it is spelled wike dat, but I'm going wif whut I heer). An alla Border-Collie Dawgs inna West Country LUBS to ride on Tracktors.

At least, dis is whut Dadda says.

He says dat ebbery Tracktor inna Zummerzet and Devonsheer comes complete wiffa collie-dawg eidder perched onna top, next toda driver, or else wiffa collie-dawg riding high onna trailer being towed along behind. And dat collie-dawgs libbing all ober in Zummerzet and Devonsheer just LUB to heer da sound obba Tracktor motor starting up because they know dat dis sound means they are going for a ride wif their Person.

Well, apparently dis only applies to Border Collie-dawgs libbing in Zummerzet and Devonsheer in Inkland, because it sure means nothing to Our Marc-the-Border-Collie-Dawg who is libbing here at Our Warren.

Marc HATES the Tracktor. He ebben HATES da liddle cart Dadda bought for him to ride along in behind da Tracktor.

And Dadda says he paid good munny for dat cart, too.

So ebbery time Dadda opins the doors toda Tracktor's House and starts up da Tracktor's motor, Da Dawg goes NUTZ! He Rushes atta Tracktor, and he Barks atta Tracktor and he Threatens it, and he Snarls and he even Bites atta Tracktor's tires!

And Dadda says if he keeps dat biznezz up, he's gonna gedda slap 'round'is ear, mister.

Anna Dawg is like, "Huh?"

And so, whinebber da Tracktor hasta come out, Maman makes Da Dawg go inside obba Houz where he lies down unnerneaf ob Missy and me and whines about being "Hextklooded" - which issa berry bad fing if you are a Dawg. Being "Hextklooded" is as bad for a Dawg as being OnAlone is for a bunny, you see, because it means that Your Pack Does Not Want You, and that You Are Not Part Of Your Family. It is a very, very sad fing to happin to a Dawg.

So on Saturday, Maman finally came toda Conclusion that since a collie-dawg's "natchural place" is onna Tracktor, Our Dawg was just misinformed and whut he needed wassa bit ob "de-sensitivity training". So she snapped a lead onna Dawg and told him he was gonna go meet da Tracktor and he was gonna Like It.

Anna Dawg was like, "Huh?"

And Missybun sed to me, "Y'know, dis has 'Disaster' written all ober it."

And I figgered Missy was rite, onna'count obba fakt dat, Maman has no sense ob balance enny more and walks wiffa stick, and here she is, attached by a string to a bouncy collie-dawg who Hasn't Gotta Kloo.

So I sed dat to Maman, but Maman sed, wike she was mind-reading (which is sumfing Mamans can do):

"Wookit, I used be around horses, and I figure if I could control a twelve-hundred pound horse when I was seventeen, I can control a border-collie when I'm three-or-four times older. Dawgs are exponentually - or something - smaller than horses, which, in reality are only very large rabbits with smaller ears and have hooves - and I can walk rabbits on a harness with no problem, so there's no reason in the world why I can't walk the Dawg..."

And Missy wooked at me and just shook her hed. And Ms Clover glanced up, and said, "I can't look. Maybe Beebe can look, but I can't look."

And Beebe just turned his back on the whole ishoo because he's not as dumb as ebberybun finks he is. And Mr Mouse glared, mainly because he's almost as good as Missy at recognising when Maman is drifting happily Up Da Estuary Wiffout Sufficient Means Ob Locomotion.

Well, you know, for once in her life, my big, beautiful bunwife was wrong!

She won't admit it, but it's TROO. Maman came in frumma yard still hokay anna Dawg did listen to her re-training stuff and stopped walking in her Hunny's Our Warren Forever Memorial Gardin and quit charging Dadda's Tracktor!

So that was good.

Whut wasn't so good was that a liddle later on, Maman went outta Back Door wif her camera, saying she hadda take some pikchurs for Auntie Grace-in-Kin-Tuck-Eee and Auntie Jane-in-Callyfornia. And preddy soon, we heered a scream, and Dadda comed running, and don't'cha know, Maman had falled ober inna Gardin!

Yeah!

She had gotted chased by a BEE! Wunna dose great big bumbly bees dat has no sting, and no bite had buzzed at her eye and it had skert her, and because she was skert, she had tried to run, and she had falled and twisted up herself so that she was hurt and Dadda hadda help her walk innu da Houz. Dey hadda Talk aboudda hospiddle, but Maman won and she is inna Sitting Room cos Dadda sed so.

So now her Promise to make dis special Forever Memorial Rose Gardin for dear, old, undemanding Hunny has turned out to affect ebberybun in Our Warren: Da Dawg is having to accept Dadda's Tracktor, da Catz are stuck uppastairs wifouts fusses, and we're stuck wif Maman hobbling around not "quite" catering to our needs while Dadda werks and waits on her.

Just like one pootie inna water-bowl - now it's got innu ebberyfing!

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

George's 4th Strand; Day Fifteen
Now Playing: The Day Bifore Easter - Hoomin Lore

Well, dere they go again.

Maman and Dadda anna Dawg. Out innu da Back Gardin.

Maman has her Pockit-Aprin and Gardin Glubs on, anna Dawg has his Toy and as MissyBun says, he's looking Hopeful, as usual.

You can't beat a Border Collie for Hopeful. They are the most Hopeful Dawgs onna planet, Maman says. Zachary-Marcus is allus hoping sumbun is gonna play Ball wif him. He's so Hopeful dat he's gotten his Toy outta his Toy Basket at Elebben O'Clock at NITE, axting Dadda to frow it so they can play Ball inna Gardin.

Can you beleeb dat?

Well, it's happined.

You sure can't beat that Dawg for being Hopeful.

So he's gone Outside and taken his Toy wif him, even though it preddy much looks to Alla Us Togedder like Maman and Dadda are gonna go Werk Inna Gardin.

It rained last nite and Maman sed she hasta go wook at her Dill. I dunno whut da Dill is s'sposed to be doing, but she sed she hasta go look at it. She planted sum just bifore the rain onna'count obba fakt that you are s'sposed to plant Dill just bifore it rains, becos rain ennergizes the seeds so they grow more.

That's whut she sed.

Well, ennyfing that makes there be more Dill for us to eat issa Good Fing.

And Dadda sed he hasta "enlarge" Hunny's Memorial Rose Gardin ebber since Maman sed she wants to put inna Antique Birdbaf that usta be her Grandmother's. So Dadda taked sum string and sum sticks anna measuring tape outside wif him. And he's alreddy called us "Buggers" inna good-humoured kinda way, so you can preddy much tell dis is gonna be a Somerset kinda morning.

Did I mention dere are eggs boiling onna stove? The place stinks wike eggs. Apparently Maman is gonna colour eggs for dinner tomorry. I hab no cloo why. She telled Dadda dis is whin she misses eidder being a grandchild or habbin' dem. I dunno which.

And dere issa wotta Chocolate candy and stuff in bags downnastairs inna Pantry dat she is not telling Phil about onna'cout obba fakt he will eat it. He's 'parently s'sposed to eat it, but not 'till she says so. Or sumfing. She hasta get it innu baskits, she sed.

Dadda made a Big Deal aboudda "Cadbury Eggs", too, and I hadda break it to him gently dat Bunnies don't lay eggs. (Dere are times whin I rilly fink tellyvision is a berry bad fing, no madder whut Mouse says aboudda "Law & Order" shows.)

And Maman is wanting Dadda to go to sumplace called da Cathedral tomorry, too.

I fink whut I'm seeing heer is sumfing frum Maman's being a widdle girl, dat "Easter" is prob'ly a bigger deal for her den ebben dat "Chrissymus" is for most hoomins. And I fink it has to do wif her Lore.

Ebben hoomins hab dere Lore, just like Rabbits do, and it mite be as strong and also be handed down frum wun person to anudder in doing fings like planting Dill just bifore da rain, hiding chocolate candy, and putting a birdbaf out inna gardin.

At least dat's whut I fink.

----- By George

George's 4th Strand; Day Number 14
Now Playing: Lent
So tidday I was reading e-mail and I ound a flag on dis wun in Maman's "InBox":

"Are yoo not doing hay diaries no more George? - Loopy Bunny"

And I wint downnastairs to where Maman was folding laundry and I axted her, "Hey! Whuttaheck is happing around heer? Aren't I keeping up wif The Hay Diaries Blog ennymore?"

And Maman stopped folding Dadda's PetBunny Anniversary shirt and wooked at me and sed, "Well, I habba contract to edit dat book for somebunny."

So I sed, "And dis effects me, exactly, how?"

And Maman finked fora sekond and den she sed, "Well, it prob'ly doesn't. Mebbe you gabe up typin' The Hay Diaries for Lent."

So I finked aboud dis, and den realised I didn't know whuttaheck she meant by da werd "Lent". So I axted, and she 'splained dat Lent is when Christians, specifically Anglican Christians (which we happen to be), gib up sumfing so they know whut it is like to hab to go wiffout sumfing dat is 'portant to dem.

And I sed to Maman, "Wookit. I know alla'bout going wiffoud stuff dat is 'portant to me. I wassa Easter Dump, bemember? I got left inna empty cardboard box, all OnAlone, inna V-E-T's office 'till you came and piked me up to come and lib in Our Warren. Ebben if I amma Anglican bunny, I don't need to gib up stuff onna'count ob Lent in order to know whut not habbin' stuff is alla'bout. A whole lotta us hab Lent alla time and we didn't ebben axt for it!"

And Maman folded anudder shirt and she sed, "Dis is troo. But it is good dissyplin to bemind ourselves to be grateful for what we hab by not habbin' it."

So I added, "Mebbe dat werks for hoomins, but bunnies is dif'frunt. We hab to go a wotta times wiffoud fings and are preddy amazed whin fings go right. Wike take my pal Norman who libs in Callyfornia. So much has gone wrong in his life dat he can't beleeb stuff is actually going right for him for a change! No wonder he isn't doing binkies and rushing around trying to be a sweetbun and get pets alla time. He's preddy much convinced dat since hoomins hab allus failed him inna past and sent him away to shelters, Auntie Carla isn't going to be enny dif'frunt."

And Maman sed, "But YOU know Auntie Carla IS dif'frunt. Your pal Norman is in his Forever Home now. He's not going to be dropped off at a shelter again."

So MissyBun, who was habbin' da folded laundry stacked on top ob her habbytat poked her hed up between Dadda's tee shirts anna stack ob towels and sed, "Wookit Wady, whut about Our Beebe? He started out assa School Bunny, getting poked wif pencils an' teased by a bunch ob kids an' bein' left ober weekends inna fishtank, an' bein' sent home to be wif families dat didn't know ennyfing aboud habbin' bunnies, and fed all kinds ob junkfoods dat wassn't good for him. An' den he got taked by a student-teacher cos nobunny wanted him an' he hadda lib inna noisy dorm inna tiny, widdle cage an' he still didn't ged enny proper food. An' DEN he got parked wif sum rilly stoopid hoomins in sumplace in Marywand where sumbunny joined a e-list just to get sumbunny else to come take him offa dere hands.

"An' he's s'sposed to 'gib up sumfing' for Lent? How menny years was he 'Not Wanted'? Mebbe he culd gib up sum ob does years. He doesn't ebben know how old he is or where he was borned! He doesn't ebben know his right name. He came here knowing his name was Letter B, Letter B, but he didn't know whutta letters stood for. All he knew was dat he was afraid ob hands an' hadda attack dem, an' dat he couldn't trust nobun. Wook how long it took for him to trust Ms. Clover! And mostly all he can bemember to say is 'Yo!'

"How long did Our Beebe hab nuffin'? For almost his whole life, until he got to Our Warren. So why shuld he hab to gib up ennyfing now? He's a Senior Bun, and he's sick an' ebben Doctor Sharin can't find out whuttsamatta wif him. And just cos it's dis Lent fing, do you rilly fink Beebe shuld hab to gib up ennyfing when he can't ebben bemember enuf stuff to gib enny ob it up?"

And den MissyBun plopped down and went to sit on her pootie-box as she does when she's upset about sumfing.

So I waited a minit for Maman to pet her, and den I sed, "Da fing is, Lent is hokay for hoomins, I guess, if you mebbe hab a wot and hab fortygotted whut it is wike not to hab ennyfing. Or mebbe it is hokay to gib up sumfing if it won't mess up sumfing for sumbun else. Budda fakt is, Easter is comin' on Sunday and sum hoomins might still be finking dat buying a baby bunny rabbit for a kid is cute. Or dat buying a baby bunny for dere kid will make dere kid love dem. Or dat buying a baby bunny for dere kid will be a 'memorable 'sperience forda whle family' or sumfing.

"Now Belinda Bunny telled me I couldn't grow old, dat I hadda grow 'Tellygint. And wunna da fings I hab learned is dat Bunnies And Easter Don't Go Together! Knowing dis is part of growing 'Tellygint. And I hab to use da Blog to tell about it, so mebbe some hoomin sumwheres will tell anudder hoomin sumwheres not to buy a baby bunny for alla wrong reasons.

"Da point is, I can't go gibbin' uppa Blog for Lent cos I don't fink dat's da kinda Lent I'm s'sposed to be habbin, lemme tell you."

And Maman wooked at me, and she wooked at MissyBun sitting inna pooty-box, frowning, and she sighed.

"You are right, George." Maman sed.

So she pikt me up and put me inna empty laundry basket and carried me back uppastairs toda Study and heer I am, typin' in Belinda's The Hay Diaries Blog.

And Alla Us Togedder here at Our Warren are urging ebberybun to visit this link:
Make Mine Chocolate! to learn HOW and WHY to Make Mine Chocolate! this Easter and ebbery Easter!

Because as Our Hunny's Friend, the Rev. Dr. Virginia M. Sheay sed, "We are stewards, not owners of the planet."

----- By George

George's Third Strand; Day Number 7
Now Playing: Please Make Mine Chocolate!
Ebberybunny NEEDS to see dis:






Please, please, please go to dis link and read da stories heer. Just do it. It's IMPORTANT.

Fank you.

Frum your friend at Our Warren,

George,
a formerly dumped EasterBunny

George's Third Strand, Day Number 6
Now Playing: WERK!
Maman is not oppyrating at full cap-a-city. I fink dis FLOO did sumfing to her and it might be, you know, kinda obba permenate natchur.

She has spent da whole morning trying to edit Belinda's Blog entries onna'count obba fackt dat dere is sum people yelling at her to hurry up and make them presentable for sum business fing.

Maman was down heer saying, "Business has nuffin to do wif art." and axting me, "George, whut issa price ob art?"

Well, I am not 'Tellygint enuf to know da answer to dat one, so I didn't say ennyfing. I gen'rally don't try to say ennyfing when she is axting these type ob questions because there is No Point. She is not inna mood to listen, or if she does listen, she is just gonna start a rilly, rilly long argument and not do whatever it is that she doesn't want to do ennyways.

Hoomins are wike dis: you cannot make a hoomin do what it doesn't want to do.

And Maman doesn't wike to edit stuff.

And dat is preddy much dat.

She specially doesn't wike to edit Belinda's stuff, onna'count ob she hasta use split screens onna 'puter, and develop a consistant glossery ob terms which means that she will hab to rilly unnerstand Lagomorphin (which is a bunny's native language) instead ob only pretending to do.

In udder werds, Maman is gonna hab to rilly werk> and dis issa pawt of werking dat she doesn't wike habbin to do.

So she's down heer axting questions and, lemme tell you, I am NOT getting involved in trying to gib her enny answers cos there aren't enny!

Now before Maman got this FLOO fing, she was preddy good about werking and was going about it inna preddy reg'lar way. Dis is how I know aboutta "split screens" onna 'puter and all, cos I was Upstairs inna Study while she is doing dis Editing fing and hab seed it all going on. Maman wikes bunny-company while she is werking and I wike being wif her when it is just her and me. Nobun else.

So I know about alla stuff dat goes on wif Maman dat udders don't.

And I know alla questions she axts when she gets tired and cranky - alla questions about "ART" and alla dat stuff. (Which is how I know dat dere are no answers to her questions.)

But since she gotted dis FLOO, she hasn't bin doing much werk. She has mostly stayed Downnastairs, inna Sitting Room, wrapped up inna Quilt. She mostly doesn't want to eat and only drinks watter. And she doesn't want much company, ebben bunnies, and she gets berry tired, berry fast.

She says she ought to be ober da FLOO by now, 'cept dat she isn't, or else she would be back Uppastairs inna Study doing werk.

But she is not.

She is down heer, axting me stuff to ged her offa hook so she doesn't hab to werk.

Well, dis bunny wasn't borned yestidday. She can axt me all she wants aboudda rellytib price ob Art, anna alla that philosophical stuff, and I am gonna keep on sitting on dis pootybox, looking very wise and inscrutable.

Because I may not be 'Tellygint, but I'm sure not stoopit.

--------- By George

George's Second Strand; Day Number 26
Now Playing: Heer We Go Again

And you thought whut happined yestidday was bad.

Well, it's still happinin tidday, and there's sum stuff I fortygot to add in yestidday that happined bifore that is still affecting us now and that will prob'ly continue to affect whut is gonna keep happinin around heer at Our Warren for sum time to come, which is still preddy much still going on...

Lemme tell you.

So where was I yestidday when I left off so I can begin about whut's happinin tidday?

Oh yeah - Dadda was Driving Toda Rescue ob Phil-da-Lad who had sumhow managed to Rent Da Wrong Truck That He Could Not Drive Frumma'nudder State and had Runned Ober A Gas Station (and Maman had *nuffin* to do wif ENNY ob this particular mess this time, bemember!).

So.

Dadda called Maman wast nite while Mr Mouse was still angry and upset onna'count obba fakt dat "Law & Order" was STILL not onna tellyvishion because there were Olympics on it instead.

And Dadda called Maman to tell her that:

1.) It was not a 30 foots-long Truck that Phil-da-Lad couldn't drive that he had Runned Ober da Gas Station, it wassa 24 foots-long Truck, but that Dadda didn't measure it the same way as udder hoomins who did not come frum Inkland measured Trucks, which was Part Obba Problem.

2.) Da Udder Part Obba Problem was dat Phil-da-Lad hadn't done ennyfing so much ennyways and Dadda had buyed Inshurance fordat, cos he issn't Stoopit.

So there was One Problems, Sorted Out and Solved.

So Dadda had drived the Truck back to Phil's Old 'Partmint and Phil anna Rent-A-Teens loaded it up wif Stuff. They also loaded up wif Three Catz, which are:
KayCee, Queen ob Kitties
Toby, Fat-Cat-Wannabe, and
Munchkin/Mischief (who issa pain-inna-butt).
And Furby da Hammie(ster).

And Dadda was going to go to bed, onna'count obba fakt dat he was tired.

So he did.

So Maman comed out innu da Kitchen and filled uppa sink wif hot wadder and began Washing Up.

Anna rite-aboud-THEN, the Catz showed up, cos it was time for Food.

And, ob course, Da Dawg showed up, too, mainly because the Catz did, and he hadda make shure that they weren't gonna get ennyfing dat he wassen't gonna gedda look in, too.

And we were innerested in whut was going on onna'count ob it was Treat Time, which issa Most Impawtant Time obba day at Our Warren.

So Maman filled uppa sink wif suds stuff and put alla bowls in to soak. And then she went ober to Mr Mouse and piks him up outta his habbytat and axts him,

"Whutsmatta wif my widdle Mouse-ums?"

Which he doesn't particuarly like being called, but because he's been in dere grunting, "Law-and-Order, Law-and-Order, Law-and-Order!" and bouncing up-and-down like a little black steam engine for most obba nite, he's prepared to deal wif just onna'count obba fakt dat he's happy to be out and sitting on Maman's shoulder, since Dadda's shoulder isn't currently available.

And, so, Maman started off downna hallway toward Da Sitting Room, wif Mouse clinging toda collar ob her bafrobe and his little ears stickin' up ober her shoulder.

And onna way, Mouse is grunting: "Law-and-Order! Law-and-Order! Law-and-Order!" as they're walking along.

And as they get toda doorway obba Sitting Room, I hear Mouse go, "Law-and-Ord-WhuttahackisDAT?"

And I hear Maman say, "How do you like your Noo TeeVee, MouseyWouse?"

And then I hear her say,

"Mouse? Mouse. Mouse, get your head out of my pocket. Here, turn around...Mouse...Mouse...Lookit your noo...Mouse...HEY! Mouse!"

And then Mouse is yelling his head off: "It's SNOWING IN HEER! NO, I WON'T GO! I WON'T GO! TAKE ME BACK! PLEASE!"

And Maman is, like, "Look, you stoopit rabbit, it's your Noo Tellyvishion set! Will you get your head out of my pocket? No, Mouse, not that way...Mouse...Turn around, Mouse...MOUSE! NOT DOWN MY NIGHTGOWN!"

And right about then, Da Dawg, attracted by alla yellin' going on, barks atta Cokie-Cat, who is not inna Best Ob Moods (onna'count ob not habbin' seen enny food yet).

And Maman shouts: "LETGOA MY HAIR, MOUSE!"

And now she's coming full-steam back downna hallway, wif bof hands on her hed, anna Dawg trailin' along behind waring sum kinda stoopit lopsided happy-grin.

AND he's wagging his tail and dancing.

And Maman's whispering, "ShaddupYouStoopitDawg!ShaddupShaddupShaddup..." and she's holding up Mouse uppabove her head, and Mouse is hanging on to her hair wif all four feets like Grim Death.

So she gets toda Bun Room, slides to a stop onna linoleum floor, kneels down in frunt ob Mouse's habbytat, sticks her hed inna door, and he makes a flying leap innu his his pootybox and stays there.

And Maman slams his habbytat door shut and den just sits there, onna floor, breathing kinda hard, and Mouse is sitting inna pootybox, and he's breathing kinda hard, anna Dawg is clogging uppa doorway toda Bun Room, keeping the Catz out, and wagging his tail and breathing kinda hard cos he's Stoopit and finks dis is all Sum Kinda Weird And Wunnerful Noo Game called "Chase Da Maman".

And, ob course, Cokie-da-Fat-Cat ambles up toda doorway, slides to a halt, snuffles da Dawg and den sneezes rite in his face. And just about den, Beep-da-Stoopit-Cat slinks unnerneaf obba Dawg and goes to see whut's been dropped unner Clover and Beebe's habbytat.

So finally Maman pulls herself togedder and gets to her feets and goes back out innu da Kitchin and wiffout saying much ob ennyfing, goes back to washing alla Food Bowls like nuffing much has happined.

'Cept that she's banging a whole lotta stuff around and making a lotta noise while she's doing it.

And it gets Rilly Quiet inna Whole Houz, 'cept for Maman, banging Stuff around.

Anna Dawg gets his food.
Anna Catz get their food.
And we get fresh wadder.
And we get fresh pellets.
And we get salads.

Anna Dawg gets to go Outta Back Gardin Door to visit his Pootybox Inna Sky.

And Maman still isn't saying ennyfing.

And Missy says to me, rilly quiet-like: "It is berry cold on my butt when Maman opins dat door."

And I sed: "Well I don't smell enny snow. Do you?"

And she says: "No. I just feel a draft. So whuttaheck was Mouse yellin' aboutta snow for?"

So I called ober to Mouse, rilly quiet-like: "Hey Mouse! Whut happined wiffa snow inna Sitting Room?"

And he calls back to me: "You know how there usta be a tellyvishion where I watched 'Law & Order'? Well, now its gone. Now there's just a Hole Inna Wall, and it's snowing! Maman tried to Release me out innu da Gardin innu da SNOW!"

And I shaked my ears. "Well, dat can't be rite. Maman RESCUES bunnies. She doesn't Release bunnies to die outside inna cold and snow."

And Mouse says, all sad and sorrowful: "She must not want me."

And den Clover waggles her ears and says: "Mouse, dat's just STOOPIT! You know Maman wants you! Lemme axt you sumfing - whin you were inna Sitting Room, did you feel a Cold Draft up your butt?"

And Mouse thought for a sekond and then he answered, "No. Didn't feel enny drafts."

And Missy axts him: "Did you SMELL enny snow onna air?"

And Mouse finks for a momint and den he answers: "No. I didn't smell ennyfing 'cept datta Dawg anna Fat-Cat hab bin toda Spa..."

And Missy says: "Fank goodness for dat! Stoopit Catz smell wike old bafroom rugs!"

"Well," says Clover, "I don't fink you were ennywhere's NEAR being 'Outside', Mouse. I fink sumfing else happined."

And Mouse shook his head and says, "Wookit, I know whut I saw, and it was SNOW! A whole lotta SNOW!"

And den Maman comed back innu Da Bun Room.

And she stopped by Mouse and gibbed him FIVE currents!

And den she wooked at him for a minit and she says:

"Bemind me to never again to spend eleven hunnert dollars onna noo thirty-six inch, flat-screen, high-deffynition, stereo tellyvishion for you to watch 'Law & Order', rabbit. And on the off chance that I do, bemind me not to tune it into Olympic Downhill Skiing when I show it to you for the first time!"

-------- By George

George's Second Strand; Day Number 25
Now Playing: Life In the Fast Lane

You know, there are days when I just sit here at dis 'puter wif nothing to type, and nothing 'markable is going on in alla Our Warren, and there is not a single thought happening ennywheres in my whole hed - when I couldn't catch an idea wiffa net if I had one...

And then there's days wike this one.

It's eidder feast or famine around heer, lemme tell you.

It's kinda been like this:

1.) Maman waked up atta beginning obba week and there was Sumfing Berry Wrong Wif Her. She walked innu Da Bun Room and kinda stood dere inna doorway, swaying gently, 'till Dadda came and taked her back innu Da Bedroom and called The Hoomin V-E-T.

And that's how Maman got Kwar-en-teened, which meant dat nobunny could come innu da House and only Da Dawg could go outside onna'count ob he has his pootie-box out there.

And Maman had to Stay-In-Bed, which she don't like much.

Den Dadda sed he didn't feel so good, eidder and he got back innu bed, too.

Den Cokie-da-Fat-Cat sed he needed to be inna bed, anna Dawg sed, "No Way, Fatboy!" and there wassa preddy good Argu-mint dat got going inna Bedroom, onna bed, on top ob where Maman and Dadda were s'sposed to be sleeping, right around Three O'Clock Inna Morning, which Dadda ended when he flinged Cokie way, high up-inna-air outta da Bedroom, innu da Hall.

So that was Bad Enough.

And it gets worse.

2.) The Olympics is still on. Which means that there has been no "Law & Order" onna tellyvishion for over a week. So you know Mr Mouse is pissed.

Maman tried letting him watch the Olympics, but Mr Mouse sed that its just a bunch of people playing inna snow, and he can't see da point innit. So he doesn't want to watch. Den Maman put on some show called "'Murrican Idle" and Mouse sed that was a "load of bollards" and boring (which I can agree wif - I mean, who wants to see traffic cones onna tellyvishion? You can see stoopit fings standing around ebberywheres wiffoud habbin to turn onna tellyvishion.).

So Mouse is inna rilly BAD mood, and since Mouse is nebber inna rilly GOOD mood, things heer are whut you'd call "preddy darned GRIM." He ebben grunts whin Da Dawg just passes by and waves his tail da wrong way.

But - it gets worse...

3.) And Phil and Alanna are moving to their Noo 'Partmint this weekend.

Ob course, enny equation wif "Phil-da-Lad" as one ob da components is bound to screw up. Phil issa Lightning Rod For Disaster. He's not sumbun you meet so much as sumfing dat happins to you if you're not rilly, rilly careful. It's not dat there's ennyfing wrong wif Phil - dere's not. He's a perfectly nice young man and is wunnerful to all animals - it's just dat disasters know his address and visit him often.

So he found a lubly 'partmint and Dadda arranged for him to hire a truck in which to move alla his stuff. So The Truck was s'sposed to be ready for collection last nite, only it wasn't, so it was ready dis morning, but in anudder State (Dadda managed to hab dis mess up all on his own and Maman didn't ebben innerfear or ennyfing) so Phil-da-Lad wif Da Rent-A-Teens (who are no longer "Teens", but whutdaheck) went along to pick up dere truck so dey could pack alla boxes from Phil and Alanna's old place and drive alla stuff toda Noo Apartmint.

So...

Well, da phone just rang, and Maman answered it, and dere's Phil onna udder end, screaming.

Seems datta truck Dadda ordered isn't da truck dat they got. Instead obba truck Phil can axtchually DRIVE what he's got is sumfing 30 foots long dat don't bend inna middle or sumfing and Phil has just runned it ober a gas-station.

Or sumfing.

Ennyways, da gas-station guy is being unnerstanding onna'count ob dis has happined before wif Wrongly Rented Trucks.

Den Dadda got onna phone wif Phil and there was sum more screaming back and forth aboudda "trucks", "The Naby" and, "Whuddyamean 'Only in a straight line'?"

So Dadda (who knows about driving Trucks if he has to) is on his way Three Hours Away To The Rescue, while Maman stays at home being Kwar-en-teened, while Phil is holed up atta gas-station he just rolled ober, habbin' a nerbous-breakdown inna 30 foots-long truck He Can't Drive.

And Mouse still can't watch "Law & Order" and is taking it out onna Dawg (who hasn't gotta cloo).

Maman sed dere is no way Dadda's gonna make it home tonight, so it's just Alla Us Togedder being Kwarenteened and whutnot, and dat dere is no way she can make da Olympics go away or put "Law & Order" back onna tellyvishion, so Mouse is gonna hab to "Get Over It".

That'll happin.

And she's brought in a BIG armload ob hay for ebberybun, dumped it in our habbytats, set out food forda Catz, closed da Bedroom door, and put a Quilt, da phone, sum tissues, her meddysin anna box ob crackers byda settee inna Sitting Room and sed,

"Dat's It! I'm done!"

So heer we are.

I'll let you know if ennyfing else happins...

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

George's Second Strand; Day Number 12
Now Playing: SNOW!


It's Snowing at Our Warren!

Yeah.

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.

So.

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

Share This Post

Post Comment | Permalink