The Hay Diaries
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Thursday, 18 May 2006
George's Fifth Strand: Day Number 18

Time does fly, lemme tell you!

Do you know, dat whin Belinda Bunny furst typed in dis The Hay Diaries it was more den TWO YEARS ago?

Yeah!

So we bunnies hab been up and running onna WerldWideWeb for longer den MOSTEST hoomins.

Dat's rite. I know dis onna-count ob reading an article wif Maman dat sed datta "average (hoomin, mind you) blog lasts for THREE to SIX MONTHS."

So dis morning, Maman and I gotted up inna Dark and comed uppastairs heer, and began to Edit my Christmas Story. Do you bemember it? It wassa story called George's Christmas Story dat was so long dat it hadda run ober THREE WHOLE DAYS onna-count obba fakt dat it was too long to go innu ONE blog entry. Mostly, it wassa story about How Belinda Bunny Builded Da Widdle Welcome Houz Atta Rainbow Bridge Whin Me,Hunny Was Headin' Dat Way." It was meant to be reassuring, so dat hoomins won't hab to be afraid for dere bunnies when dey leeb heer forda Rainbow Bridge.

You know, a lotta hoomins are skert aboudda bunnies who leeb heer for The Rainbow Bridge. They fink dat their bunnies might not be 'llowed to go enny place nice, or dat after dey leeb heer there might be nuffin'. But dey allus remark uponna fakt dat we bunnies don't seem skert obba Black Rabbit at all.

Well, dat's because we're not.

Anna reason dat we bunnies aren't skert is onna'count obba fakt dat we see da Black Rabbit dif'fruntly den hoomins see him.

Hoomins see Da Death ob Rabbits - sumfing wike a skellyton obba rabbit dressed up inna black robe, wif bloo fire for eyes and carrying a big, sharp scythe to sever the thread dat connects da soul obba bunny frumma Land Obba Living.

Dis is onna'count obba fakt dat hoomins hab dif'frunt Lore.

Hoomins gotta Death-cuttin'-dem-off-fruma-place-dey-know in their Lore and we gotta Lore dat tells aboudda Black Rabbit who leads us from Heer to There.

Dere issa huge dif'frunce between getting "cut off" frumma only place you know and being "led". frum Heer to There, you know?

So dat's Wun Fing.

Anna'nudder Fing issat dere are a wotta hoomins who spend a wotta time typin' buks and stuff, saying "Hey wookit! Dere is nuffin' greater den US." and "Anyfing dat is not hoomin is Less."

Well, I hab sumfing to say aboud dis.

You know, Bunnies are not famous writers. Dis is not because we habbin't had ennyfing to say. Dis is because we hab not been able to write fings down for ennybun to read. In fakt, we hab bin silent not through choice, but through enforcement onna'count obba fakt dat we did not have "Posable Thumbs" and couldn't use either pencils or pens to write our thoughts down on paper!

It wasn't until da 'Puter came along, wif its keyboard, where we could use our paws to spell out werds in Inkwish and in udder languages, dat we could begin to express our thoughts and feelings. It wassa 'Puter dat set us free to communnykate wif udder species on sumfing wike an equal footing. Bifore da 'Puter, we bunnies had no voice!

And sadly, menny bunnies still hab no voice. Dees are da bunnies who are sitting in shelters, who are waiting in rescues and foster homes, who are sitting inna Deep Dark, out of sight and out of mind, living in horrible conditions because their owners hab sed, "It's just a bunny." and they no longer care. Menny bunnies are silent and suffering and they hab no Advocate. No one to speak for dem, except for us - those of us who have been rescued and hab 'puters and who hab lerned how to use them.

But ebben does bunnies, libbin inna Deep Dark and Despair, does poor bunnies still hab Hope because they know that, someday, they will meet the Black Rabbit as one meets an old friend, and that they will go with him to a Great Warren over The Rainbow Bridge, and they'll be happily s'susprised to meet Belinda Bunny and to seeda sign dat says, HAB SUM HAY onna'count obba fakt dat nobunny has ebber invited dem to hab sum hay, or boddered to share wif dem bifore.

But dey know to be patient and to allus hab Hope, no matter whut hoomins say. Bunnies hab a long history ob being silent. We hab only had 'Puters a berry short while, so we habba wotta catching-up to do inna typing depawtmint.
Da few ob us who habba voice are trying to grow 'Tellygint and gedda message out dat Bunnies Are Wunderful Companion Animals
EXCEPT:
Bunnies are NOT good pets for children
Bunnies are NOT a food-source
Bunnies are NOT a fashionable fur-source
Bunnies do NOT belong in laboratories
Bunnies ARE INDOOR only pets and should NOT live in cages!

But it is hard to tell alla dis so dat hoomins hear. When dere minds say, "Bunnies are silent creatures." they don't believe it when they read bunnies' werds.

But bunnies know. Dey unnerstand more den hoomins realise - and hoomins realise dis ebbery time dey wook innu a bunny's eyes. Dey see dat bunnies unnerstand and dey wonder, "How do bunnies know?"

Gib us time. We will tell you.

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

Posted by Our Warren at 8:29 AM EDT
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Tuesday, 16 May 2006
George's Fifth Strand; Day Number 16
Now Playing: We're still finking aboud dis wun, folks...

Well, it seems dat Our Back Gardin is gonna be a-changin'. And dat's hokay wif us bunnies cos Maman sed it's gonna look preddy darned good when its all done:

Two oak trees (one ob dem wif pins)
A noo pikit fence wif gates

And afta that Maman's been wheedling Dadda aboud fixing uppa Screen Porch for us bunnies.

So yestidday, Da Dawg hadda be inside obba Houz most obba day onna'count obba fakt dat it was raining quite a lot, and he came out innu da Bun Room and sed:

"Hey George BunnyRabbit. I'm bored. Dere's nobun to play wif and it's raining. Issis your fault, too?"

And I'm, wike, "Huh? Whut'cha mean issa rain and you being bored da Bunnies' fault?"

Anna Dawg sat down and tried to kick-start his brain wif his back paw for a sekond, and den continued,

"Well, ebberyfing happins around heer a'ffeks me sumhow, and it's all cossa you bunnyrabbits. Furst, Maman takes ober dis room and makes it innu a Room for Bunnies Only, and I end up habbin' to be OnGuard alla time to Keep da Catz Outta Da Bun Room. Den Maman plants a Gardin cos ob Me, Hunny Rabbit, and den I get yelled at for digging innit. Now Dadda just told me dere are mens coming to cut down da swamp maple trees where I chase squirrels up, and dat it will take down part ob my fence where I pee to let dat Penny Dawg nextest door know dat dis is My Yard, and Maman says I'm gonna hab to be taken for walks until a Noo Fence is 'stalled around "Our Warren's Back Gardin". And now Maman's talkin' aboud 'Rennyvating' da Screen Porch where I wike to sit 'Forda Bunnies To Hab Sum Play Area' and I just know dat's gonna mean I am gonna be messed around wif or hab to gib up sumfing so she can do her 'Rennyvating' for You Bunnies! So ebberyfing dat happins around heer, seems to wind up a'ffektin' me onna'count ob you. And I wanna know how dat happins, George BunnyRabbit."

And Da Dawg gibbed me da Border Collie S-t-a-r-e.

So I shifted around on my paws a widdle and gibbed whut he sed sum thot.

Because Da Dawg was rite: ebberyfing dat happined around heer at Our Warren did manage to inklood him, not to mention Da Catz, too.

"Ebben," added Da Dawg, "Beebe-Bunny!! being sik has managed to inklood me."

And he shifted his s-t-a-r-e ober to where Clover and Beebe were sitting in dere habbytat, contemplating dere hay.

"I mean, howcome issit dat whin it is time for Beebe to hab his meddysin," axted Da Dawg. "I hab to be put outside inna Back Gardin, wheather I wanna go outside to pee or not? And ebbery time, Dadda suckers me wif dat, 'Go count your squirrels, Markie!' and don'cha know, I keep falling for it? I mean, I know how menny squirrels are out dere inna Back Gardin, and I tell him ebbery time he tells me to count'em. I bark once for each squirrel cos dat is how a Dawg counts, and dere are three squirrels so I bark three times at each maple tree, cos dat is where dey lib. I mean, whut more does Dadda want ob me? I'm out dere, doin' my Job, ebben inna Dark, inna Nite, inna Rain - or not - just onna'count obba Fakt dat Beebe is habbin' his meddysin!"

And I sed, "Well, Maman did get Dadda to put inna Noo Back Porch Light so you could see your Gardin bedder."

Da Dawg nodded, "Well, dere is dat. But da Fakt is dat I'm stillgeddin' thrown out at Nite onna'count ob Beebe's meddysin, somehow."

"And you gedda cookie when you come inside again." I sed.

"Two cookies." Da Dawg corrected me. "I ged two, and I can count. Maman tried to fool me oncst by buying bigger cookies, but I wasn't falling for dat old one. Nope. I get two cookies whin I come In Frum Outside At Nite, no madder whut size cookies dey are. I am not a Stoopit Dawg."

"None ob us is Stoopit in Our Warren." I sed. "Afta all, we is Us."

"Dat's rite." Sed Da Dawg. "So howcome I godda go Out Inna Gardin when Beebe gets his mddysin, ennyways?"

And I scritched my ear wif my paw (whut Dadda calls "George Trying To Kick-Start His Brian") and thought aboud dat and den answered,

"I fink Maman is skert dat she will fall ober you or dat Dadda will drop Beebe or sumfing. So dey puts you outside onna'count ob dem being Old."

Anna Dawg sed, "Oh." And den he axted: "So whut's up wif dem taking down my trees, relocating my squirrels and removing my fence?"

And I hadda widdle Fink aboud dis, and den replied: "Well, I fink dat Dadda is Tired Ob Raking Leebs so he wants to hab Fewer Trees, anna only way he kin hab Fewer Trees is to ged rid ob sum obb'em, but Maman don't wanna ged rid ob enny obb'em, so he needs an hextcuse. And Maman wants to habba Noo Fence onna'count obba fakt dat she finks da Old Fence is berry ugly, but she needs a hextcuse to get rid obba Old Fence to replace it wiffa Noo Fence. So I heered Dadda talking to Maman abouddit, and she wikes alla trees, but Dadda don't. So Dadda pointed out to Maman datta way datta trees growed messed uppa Old Fence and didn't Maman wanna habba preddy Noo Fence? So dat was his hextcuse so dat he don't hab to rake alla leebs alla time, and it was also Maman's hextcuse for replacing da Old Fence wiffa Noo Fence. I don't fink bunnies, dawgs or kitties ebben ennered innu dere heds."

Anna Dawg sed, "You fink?"

And I sed, "Yeah." Cos I could bemember Maman and Dadda habbin wunna dere long, hoomin Talks aboudda Trees Inna Yard and how dey wanted to habba nice Pikit Fence inna "British Style" dat went Alla Way Around da "Property" and had Gates atta Frunt Walk, and atta DribeWay and alla dat stuff. But Maman sed it wuld be "Too Hextpensive" and Dadda sed "Well, da old fence hasta go ennyways." And Maman agreed, and sumhow, dey ended up figgerin' out dey had no udder choice den to get out da maple trees, take down da Old Fence and gedda Noo Pikit Fence dat dey wanted inna Furst Place."

"So why didn't dey just ged it cos dey wanted it?" Axted Da Dawg.

And I 'spected my toes and sed I didn't know. "Who kin figger out hoomins?"

"So whut aboudda Screen Porch?" Axted Da Dawg. "Whut's up wif dat?"

And I bemembered dat Maman was talking about "Anner-Ron-DakChairs" anna "Noo Rug" and about geddin' "X-Pens" and "Baby-Gates" so dat alla bunnies could be out onna Screen Porch togedder wifout Da Dage or Da Catz.

So I sed toda Dawg, "Well, dat's Maman again. She finks we bunnies are too Fluffy and need Hexstersize."

And dere wassa *Fump* assa Dawg pulled in his paws and collapsed innu a heap onna floor. And he wooked up at me wif his bloo eyes and sed,

"It's allus cossa DEM issn't it? Maman and Dadda. Dey come up wiffa Bright Ideas for Alla Us Togedder and sumhow or anudder, ebberyfing dey fink ob ends up screwing up fings up for Alla Us Togedder!"

"Yeah." I sed. "But you gotta admit dat dere heart is inna rite place: dey is allways finking whut wuld be best for us. Cos dey lub us."

"Yeah." Sed Da Dawg.

"And whin dey get it all done, we'll lub whut they've done." Sed me.

"Atta End Obba Day." Added Da Dawg.

And he and I sat dere, blinking at each udder, sort ob pondering onna Rellytib Stoopid-ness Ob Hoomins, in general, anna Rellytib Stoopid-ness Ob Our Hoomins, in particular.

Anna Dawg sed, "Well, it's good to hab bunnyrabbits around. I still ged two cookies whin I come Inside At Nite and I'm gonna habba Noo Pikit Fence to pee on. Dat's gonna be a Big Job, marking a whole Noo Pikit Fence. And it will be nice, sitting atta Baby Gate, catching da Breezes frumma Screen Proch while you BunnyRabbits are out dere running off your Fluffiness wiffout Da Catz boddering you. A Noo Rug and Noo Chairs will be nice, when Maman and Dadda manage to get it all done. But it will be a Right Mess while dey are werkin' onnit. As usual."

"Dey hab no Cloo." I sed, as I hadda quick wook at my udder foots. "Alla da fuss and bodder dat dey cause us onna'count obba fakt dat dey lubs us so much."

"None." Sedda Dawg. "As usual, no Cloo at all."

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

Posted by Our Warren at 10:40 AM EDT
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Thursday, 11 May 2006
George's Fifth Strand: Day Number 11
Now Playing: Don't Come Around Here No More - Tom Petty

Well, you know, for a number ob nights now, I bin hearing fings outside ob our houz, inna Our Warren Back Gardin.

Yes, I hab.

And because I amma Alarm Bunny in Our Warren, it is my job to sleep wif Wun Ear Opin at nite, and T*H*U*M*P RILLY LOUD if I hear ennyfing dat mite be Threatening Our Warren during da nite-time when we are all sleeping.

Dis is part ob being Top Bun in Our Warren.

Yeah. Me,Hunny, who usta be Top Bun obba Our Warren told me alla'bout dis before he went toda Rainbow Bridge, and I do my best to live up to whut he told me onna'count obba fakt dat he wassa berry wise and 'Tellygint Elder Ob His People, wike Dadda's friend, Kutee, said. Hunny was Thirteen Anna Half Years Old when he left forda Rainbow Bridge. I am Two Years Old - I hab a long way to go before I will ebber be as 'Tellygint as Hunny, lemme tell you!

But I do the bestest that I can.

So there I was, sleeping wif Wun Ear Opin, and I heared sumfing outside inna Back Gardin.

Well, dere is not s'sposed to be ennybunny out dere inna nite-time, when it looks like Dark and ebberybunny in Our Warren is inside forda Nite.

So I did like I was s'sposed to do, and I T*H*U*M*P*E*D.

Anna Dawg came ambling outta Maman's and Dadda's bedroom, paddled downna Hallway, fru da Dining Room anna Kitchin and innu Da Bun Room and axted me:

"Whuttsamatta, George BunnyRabbit?"

And I sed, "I herd sumfing outside, inna Gardin."

So Da Dawg hadda listen atta Back Door fora minit, and he sniffed alla'long da edge obba door and he sed,

"You're right, Bunnyrabbit. Dere is sumfing out dere, but I dunno whut. Lemme go ged Dadda. Dat's my job."

So he wint outta da Bun Room, and preddy soon, here comes Dadda in bare feets.

Anna Dawg stops inna Kitchen doorway, and says, rilly plainly, in Dawg,

"Lookit, I don't wanna go Outside. Dis issn't wike da last time whin MouseBunny peed on me! I'm just telling you dere is sumfing OUT DERE, and not dat I wanna go OUT DERE and habba wook at it, hokay?"

And Da Dawg stared rilly hard atta door, just so Dadda would get da message.

Well, Da Dawg has bright, pale Bloo eyes AND he issa Border Collie, so whin he stares, well, he rilly, rilly s-t-a-r-e-s. Like a pin fixing a bug to a corkboard, dat's how he stares, lemme tell you.

So ennyways, Dadda gets da message dat Da Dawg does not, unner enny circumstances, wanna go Outside.

And I T*H*U*M*P again, just to sort ob make sure dat Dadda doesn't get enny Wrong Ideas started up.

And Dadda says, "Whut's out dere, George?"

And I'm, like, "Howdaheck do I know? I'm da wun stuck in my habbytat, and you're da wun walking around nextest toda door. Turn onna light switch and wook outta window if you wanna know whut's out dere."

And Dadda says, "You know I rilly gotta bemember to change dat Outdoor Light Fixture so I can see whut's going on inna Back Garden."

And he turns around and says, "Good job, George. 'Nite, Bunnies!"

And dat, was dat.

So preddy much da same fing happened da Nextest Nite anna Nite Afta Dat.

And DEN, afta I had herd dis same "fing", whutebber it was, outside inna Back Garden a few nites inna row, and sent Da Dawg in to get Dadda outta bed, AND afta a couple ob nites ob Dadda coming out innu da Bun Room and saying how he hadda bemember to put inna Noo Light Fixture and alla dat, well...

Yestidday morning, Dadda goes Out, Inna da Back Garden and he calls Maman.

"Wook at dis." He says, pointing.

And Maman says, "Whut's dat doing out inna middle obba Gardin?"

And Dadda sed, "Sumfing taked dat empty milk jug outta da Recycle Bin and left it inna middle obba Gardin."

And Maman shouts, "WHUT?"

Which preddy much sounded like Belinda Bunny whin she was getting ready to go Beside Herself, only a lot louder.

And den Dadda sed, "And lookit your Herb Gardin."

And Maman leans outta da Back Door and hassa wook, and she wooks back at Dadda and snaps,

"Iffa Dawg's been digging anudder hole..."

Anna Dawg shouts frum out inna middle obba Back Gardin, wif his Ball in his mouf,

"HEY! IT WASSN' M'BE DIS TIME!"

And he couldn't ebben shout right onna'count obba fakt dat he hadda ball in his mouf because he's allus hoping dat Dadda or Maman is gonna stop whutebber dey're doing and play Toss Da Toy wif him. Ebben whin he's in Trubble, he still finks sumbun is gonna play wif him. Once he's got dat ball in his mouf, he's not letting go obbit until sumbun agrees dey are gonna play wif him. I told you, he's a Border Collie. I didn't say he was Dat Bright.

So Maman goes out innu da Gardin and Dadda brings her da milk jug dat has been taken frumma recycling bin, and dey mention dat it has TEEF HOLES where sumfing has been chewing onnit! And den dey walk downna Garden to where the Fence Stops, and dere issa HOLE INNA FENCE!

Yeah! Da Fence has been bent so dat sumfing can come innu Our Warren's Back Gardin!

And I, George ob Our Warren, had heard it inna nite-time!

Well!

Lemme tell you, Maman was preddy Upset.

She called ober da Man Who Lives Nextest Door. His name is Don and he issa Ribberman. Dere is nuffin aboudda Dellyware Ribber in dis area dat he don't know. He knows where alla fish are, and whin dey leeb dis area for anudder area, and he knows alla da annymuls and where dey libs and how dey libs. He sits in his liddle boat and watches and watches, and dere is nuffin he doesn't know aboudda Natchur in dis area.

So Maman and Dadda showed him da empty milk jug, anna hole inna Herb Gardin, anna place where da Fence Was Bent Up To Let Sumfing Innu Our Back Gardin.

And Don da Ribberman wooked at ebberyfing and sed:

"Raccoon. You prob'ly gotta Raccoon."

Well, Maman hadda gennywine fit.

Raccoons gots fleas.
Raccoons gots ticks.
Raccoons gots diseases.
Raccoons fight anna poor, old, clueless Dawg issa Poor, Old Clueless dawg, and he wouldn't habba chance if he cornered a fierce Raccoon wif claws and sharp teefs, and whut if he gets hurt, Poor, Old, Clueless Dawg...

Anna Dawg comes innu da houz, bringing his ball, and he's wike,

"Whut? Whodaheck is she talkin' about, ennyways?"

And I'm wike, "Whuttaheck issa rack-coon?"

And den Da Fat-Cat suddinly shambles in and sits down inna middle obba Bun Room. And he wooks around wif his big round, yellow eyes, and axts,

"So whut's alla da screeming goin' on in heer?"

Anna Dawg drops his ball, he's dat sus'sprised and he axts Cokie, "How did you get out ob your apawtmint?"

And Cokie says, "Dunno. Da door was opin, so I came out. Dere was nobun onna stairs, so I comed down. Den dere was nobun inna Libbin' Room, so I kept on coming and Arribed heer. So tell me why I bothered."

Anna Dawg says, "Dere has bin a Raccoon inna Back Gardin." Den he stops and gibs da Cat a s-t-a-r-e, and growls, "An INTRUDER!"

And Cokie meets Da Collie Stare wiffa Cat-Stare, den shrugs his big shoulders and says,

"And dis effects me, how? 'Cept forda fakt dat George BunnyRabbit heer keeps wakin' me and Beep-da-Udder-Cat up inna middle obba nite. I mean, we're in heer, BunnyRabbit, and whutebber It is, It's out dere so obviously, It doesn't madder. So why can't we all just hab peace and quiet to stay asleep?"

And I say, "Cos whutebber dis Raccoon fing is, it is an Indtruder wike Da Dawg says."

And Cokie fixes me wif his Cat-s-t-a-r-e and says, "So?"

And I say, "Wookit, Cat, we bunnies are Prey Annymuls. Our success assa species depends on staying 'Lert for Preddytors."

"And I," says Da Dawg. "Amma Guard Annymul. My success assa species depends on guarding whutebber Maman and Dadda fink is impawtant, which would be da BunnyRabbits."

And Cokie shakes his hed. "Wookit," he says. "I amma Preddytor, and NoBun T*H*U*M*P*S and wakes da whole houz when I'm walking around."

"Onna'count obba fakt dat we know you." I say.

But Da Dawg isn't known for being tactful, so whut he says to Cokie-da-Fat-Cat is:

"Lookit, Cat, da Rool says "No Catz Inna Bun Room" BUT I saw Belinda Bunny hed-butt you allaway across da Libbin' Room cawpet oncst, and I know you aren't stoopit enough to chance getting your butt whopped twice by anudder bunnyrabbit. So dat's why I let you innu dis Bun Room."

And Cokie sighed.

And den he sed, "I fink a raccoon issa type ob feral cat, only it's not feral onna'count obbit being wild. And since dere is berry widdle wild left for raccoons to lib in, dey sort ob try to lib inna same place as hoomins and dat causes Trubble, just wike it allus does whin Hoomins and Wild Fings hab to share da same space onna planet. Hoomins just don't share good."

And I sed to Cokie, "Well, Maman shares wif us preddy good. We get food, and hay and treats."

And Cokie sed to me, "But wild annymuls don't hab Our Maman. And dey wuld be skert oudda dere minds if dey did find out dey had her. Dey just wanna go on libbin' inna Wild, Just As They Allus Hab Done - only hoomins put in Gardins, and dey put out stuff inna rubbish dat smells wike food. And den da Hoomins complain whinna Wild Fings come and bodder wif dere stuff. You know, oncst, wong, wong ago, we was Wild Fings, too. And den we realised it was Better for us to Lib Inside wif da Hoomins. But dees Wild Fings still wanna be Wild, IF da hoomins will let dem."

So I hadda Fink about dis.

And I began to wonda if mebbe dis Raccoon, or whutebberdaheck it is dat is coming innu Our Warren's Back Gardin at nite, is rilly an INTRUDER at all, or is it rilly just sumbun trying to ged along inna werld fulla hoomins.

I dunno. I still don't like Noises Inna Nite. I can't help it. I'm the Alarm Bunny in Our Warren and Me, Hunny taught me dat I hab to allus sleep wif One Ear Opin and stay onna 'Lert for da Good Obba Warren.

Anna Dawg can't help being whut he is, and waking up Dadda inna middle obba nite if he feels its impawtant, either, you know.

Just like the Raccoon can't help being a Wild Fing outside, digging through the nice, soft soil dat Maman has turned up in order to plant her Herb Gardin, taking da easy way out, wooking for worms and grubs...

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

Posted by Our Warren at 11:47 PM EDT
Wednesday, 10 May 2006
George's Fifth Strand; Day Number 10
Now Playing: There Ain't No Song To 'Spress How I Feel!

I hadda whole entry typed for tiday.

It was rilly, rilly good, too.

Den da "lektrick company" screwed up. They had whut Maman called a "blip" anna whole screen I was typing on went dark.

When it got light again, MY BLOG WAS MISSING!

T*H*U*M*P!

I am beyond angry. I am beyond PO'ed. I am beyond cheesed off. And I am way beyond 'nnoyed.

I am MAD!

Yeah!

I am whole-heartedly, full-bore, Inkwish-Spot-type-ebben-if-I'm-not-one, rip-snorting MAD.

Yeah!

T H U M P!

THUMP!

Thump -- Thump -- Thump -- T*H*U*M*P!

And now, if nobun minds, I am gonna go, obber heer innu DIS corner, and occupy da High Ground, which happins to be MY pootie-box, and habba MAJOR SULK....

And den I'm gonna follow Hunny's advice - I'm gonna "Hab sum hay, and habba nap" and den I'm gonna see iffa whole, darned, screwed-up, stoopit werld don't wook a whole lot bedder afta I do.

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


Posted by Our Warren at 11:02 AM EDT
Updated: Wednesday, 10 May 2006 11:03 AM EDT
Thursday, 4 May 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 8:25 AM EDT
Saturday, 29 April 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 8:42 AM EDT
Friday, 28 April 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 7:33 AM EDT
Friday, 21 April 2006
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.

Posted by Our Warren at 12:22 PM EDT
Tuesday, 18 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


Posted by Our Warren at 10:59 AM EDT
Monday, 17 April 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 10:36 AM EDT
Saturday, 15 April 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 8:15 AM EDT
Friday, 14 April 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 2:49 PM EDT
Updated: Friday, 14 April 2006 10:56 PM EDT
Tuesday, 7 March 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 1:41 PM EST
Monday, 6 March 2006
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


Posted by Our Warren at 2:18 PM EST
Updated: Monday, 6 March 2006 2:20 PM EST
Sunday, 26 February 2006
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

Posted by Our Warren at 5:51 PM EST
Saturday, 25 February 2006
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




Posted by Our Warren at 3:22 PM EST
Sunday, 12 February 2006
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
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.

So.

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.

Ennyways....

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.

Figgers.

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."

Mebbe.

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

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