Sumtimes, when Maman is folding laundry inna Bun Room, she tells us whut she calls "War Stories". Sumhow, dey are allus aboudda time when she was werkin' assa p'fesshunal musician. Cos dat's whut she was bifore she wassa bunny-parent. Dere are ebben pikchurs ob her frum dat time, called "hed shots" which, when you come to fink abouddit, are a preddy skerry fing.

 So she was telling us a speshul War Story, aboud her friend, whose name was Lloyd. He was also a friend ob Bim's. Lloyd went toda Rainbow Bridge not long ago, so Maman's talking aboud him was preddy unhexpekted; Maman hassa wotta trubble menshuning udder hoomins who go to da Rainbow Bridge (although wotsa hoomins don't unnerstand dis, cos dey only fink dat dey know Maman. Dey fink she is simple and easy to unnerstand - she is lazy and ungrateful is whut dey fink. Dey are wrong, but you can't tell "sum peeple" Dadda says. He doesn't fink too highly ob "sum peeple" for sum rezon.). 

Ennyways, I wanna tell you aboud Maman's friend, Lloyd. He wassa'nudder musician, and a berry good wun. Maman says he was wun obba furst hoomins who ebber helped her in her p'fesshun, which is rilly saying sumfing, lemme tell you!

Well, when Lloyd was just starting out, Maman says datta whole werld was being taken ober by sum guy named "Hitler" who libbed ober in Europe, and sum udder guys who libbed ober in Japan. Maman says dat "Hitler" guy was a bad man, and datta Japanese was being misled. She says da whole fing was preddy p'litical, and dat it doesn't madder. It is His'try and you can read abouddit inna buk.

She says whut does madder issat one time she anna whole bunch ob her friends were sitting inna Hersal Hall, doing a rehearsal wif Lloyd for a show called Oklahoma!. And sumone came outta Lloyd's office inna theatre, carrying a brown paper sak. And inside ob dis sak, dere wassa musical instrumint called a "French Horn" (which, Maman say is neither French nor a horn, but dere you are), and da instrumint was all battered, and bent up, and discoloured, and it culdn't ebben be played. It was dat messed up!

Anna person said to Lloyd, "Hey Lloyd, whuttaheck happined to dis French Horn?"

And Maman sed Lloyd stopped da rehearsal, and he just kind sat rilly still on his conductor's stool and den he smiled, and he sed, "Funny fing aboud dat."

And den he began to tell dem aboudda French Horn.

He sed dat when he was eighteen years old, he knew he wanted to play da French Horn, but he didn't hab enough munnies to go to a fing called a "Conservatory", so he signed up wiffa United States Navy, cos dey wuld send him to skool to lern how to play da French Horn bedder, and maybe he culd  be inna Navy Band dat played forda Pressydent obba United States. And he sed dis wuld be a great fing fora "kid frumma Midwest".

Yeah! He was dat good at playing da French Horn!

So since he was just starting out, and only eighteen years old, da Navy put him inna sailor suit and put him inna band onna Navy ship called da USS West Virginia, and sent dat ship to a place called Hawaii.

And he thought dis was all berry inner'restin' onna'count obba Fakt dat he was frum dat place called da Midwest, and had nebber seed an ocean, and had nebber lerned how to swim and had nebber bifore been onna ship, and had nebber heard obba place called "Pearl Harbour" bifore in his whole life!

And so it wassa Sunday morning and Lloyd wassn't ebben finking aboudda guy named "Hitler" or Japanese or ennyfing. In Fakt, he was standing in his underwears byda widdle sink, starin' innu a mirror and shabin' and wondering whut "Hawaii" was gonna be wike when he got offa ship and went on toda shore.

And alla sudden, he heard airplanes, and ebberyfing started hextploding alla'round him! And he was scared, and he started running to a fing called "Battle Stations", only when he got dere, it was all on fire. So he ran to anudder place, and he den dere wassa huge hextplosion, anna West Virginia sorta jumped up innu da air. And he wondered why dere were no guns shooting back atta airplanes dat were dropping bombs onna ships lined up inna harbour - specifically why da West Virginia wasn't shooting enny guns -  and it was because da person wiffa key to alla bullets had alreaddy gone ashore!

So Lloyd was standing dere, wif ebberyfing all on fire around him, anna "officer" came by and sed to him,

"Whut are you doing, sailor?"

And Lloyd sed, "Standing by to abandon ship, Sir."

Anna officer sed, "Well do it, Sailor!"

And pushed him ober da railing.

And dere was Lloyd, who culdn't swim, inna wadder!

And he bemembers finking dat he hadda gedda'way frumma ship, because it was sinking and he didn't wanta get caught up innit, but dere was all kinds of *stuff* inna wadder, wike barrels, and wood, and more barrels, and den Lloyd saw a widdle boat drifitn' by. 

So he grabbed on toda boat, and berry carefuuly taked off his shooes and put dem inna boat! He sed he bemembers finking dat dose were his best shooes and he hadda take care ob dem. He sed dat when you are skerred outta your mind, da strangest fings occur to you - Wike saving your shooes inna middle ob Pearl Harbour.

And den he bemembers wooking around forda West Virginia, and she was gone.

Just gone. 

Anna whole sea all around him was on fire, and he was all OnAlone.

And nextest, he bemembered dat he was stumbling onna beach, and dere wassa house, anna door was open, so he knocked but no one answered. So onna'count obba Fakt datta door was open, he went inside, and he went innu da bedroom and found sum shirts inna closet, and he put wun on, because he didn't fink he shuld be runnin' around all wet, wif no shirt and only his Navy unnerpants and socks on. 

And den sum guy came in and axted him whut he was doin' and called him "sir", and dat puzzled Lloyd, but dat was hokay, cos he was beginning to find ebberyfing preddy puzzling now. And he left a note saying he had borrowed da shirt and wuld return it as soon as he culd, and went off wiffa guy who called him "sir". And he noticed datta shirt had dees, wike, leafs onna collar, but Lloyd sed he didn't rilly getta point obba oak leafs onna shirt atta time, onna'count obba Fakt dat he had just more or less been blown off his ship.

And dat guy he was wif gabe Lloyd a gun and told him to go "on guard dooty".

Well, da only fing was, Lloyd had nebber been taught ennyfing aboud guns onna'count obba Fakt dat he had been in Navy Musician Skool. So he went wandering around onna beach, wiffa gun, inna borrowed shirt wif leafs onna shoulders and unnerpants, on guard against whutebber - until sum udder Navy people found him, and took him to a place where he could lie down and sleep, and get sum food and figger out whut had just happined to him.

Whut had happined to him was "Pearl Harbour". Da West Virginia had been sunk in her berth, going straight to the bottom, taking Lloyd's French Horn wif her.

Well, wiffoud his French Horn, Lloyd wasn't much use to the Navy band and cossa Hitler in Europe dere wasn't enough special metal (called "brass") to make anudder French Horn for him to play, so he taught himself to play da guitar rilly, rily well (Maman sed he wassa fantastic musician!) and da Navy decided dey did need him inna band afta all! They put him innu da Jazz Band atta Officers' Club atta Royal Hawaiian Hotel, and he spent da rest obba Werld War Two playing inna jazz band for sailors on "R & R" at nite,  and making up beds during da day. And dat's whut he did from 1942 until 1945.

And afta da War was finally ober, da Navy raised da West Virginia frumma bottom ob Pearl Harbour, and dey found Lloyd's French Horn unnerneaf ob his bunk! So dey put it inna paper sak, and sent it to Lloyd, and he put it in his office, which is where Maman and her friends found it. And Lloyd took dat whole rehearsal forda show Oklahoma! to tell dem aboud Pearl Harbour and his French Horn.

So why am I telling you dis War Story? Becos Maman sed dat we Shuld Allus Bemember whut sum Young Hoomins are doing for us, datta Navy, anna Army, anna Air Force, anna Marines anna Coast Guard are all made up ob young - berry young - hoomins, wike Lloyd  and Bim, and wike our Phil-da-Lad, and Auntie Grace's Matt, who are
all in skerry situations ebbery day, all ob dem doing dere best to keep alla us safe.

And tiday is Pearl Harbour Day.

So if you sumone inna uniform tiday, please go shake their hand and say, "Fank you for serving."

And if you have a spare momint, please senda prayer or a vibe for alla brave young hoomins who went toda Rainbow Bridge on dat Sunday in Hawaii.

--------------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 7:49 AM EST

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Guess whut?

It says dis morning, inna Noo Yawk Times' "Buk Sekshun" dat, "the bibliography has lately been creeping into novels, rankling critics who call it a pretentious extension of the acknowledgments page, which began appearing more than a decade ago and was roundly derided as the tacky literary equivalent of the Oscar speech."

"'Pretentious extensions'! Whoa! Dat sounded ommynimmynuss, so I axted Maman whut it meant.

And she sed it wassa "soshul disease ob writers", so I was werried in case I might hab caught it (you know, sort ob wike bunny-clap, which you can't help if you geddit  onna'count obba Fakt dat it is a disease dat is spread by nasty Br**d*rs who hab no moral consciouses ennyways) but Maman just rolled her eyes and sed,

"No, George, you're not infected by any 'pretentious extensions', or even by 'Bibliographies', either, for that matter."

But I still wassn't sure. I mean, I DO digest buks. It makes Maman short-tempered sumtimes, 'specially when she hasta replace a partik'ilar buk or sumfing dat I hab Totally digested, and not just tore into. Wike da time I found dat rilly tasty buk on World War I flying aces by Arch Whitehouse; I mean, I just ate dat buk up. Unfortchuneately, Maman wasn't too happy aboud'dat at all, onna'count obba Fakt dat she wiked dat buk, too - so much so dat she had taken great pains to steal it frum her Dadda, who had stealed it back frum her, and den she stealed it away frum him...

You see, Maman and her Dadda hadda "Stealing Liberry". Sum hoomins habba "Lending Liberry" where dey borrow buks frum each udder, but Maman and her Dadda had a Staling Liberry where dey wuld steal buks back and forf. Dere issa dif'frunce.

It usually began wif Maman's Dadda (who was called Bim, which anudder whole story dat I hab told in anudder blog sumwhere's else) wooking ober Maman's collection ob buks and suddinly pulling wun offa shelf, saying, 

"So That's where that went!"

And Maman would hurry up behind him, trying to peer ober his shoulder and be wike, "Whut? Dat's mine!"

And Bim wuld say, "No, I clearly remember I bought this in..." and he would start reciting a wong, wong his'try ob where da buk was found and purchased, and usually da werd "Christmas" or "Birfday" would be inna story sumwheres.

And Maman wuld be wike, "Oh no you don't. Dat is my copy ob dat buk. I got it..." And Maman wuld tell anudder, equally wong story aboud how dat buk was found and who purchased it, and how da buk def'nitly belonged to her.

And da buk, itself, wuld, by now, be sitting onna table insted ob being onna bukshelf where it belonged.

And den, afta Bim had had coffee, and stayed for awhile in Maman's kitchen and talked and alla dat, he wuld get up and say he hadda go, and he wuld get half-way toda door and den stop, and say to Maman, "Oh, I fortygot dat buk!"

And Maman, who wasn't finking aboudda buk at all and was finking aboud his going sumwhere's else, wuld go getta buk frum offa table and gib it to him.

Den sumtime later, she wuld be ober at Bim's houz and she wuld see da buk on Bim's liberry shelf, and she wuld say, "Hey. I usta habba copy ob dis buk! In fact, it was hextactly wike dis buk! In Fakt it was dis buk!"

And den she wuld carry it outta Bim's houz and back to her liberry.

Well, now Bim has gone on ahead toda Rainbow Bridge and is probably stealing buks wif Belinda Bunny who hadda reel fondness for digesting buks, too. And Maman hassa berry 'pressive Liberry ob her own wif Dadda, dat has managed to spread innu two rooms, sodat dere is now a Liberry anna Reading Room heer where dere usta be only a Study anna Guest Room.  Anna Reading Room is where Maman and I come to read da Noospapers OnLine inna Morning.

And it's where I saw dis artykul inna Noo Yawk Times about novelists who are listing pages and pages ob "Bibliographies" atta end ob dere fikshunal werks assa kind ob "literary affecktayshun" (as Maman calls it).

So I axted her, "Shuld I list my Bibliography so I can habba Fashionable Literary Affektayshun, too, like Martin Amis and Ian McEwan?"

And Maman wooked at me sideways and axted, "Why do you mention those two writers?"

And I sed, "Onna'count obba Fakt dat nobunny is more Fashionable or Affekted den Martin Amis or Ian McEwan." I told her. "Dey ged menshuned alla time inna Guardian OnLine and inna Noo Yawk Daily Noos. Ebben Michael Crichton hassa Bibliography atta back ob his noo novel and it takes up Seven Whole Pages! Now dat is Affekted and Fashionable for you!"

And Maman sat berry quiet at her 'puter fora sekond and she axted me, "George, why do you fink you wuld put a Bibliography in a buk? I mean, aside from being 'Fashionable and Affekted'?"

And MissyBun wooked up frum nosing around inna pellet crock and offered, "How about cos he is braggin'?"

And Mouse called ober frum his habbytat, "I digested a 'Yellow Pages" in two days. Buk one day, confetti two days later."

And I sed, "Well, how about if sumbunny read sumfing I typed and wanted to know more abouddit? Dey culd read my 'Bibliography' and see where to read more infortymayshun. Hoz'zat?"

And Maman nodded.

"Probably the least selfish excuse I've heard so far." She sed. 

 And den Maman sort ob frowned innu her coffee cup (it was geddin' empty) and she axted me, "And if you were suddenly 'Fashionable', George, just which buks would you list in your Bibliography, anyway?"

And I sat down in her Big Chair Atta 'Puter and hadda Fink For A Few Minutes and dis issa list ob Buks dat I Fink I wuld put innu my Bibliography:

• The House Rabbit Hand Book: Living With An Urban Rabbat (Available at http://www.rabbit.org)
  
•  When A Man Loves A Rabbit by Bruce Atchison. (Available at  www.bookadz.com/batchison.htm)
• Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis (Available at http:www.amazon.com)
• The Book of Common Prayer (Available as a download at http://www.commonprayer.org)

And that wuld preddy much be my Generalised Bibilography, onna'count obba Fakt dat I digest special Buks for special Blogs, wike enny udder writer. I mean, I do do my research! I am not a writer wike dat James Frey, who writed a "fictionalized memoir". I mean, whutdaheck issa "fictionalized memoir"? How can sumbun bemember whut hasn't happined to dem? If sumbunny is gonna write Fiction den da least dey can do is say, "Hey, guess whut? Dis didn't ackchually happin to me, but iffit did, dis is how I fink it wuld hab happined, if it happined." 

Dere is no sense in going on Oprah! and pretending to be sumbun you aren't just to be "Fashionable and Affeckted" - not whin so menny udder writers are doing da same fing in udder places and getting paid for it, too.

I mean, Rilly!

So I axted Maman if my Bibliography List was hokay, and she sed:

"Yes, George. It's very 'hokay'. Probably not very Fashionable - because admitting to reading Lewis isn't going to win anybun any friends or influence any people in the normal sense of the term - and I know because it's yours, it's not "Affekted" at all."

Posted by Our Warren at 6:24 AM EST

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 (Dis is Part II. Go Down to read Part I, den come back to heer, hokay?)

"The fact is," continued Maman, smoothing out the towels, more gently now, and laying them in three, neat, orderly piles on top ob our habbytats.

"The fact is that John Spong's A Call for a New Reformation should have been published, but it should have never been permitted to cause the stir that it did. It was not anything "new" or "original" - the arguments for and against Science as the antidote for Religion have been around forever. Denying the Divinity of Jesus Christ is defined as Heresy in Anglicanism, as is denying the validity of the Scriptures. His writing comes under the heading of Not Good in that it causes people to lose their Faith, and to feel that there is no point in following Jesus' brilliant summation of the Jewish Law and Prophetical Writings: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all our mind." and "Love your neighbour as yourself." (Matt. 22; 37 - 39)

"If you believe Spong, it does no good to be an observant Anglican, or to be an observant Roman Catholic, or to be an observant Jew or to be anything that is so blindingly of One colour – one must believe in a murky, ill-defined *Everything is All and All is Everything* kind of grey.

"Yet the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopalian Church in America has enthusiastically embraced John Spong – yes, physically wrapped her arms around and embraced the author of the flawed A call for a New Reformation! This man, who was consecrated as a bishop in the Anglican faith, whose sworn duty it was to be a shepherd to his flock and to lead them safely along their pathways to God (and he drew a salary to do this! One would think that he would have felt a moral obligation to refuse to accept such Judas-silver...), when he was, in fact, actively engaged in leading them off a philosophical cliff - but the new Presiding Bishop has embraced such a man, and with him, embraced his false teachings."

Maman leaned down to look directly at me as I munched on sum hay, and she sed, "So if I see before me a gathering darkness, George, is it not my duty to sound a little alarum bell? And if in so doing, I manage to make myself unpopular..." 

She sat down, very carefully, onna floor nextest to me and I stepped close toda side obba habbytat, and put my paws togedder and got innu a loaf so I could listen to her.

"The fing," she said. "The fing is that I believe the Church is headed in the wrong direction. When I say 'The Church', I mean the Church where we go, the Anglican Church. I see bad fings when there is no definition between what is good and what is not good. Suddenly, in the words of C.S. Lewis, we become confused into thinking that "everything is good and everywhere is Heaven" when the real truth is that "good is everything and Heaven everywhere".

"So where can I go to Church if I no longer believe in my Church, George? Where do I go to put in my Pledge envelop when I know that the money is going to fund something in which I have no faith? How can I worship God in a place where I feel He is welcome in Name, only? And to whom do I look for leadership when the leaders challenge me to prove one of their own number is faithless?

"Spong writes in A Call for a New Reformation: '10. Prayer cannot be a request made to a theistic deity to act in human history in a particular way.' Well, isn't that encouraging to those who seek God's assistance in times of trouble? 'We're sorry but the number you have reached has been disconnected or is not assigned. Please check the number and dial again.' But you'll notice, George that Spong leaves us with no other solution. It's all just, 'You're on your own! Tough luck!'."

 "His must be a very barren universe: just endless chaos or an endless void, leading to what? There is no consolation, no Rainbow Bridge, no point to being alive, nothing to be learned, nothing of intrinsic value - only darkness at the end of the grave. Yet thousands of years of human belief says that this one man tells lies! When for two thousand years we have believed in the Son of God who described how Death is but a doorway. And the look that I have seen in the eyes more bunnies than I can count concludes that Saint Paul was right and that These Three Remain - Faith, Hope and Love, and the greatest of these is Love'."

"Because, George," she said, leaning close to me. "How can it be otherwise? But I don't have the 'correct' alpha-bet soup after my name to challenge people like Spong. I can be nothing other than I am - a plain Anglican who reads the Book of Common Prayer and goes to Church and says the Daily Office to herself. So why did the man in Canterbury tell me to write what I considered to be a very superficial refutation of a heresy?

"Because nothing makes sense, George. The politics of the Episcopal Church in America don't make sense (and it is internal politics that elected the Presiding Bishop - it surely wasn't her scholarship, nor her experience, nor her leadership, so what is left?) unless one believes that there is a move on the part of the Americans to arrogantly assume that money equals power. And it doesn't make sense that I should be writing what I am, nor does it seem possible that I could miss someone as much as I miss your Dadda - my whole world seems so terribly dark when he isn't here!"

And Maman sighed, and rested her hed against Missy's and my habbytat. So I groomed a liddle bit ob her hair, but she's got sumfing onnit, sum stuff dat tastes funny, wike Froot, kind ob, so I grabbed hold ob summ'obb'it wif my lips and pulled it out. 'Parently her hair is a'tached to her hed preddy tight - ennyways, it didn't tasted right at all. 

And Maman pulled herself up byda sides obba habbytat. Den she went toda 'Fridge and pulled outta package ob dose "Baby Peeled Organic Carrots" and gabe wun to Mouse, and wun to Beebe-Bunny!! and wun to MissyBun and wun to me!

And den, while she was petting me, she sed, "And you know whut else doesn't seem to make much sense, George? That I am having an intense theological discussion with a house-rabbit."

And I wooked up at her wif my mouf full ob "Baby Peeled Organic Carrot" and sed, "You nebber know, Maman. You just nebber know..."

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

Posted by Our Warren at 3:13 PM EST

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Becos while Dadda has been Away On Biznez, Sistah Beffy (wif Anastasia - you do know dat Anastasia is gonna arrive inna beginning ob February, right? Well, dat's whutta doctors say, but Maman says dat hoomin babies arrive when dey feel wike it, just wike bunny-kits. And Maman shuld know - she has had two hoomin babies: Sistah Beffy and Phil-da-Lad.) So ennyways, Sistah Beffy (wif Anastasia) and Adam hab been sort ob libbin' heer to "take care ob Maman" as Dadda said.

 He axted them to lib heer while he was Away On Biznez onna'count obba Fakt dat he is afraid dat Maman might get dizzy and fall down and get hurt anna Dawg wuldn't know how to dial da tellyphone to get help.

But even though Sistah Beffy (wif Anastasia) has been heer, Maman still has hadda lotta time to Fink while she has been doing da washing up, anna laundry, and takin' showers and stuff. Maman says dat she allus finks bedda when she is around wadder.

So dis morning, Maman decided to do summa da laundry dat's been followin' her around, and she discubbered dat dere were towels inna dryer, so while she was folding dem, she started talking to Alla Us Togedder. And she sed:

"Going to a Church with whom I have developed fundamental disagreements about doctrine is a difficult business." 

And she set a striped towel on top ob MissyBun's and my habbytat. So I hadda wook at it, to see if it seemed warm and tasty. Sum towels do, you know. 

And Maman pulled anudder towel frumma dryer-fing and went on: "...the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Most Reverend Rowan Williams wrote in reply to John Spong's "12 Points", while Williams was Bishop of Monmouth: "[...] I cannot in any way see Bishop Spong's theses as representing a defensible or even an interesting Christian future. And I want to know whether the Christian past scripture and tradition, really appears to him as empty and sterile as this text suggests." [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Shelby_Spong] - yet we, here in the United States, are presented with the public acceptance - make that "adoration" - of Spong by our new Presiding Bishop! Spong is, quite simply, a heretic who denies the divinity of Jesus Christ and the validity of the Scriptures.

(See: http://www.dioceseofnewark.org/jsspong/reform.html for the document A Call for a New Reformation by John Shelby Spong). 

"When I wrote to Canterbury, I asked how an Anglican living in the States was supposed to worship in the Episcopalian Church in America (which is the representative branch of the Anglican Communion in the United States), that I believed was embracing at least one heresy by embracing Spong and by extension, his writings. I was told (by return email) that it was my duty as an Anglican to present what I believed was conclusive evidence of Spong's heresy.

"Well then." Sed Maman. "Here goes. I presented the URL to John Spong’s A Call for a New Reformation - which he compares with no sense of shame to the Ninety-five Theses of Martin Luther! – and my reasons for believing that it is a heretical document. So far as I know, he has not repudiated this document, and therefore, remains a heretic. Just why I was asked to do this, George, I have no clue. I am not a theologian nor an apologist. I have never graduated from seminary. I’m a music historian, but someone asks and I’ll do my best to reply.

"I am all for Anglicanism continuing to express the Media Via in Christianity - I believe and will continue to believe that there are as many ways to God as there are people created - but that does not mean that there are no moral absolutes.

"Some things are indeed good and some things are not good; one must seek always to do that which is defined by Our Lord as good and fight very hard against that which is not good. As C.S. Lewis reminds us in The Great Divorce, “Evil can be undone but it cannot ‘develop’ into good.” There are decisions to be made. Black and white do not end somewhere in pure, blinding white, but in a kind of murky grey colour.

"But back to Spong's A Call for a New Reformation. The document is illogical from it's opening claim that, 'The institution that called itself the body of Christ ... produced the Hundred Years War and the conflict between England and Spain that came to a climax in the destruction of the Spanish Armada in 1588.'

"The Hundred Years' War, like all wars, was a result of many pressures: religious, economic, as well as nationalistic. One cannot stuff a century of on-again, off-again raid and counter-raid that historians have in retrospect labelled "The Hundred Years' War" into one, spare paragraph and blame it all on a conflict between "Protestant" and "Roman Catholic" belief systems. War between nations is not simple, and it is not clean and easily defined as one thing or another, not even with the 20/20 hind-sight of historical research.  

"Since the author wishes us to take his paper seriously, he should take pains to be certain that it's foundations are not laid upon risible historical generalisations." Said Maman, in her best Instructor’s Voice.

And she flapped a towel rilly, rilly Rilly hard, so that it made a loud *bang*, and then she folded it in brisk, tight motions, like she was getting it innu line, instead ob just folding it to be put away inna cupboard. Belinda oncet told me dat Maman was considered a berry “tough” teacher when she lectured in music history. And Maman can be whut’chu call “strict” when she is "’Nnoyed" aboud fings.

So she went on: "And then I challenge this next assertion: 'The need for a new theological reformation began when Copernicus and Galileo removed this planet from its previous supposed location at the centre of the universe, where human life was thought to bask under the constant attention of a humanly defined parental deity.' Reform? No. Adjustment? Perhaps. None of the Science discovered so far negates the existence of God.  In fact, Science, as we understand it only re-enforces the argument that there must be a Supreme Being.

"Think of the Darwinian Theory of Evolution, for example. There are any number of people who believe that if one believes in the Theory of Evolution, one cannot believe in God, and furthermore, one cannot possibly be a Christian. In fact, the whole hierarchy of modern education has it's knickers in a knot over this very controversy! And it is so, so silly because it is all so, so gratuitous.

"So I will ask you, George Bunny Rabbit, A Great Question (mainly because I believe a bunny rabbit's answer is worth one hundred times that of an Education Departmental Chair's): Is it possible to agree with me that at one critical point, a certain gene, or set of genes mutated in such a way that a tree-dwelling proto-human became, in fact, human?”

And I wooked at Maman and thought for a second and then sed, “You nebber know, Maman. You just nebber know…”

And rite away, she clapped her hands and cried out, “You are correct, George Bunny Rabbit! You do not "ebber" know because you were not there at that one critical point! You were never inside of that one critical proto-human's head - so how could you possibly know, with utter certainty, the exact moment and by what specific means that one critical proto-human evolved into a modern human being? You nebber know. And you probably nebber will know. But that is not to say that it Never Happened, either, as some of the Creationalists and Intelligent Designers would have it. Some specific things are perhaps Unknowable by mere human means!  

"So, why then is there such a problem in believing in Evolution? Why must we have the Creationists and Intelligent Designers lined up against the Darwinians and Atheists like ducks in a shooting gallery? It’s asinine. Does belief in Evolution automatically remove God from the chain of Human development? Not at all! Does belief in God preclude any belief in the Darwinian Theory? Never! The two are not mutually exclusive unless someone’s mind is slammed shut more tightly than a space shuttle’s airlock. Because at some critical point - a point that science can neither define nor even propose to locate - something caused something to happen, that made human beings become 'human'. And that something, I define as God.

"And why not define that something as God? Defining that something that changed human beings from whatever they were into the human beings they currently are, will not curtail the investigation into discovering more about that Something. It is within the nature of human beings to ask questions and discover answers. It is how we are made - how God made us, if you will (because we did acquire this trait somehow, you must admit!) – but it is how we are made, perhaps, so that we could find our way to Him.

"As I said, my dearest George, there are as many paths to God as there are people to tread them. Science is only another path. It is all right to believe in the Theory of Evolution, because the Theory of Evolution does not call for any 'theological reformation', nor does the 'Big Bang Theory' of the creation of the Universe call for any great 'theological reformation'. God remains as a 'First Cause' for all things, and the more we discover about the origins of our species, and the origins of our Universe, the more we are moved to wonder at the unique and shining genius of the Supreme Architect of the Universe who has been there before us. 

"Spong insists that we all must dismiss belief in Jesus' miracles, belief in any and every miracle in light of the discoveries of Science. This argument is not original, and has been carried on before by better minds than either his or mine. In fact, I recommend that he have a look at Lewis’ The Great Divorce as starter material. He will probably dismiss it as not being scholarly, but this dismissal only begs the real question, which is this: How can Spong know all about what happened during the occurrence of one of Jesus’ – or anyone’s – miracles?

"I don't believe that John Spong was a witness at any of the miracles that are related either the Old or New Testaments of the Bible, so how does he know what *really* went on? He is relying upon the information he has gathered about these miracles from reading about them in the Bible. This is not the same thing as actually witnessing a miracle, not what a historian would consider “primary source” material, as he contends.

"He mentions that Science has proven that miracles, as they are reported in the Scriptures, just *can’t* happen. He is therefore perfectly willing to accept evidence of one sort, which will prove his contentions that what occurred couldn't possibly be a miracle while rejecting any conclusions reached by contemporary witnesses about what they actually observed.

"The fact is that Spong can't have it both ways. Either the reportage in the Bible is all fiction or it is what it is: published oral histories of eye-witnesses. He was not there. He did not see for himself, so he can render no judgement about what other people said that they saw. And he cannot impose the rigorous conditions of Scientific Theory upon what was or was not reported by people who lived centuries before he did – and if he can, I would really like to see him re-create ALL of the variables (of say, Velikovsky’s explanation for the Parting of the Red Sea) in the laboratory!

 (Part II is coming up inna nextest postie!)

Posted by Our Warren at 3:08 PM EST

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Yeah!

 I had no clue, eidder, but when Maman came innu da Bun Room dis morning she sed, "Good Morning, Bunnies!" to us, and started taking stock ob whut was inna 'Frigerator.

And she sed: "Guess whut's for lunch?"

And Dadda, who had followed her along and was waiting for his kettle to boil, sed, "Wooks wike turkey."

And Maman sed, "You got dat rite."

And den she sed, "Guess whut's for tea?"

And Dadda sed, "Lemme see... Turkey?"

And Maman sed, "Go toda hed obba class!"

And den she sed, "And guess whut's for brekfast?"

And Dadda sed, "It had bedder not be turkey, onna'count obba Fakt dat no madder how good da turkey is, it is not brekfast food!"

And Maman sed, "Fank you for playing. Da ansur is not 'turkey'. Da correct ansur is 'Pie'."

And Dadda was wike, "Pie? For brekfast?"

And Maman is wike, "It's annA'Murrican Tradishun! Onna Day Afta Fanksgibbin' you hab Pie For Brekfast!"

And she wooks at Alla Us Togedder and adds, "Rite, Bunnies?"

And Beebe, Mouse, Missy and I preddy much agree, becos we can preddy much see dat dere mite be sumfing in dis for us if we agree wif her. Dere ushally is.

Den Da Dawg, who preddy much has figgered out whut we alreddy know, chimes in dat he agrees wif Maman, too.

Pie. It's whut's for Brekfast. 

So Dadda's wike, "I dunno. I don't fink I want Pie for Brekfast."

Anna Dawg says quickly, "So I'll hab Dadda's share."

And Dadda says, "You know, I fink I'll extend my Fankgibbin' Hollyday to tiday, too, wike ebberybunny else inna'Murrica. I'm habbin' a hard time werkin' up enny 'thusyasm for ennyfing tiday." 

And by dis time, Maman's bringin' outta Pies.

Dere is pun'kin, peekcan and a fing dat is not hextactly a pie, but sort ob is wike one, called Appul Crumble.

Now we bunnies had alreddy tried sum ob dat pun'kin stuff yestidday.

Maman had come innu da Bun Room wiffa big spoonfull ob orange stuff and sed to Beebe, "Dis is FRESH Pun'kin. Our Friend in SoCal, Beezer, lubs it! Our Friend Wally (ATB), ob HAREWEAR, recommends it. Whut'chu fink Mr Mouse?"

And Mouse had taken a wook attit and sed, "I fink you're trying to poison me! Ged dat spoon away frum me!" and ran toda back ob his habbytat.

So Maman was wike, "Hokay for you." And moobed ober to Beebe's habbytat.

Well, Beebe lunged atta spoon (it was invadin' his habbytat and he allus lunges at ebberyfing dat invades his space, frum habbin' been a Skool Bunny and abused and all) and he accidentally bit da spoon, whch got him a'accidental mouf-full ob pun'kin. And he stood dere wif orange pun'kin all ober his face for a minute, and den stawted munchin'. And preddy soon he licked his bunny-lips and munched summore, and den went back and had sekonds. Den he had thirds, and forfs, and den Maman sed he had "Enuf."

And she went to ged anudder spoon.

Den she came ober to us.

But her hand was preddy shakey and she sorta mashed sum obba punk'kin on Missy's nose wiffout meanin' to.

And Missy was wike, "EWWWWW! I've got punk'in on my face! EWWWW! Help! Cooties! EWWWWW!"

And she ran innu da corner obba habbytat. Den da spoon, wif Maman not too stable onna end obbit, wabed in my direkshun, and I was wike, "EWWW! Cooties! EWWWWW! Poison! EWWWW!" (cos dat's whut I'd herd!)

And I ran forda corner, too, and buried my nose in Missy's fur.  

And Maman was wike, "Well! All rite for you two!"

And off she went, all 'fended-wike.

So dis morning, she's gotta finished pun'kin pie, and she pours herself summa dat "coffee" in her cup and cuts sum pie outta da dish onna counter. And she offers a fork-full, dis time, to Mouse, and says, "Habba bite. Dis is dif'frunt frum whut you had yestidday."

And Mouse hassa snif and says, "Y'know, dis wuld be so much easier if you culd just do raisins!" and turns his back on her.

And Maman says to Dadda, "He is def'nit'ly your bunny! Becos he won't eat Pie for brekfast eidder."

And Dadda wooks atta Dawg and says, "Come on, Mister. Go patrol your Gardin."

Anna Dawg (who is not over-endowed wif brains) says, "And you'll sabe me sum pie?"

And Dadda (who speaks "Dawg" preddy well) says, "Do you want a cookie?"

Which makes da Dawg completely fortyged aboudda pie, and makes him start bouncin' around atta door barkin', "Cookie! Cookie! Gimmie! Cookie!"

So Dadda gibs him a Milk-Bone Dawg Biscuit anna Dawg goes out da Back Door, waggin' his tail growling, "I gotta cookie! I gotta cookie - hang on! Whutta aboudda pie? Pie?"

And just den, Dadda says, "Go count your squirrels."

Anna stoopit Dawg goes rocketting off, barking, "Squirrell! Squirrell!" completely fortygedding aboudda pie again.

So Dadda shuts da Back Door. 

So while Dadda has bin doing alla dis wiffa Dawg, Maman cut offa bite ob pun'kin pie and put it in Beebe's treat baskit. And ob course Beebe is all hexcited, onna'count obba Fakt dat he likes pun'kin ennyways. So as soon as he sees da bite ob Pie comin', Beebe yells out:

"YO! Incoming!" and dashes off to his treat baskit to start munching.

So we're nextest on Maman's Brekfast Handout List.

And heer it comes, smelling ob dis Cinnymin and sugar and above all, Pun'kin, and heer it is in our Treats Baskit, two rabbit-sized bites ob Pie sitting nextest to each udder. So Missy sort ob waddles ober to one and sniffs it and and gibs it an exploratory lick.

 And I'm standing back, onna'count obba Fakt dat since Maman smooshed da spon-full ob pun'kin innu Missys face, I amma berry cautious bunnyrabbit!

And den suddinly, Missy is takin' bites ob pun'kin pie! And I don't mean dainty, widdle bunny-bites, I mean she is takin' warge, healfy gob-stoppin' mouf-fulls heer, wif her teefs and ebberyfing!

And Missy's out-right munchin! And den she turns around to me, (becos I'm waiting for her to fall ober or sumfing, becos she and Mouse did say datta stuff was fulla cooties and poison da wast time!) and she's standin' dere ober da Treat Baskit wif her mouf all full ob dis pun'kin pie stuff, and her bunny-lips are all orangey and all,

And she says to me:

"Pie. It's whut's for brekfast." 

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

Posted by Our Warren at 9:39 AM EST

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Well, dere issa ded bird inna'frigerator, and ebberybunny's alreddy  feelin' conflicted about dat. Dadda is yellin' atta Catz for doing sumfing dey shuldn't hab done inna Dining Room,  Sistah Beffy is still  pregnutz (hoomins take much longer den bunnies to make, apparently) and she is inna Kitchin, makin' pies and tellin' Phil-da-Lad (who is her bruther) to stop moonin' around onna'count obba Fakt dat Alanna's in Maryland. And Da Dawg is bizzy lookin' all ober da place for Adam so he can herd him Outside to play ball wif him (but Adam is still "at werk" so Da stoopit Dawg is sittin, ebber hopeful, byda Frunt Door wif his ball in his mouf) and Maman is alreddy lyin' down wiffa migraine.

So we're off to anudder flyin' start wiffa Hollyday.

Dis wun is called "Fanksgibbin'" and as Maman sed to Alla Us Togedder yestidday as she was foldin' laundry, you shuld fortyged aboud alla dat stuff you lerned back innna warm, fuzzy days when you traced your hand out on brown con-struck-shun paper, cut out paper feathers an' stuck'em on wif da paste-you-could-eat, to hang inna school winder. Dere was no Hoppy Pil'grims and Helpful Indians. Whut dere was was Hungry, Scared Settlers ob preddy much No Eddykayshun (which is notta whole lot dif'frunt from now so far assa "Eddykayshun" part obbit goes, she sed) wif Leaky Ships, way far away frum whut dey knew (which was Inkwand), anna whole wotta Puzzled, Suspicious Native Peoples who sure didn't trust da Hungry, Scared Settlers who was actin' weirder, and weider wif ebbery passing day. So dat Byda Time ebbrywun had gotted around to "Fanksgibbin'" all ennybunny wanted was for ebberywun else (Maman says) to godahellhome - which as History teaches us - wassn't happenin' for a variety ob rezons. 

Maman says History is not tidy, and dere are ushally a whole lotta rezons why fings happins, and one size doesn't fit all, which is why she hates it when a noo history buk comes out dat says it's author 'spains "ebberyfing".

Maman says she is now dat Mate-Tree-Ark obba family, which is why she has suddenly discubbered dat she hassa Power to say whut she pleases and ebberybunny hasta at least shaddup and listen. She says dis has nebber happenined bifore, but dat as she has found out more aboud her GrandMothers, dis is how she is s'sposed to behave. She sed she usta be 'fraid to ebben tawk, but now dat she is married to Dadda (who beleebs in smashin' inna frunt doors and meta-for-acal buckets ob blud) she has lerned dat dere is troof in whut her Mentor told her yeers ago, "If you wanna run wiffa pack, you learn to fight wike a wolf." or sumfing wike dat. 

So she is now sayin' whut she finks and it is s'prising.

And Missy sed she wassa Mate-Tree-Ark onna'count obba Fakt dat she issa only GurlBunny in Our Warren and so she rearranged alla pootie-boxes so I can't get inside ob enny ob dem.  And she sed dat alla us GuyBunnies had to listen to her becos she an' Maman are Mate-Tree-Arks an' Heds ob Families. And (Missy sed) we are lucky dat we are not Pil'grims or Native 'Murricans libbin' inna Old Days, cos we wuld Regret Dat and dere wuld be NO "Fanksgibbin'."

So Maman is habbin' Sistah Beffy make pies and we are gettin' bites ob Croost Cookies. Deese are made frum Pie Croost which is trimmed offa Pies, and den baked wiffa widdle cinnymon and sugar sprinkled on top. Maman, as Mate-Tree-Ark, teached dis to Sistah Beffy when she was widdle, just as her Granny's housekeeper, Annie Hamilton, teached it to Maman. And dat's howda Mate-Tree-Ark fing goes: it's whut da Granny teaches toda widdle kid who teaches it to her kid, who teaches it to her kid when she grows up to beda Mate-Tree-Ark and can say whutebber she pleases.

Only we GuyBunnies aren't shure where Missy fits innu dis pikshure. Missy says dat she got it frum Belinda Bunny (ATB) who gotted it frum herself and passed it on to Missy who is gonna pass it on to sumbun inna fu-chur, as soon as Belinda sends sumbun heer, wike Hunny called for me (who didn't habba home) when Hunny knew dat he was gonna need me to learn to Become 'Tellygint, just wike him. Hunny called dis passing on ob Learning Da Circle ob Life, and Missy says dat pawt ob dis is being a Mate-Tree-Ark.

Maman says it is History and pawt ob History is knowing da Troof about "Fanksgibbin'", and not just da pawt dat hoomins are taught in school, aboud tracing dere hands out onna construckshun paper and pastin' on feathers and hangin' it inna winder. She says dat nobun shuld become lazy and fink dat dey can stop learnin' just onna'count obba Fakt dat dey readed wun buk where da author sed dey had discubbered da Answer To Ebberyfing. 

And Maman also sed datta Furst Rool ob geddin' along on Fanksgibbin' is to bemember to Gib Fanks. Dat ebben if your Maman says you are an iddyit, bemember dat you are heer inna werld by her lub (cos she hasn't killed you yet), eatin' food she took da time an' trubble to make for you, and you'd do well to bemember alla does who are not as blessed as you. You shuld ebben gib fanks for your sistah or budder, becos sum hoomins don't hab wun. An' be Fankful ebben for fings you diswike, becos you hab dem dere to dislike. Sum bunnies, who hab no home, and who hab been abandoned and thrown out to try and survive OnAlone hab nuffin ebben to complain aboud - so you are lucky if you can complain. 

An' in Fakt, insted ob sittin' dere bememberin' whut you don't hab, ged off your butt an' do sumfing possytib: da bestest way to not be alone or unhappy onna hollyday is to offer your hand to sumbun else.

And bemember to bemember all does who are inna shelter. 

And please bemember alla does who are still out dere, seekin' shelter.

And bemember dat you can make a dif'rence - mebbe not for for all but for wun.

------------------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 9:48 AM EST

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Hokay. Seeda header? Tiday is Our Dadda's Birfday! Yeah! Hooray! So Hoppy Birfday to Dadda!

 Yeah, and just to sellybrate, we heer at Our Warren hadda habba "Incydint" (as Maman calls it).

Sure. You know us!

So Maman and Dadda was outta milk dis morning, which was bad cos Dadda hates dat powdered stuff in his tea and Maman isn't too pleased wiffit in her coffee, eidder.

So Dadda dragged on his jeens and put on his Harewear tee-shirt (http://harewear.tripod.com) and went toda store uppa road while Maman made tea and poured coffee.

So while she was waitin' for Dadda to ged back, Maman letta Dawg outta Back Door Innu Da Gardin and sed,

 "Morning, Bunnies!" to us.

And she gibbed ebberybun a coupla Tiny Peeled Baby Organic Carrots for brekky.

And Mr Mouse was 'nnoyed onna'count obba Fakt dat he didn't get his Tiny Peeled Baby Organic Carrots furst. Dis is cos Maman gibbed Beebe-Bunny!! da furst helping of Tiny Peeled Baby Organic Carrots onna'count obba Fakt dat he is Old anna Senior Bun, and Not Feeling Well Onna'count Obba Fakt dat he has pseudo-sumfings up his nose... 

So Mouse was alreddy inna Bad Mood and fings hadn't ebben got offa ground, yet.

And so, Maman goes on her feckless way, Uppastairs and opins da door and lets outta Catz frumma Office (which is also her Study). And Dadda comes back and Maman lets inna Dawg frumma Gardin where he's had his Morning Patrol (he says datta birdies are flocking up and mobbin' on).

And Dadda has brought doughnuts for Maman.

Now doughnuts are innerestin' inna wotta ways. Furst off, they smell good. Second off, Maman shares. Third off, she ushually doesn't share wiffa Catz onna count obba Fakt datshe says "alla dat shugar issn't good fora 40-pound Maine Coon kitty onna Diet."

And dis makes Cokie-da-Fat-Cat 'nnoyed, cos he doesn't ged enny while we ushally do.

Well, dis morning, we didn't ged enny doughnuts and nedder didda Cat. 

So bemember, Mouse is 'nnoyed and now Cokie-Cat is 'nnoyed.

And heer comes da Dawg, who is gen'rally happy. And nuffin makes a 'nnoyed critter more 'nnoyed denna gen'rally happy, bouncy, sloppy, hi-glad-to-see-you-slobber-on-your-hed kind ob udder critter.

Can you smell da disaster?

So ennyways, Maman and Dadda each habba doughnut, and Maman gibs Da Dawg a Milk-Bone Dawg Biscuit for brekky, and dey all go Uppystairs. And I heer Dadda gib kibble toda Catz...

And nobun is geddin' enny doughnuts, you'll notice... 

And den, for sum reason, Cokie anna Dawg come Downnastairs - and Da Dawg starts snarffling up alla Rabbit Chow Green Bag pellets dat MissyBun has dumped outta da habbytat obernite (Maman allus gibs us sum in case we gedda case obba munchies late inna evenin'. Udderwise, she ways, *I* wake hoomins up by *thumpin'*. But it's not *me* who *thumps*! Dat wuld be Missy, but Maman finks it's me, when it's not!  *I* only *thump* when there's sumfing dang'rus inna Gardin outside. *I* do not *thump* onna' count obba Empty Pellet Dish!)

So ennyways, Da Dawg is snuffling along da floor, and Mouse is alreddy 'nnoyed and all, so he calls ober toda Cokie-Cat,

"Hey, Cat!"

And Cokie is standing dere wike, "Whut? You call me, Bunnyrabbit?"

And Mouse is wike, "Yeah. Come on ober heer and seeda hay onna floor unner my habbytat."

So Cokie sort ob wanders ober, anna Dawg shuffles along, nose-toda-floor, and now, Mouse is reely 'nnoyed. So he lines up to pee onna Dawg, and don't you know, da Dawg moobs, anna Cokie-Cat moobs anna Cokie-Cat geds pee'd on!

Well, dat sort ob does it, so to speak.

Cokie stares at Mouse fora sekond and den he says a Rilly Bad Werd!

And den da Cat turns around, flips his tail, and goes shamblin' reely fast outta da Bun Room, fru da Kitchin anna alla way Uppastairs where I hear him start to complain loudly to Dadda!

Anna Dawg is wike, "Ooops. Well, um, see ya, Bunnies!" And off he goes Uppystairs, too. 

So I kin hear da Cokie-Cat and he's complainin' Royal, as Dadda says. And Dadda's wike,

"Wookit, Cat, I dunno whut your problem is, but you got food, so shaddup."

And Maman is wike, "Whutsamatta wiffa Cat?"

And Dadda is wike, "I dunno butif he doesn't shut up, he's going to become extremely unpopular - as unpopular assa rattlesnake inna skippin' rope faktory."

And Maman waffs. Listenin' to Dadda ushually makes Maman waff, which is good in sum ways, but it can be bad in udders onna'count obba Fakt dat Maman can sometimes getta case obba giggles atta wrong time, inna wrong place, she says. 

And dis wassa wrong time, becos Cokie kept on complainin'.

So finally I heered Maman call him ober to her, and just wike I figgered wuld happin, she suddinly squeeks,

"EWWWWW! Brian! No wonder Cokie's complaining! Sumbunny peed onna poor Cat's hed!"

And heer inna Bun Room Mr Mouse goes, "Heh!"

And den heer comes Dadda pounding Downnastairs, and he's got Cokie ober his shoulder and he's sayin' to him, "Don't be a prat all your life, Cocoa," (which is Cokie's Real Name) "We're just going to wash your hed..."

And Cokie is wailin' like, "Whaaaaaaaa! Whut did *I* do?!?!"

And, ob course, Maman is fluttering afta dem wike sum kinda bird-inna-bafrobe. 

So we got treated to watchin' Maman and Dadda wash, towel-dry and brush da Cat-hed, while da Dawg hadda ged exiled toda Back Gardin, onna'count obba Fakt Dadda sed to him, "Comon, you're goin' outside becos you're just enjoyin' dis too much."

Anna Dawg found himself out inna Gardin goin' "Whuttaheck? Why am I out heer again?" 

And as Dadda came past he stopped inna Bun Room and axt us, "And whut are You Buggers wookin' at?"

And we buggers didn't say a werd... cos it's Dadda's Birfday tiday, afta all...

---------------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 8:07 AM EST

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I can't beleeb it's Oktober!

It's cold outside when Maman opins da door toda Back Gardin to let Da Dawg inanout. I mean, you shuld just hear MissyBun complain aboudda draft! It's enuf to make you wanna leeb home, unwess Home wassn't warm, comfortyble, dry and fulla Hay. Dere are sum fings it's just Dumb to leeb and Home is wunna dem.

Which brings me toda Point ob Tiday's Blog.

Yousee, Alla Us Togedder, heer at Our Warren are house-bunnies, which means bunnies dat lib inside obba houzes just wike catz and dawgs!

Dat's rite.

We lib indoors wif our hoomins!

We do not lib outdoors!

And ebberybunny heer is adopted! And not only da Bunnies was each adopted, but also bof obba Catz, anna Dawg. Being adopted means dat none ob us had homes bifore, and dat Maman and Dadda invited us to share their home!

Now, udder hoomins can adopt Companion Animals, too!

Dat's rite!

Hoomins wif pet-less homes can now hab pets! Yes! They can axtchually share dere homes wif Companion Animals dat hab somehow managed, fru no fault ob dere own, to lose dere homes! 

Dere are Bunnies, and Kitties, and Dawgs and ebben Birdies - all waiting in Shelters ebberywheres for good hoomins to adopt dem, just wike Alla Us Togedder heer at Our Warren.

Now, a Bunny might not be da Right Companion Animal for just enny hoomin. Mebbe a Cat might be bedder for dem. Or mebbe dey are a Dawg-kinda person. But da Fakt obba madder is dis: dere are Companion Animals out dere in Shelters, right now, who are reddy and waiting to come and help share dere Life wiffa Good Hoomin who needs dem! 

Now, you kin see frumma fings dat I type heer inna Blog dat Maman needs alla help she can get. So does Dadda. Mebbe you are a widdle wike dem - a widdle bit overwhelmed by habbin to lib ebberyday inna confoozlin' werld.

Well, Companion Animals can help you wif dat!  Yes we can!

We unnerstand whut hoomins do not; we know aboud how it Takes A Warren to make a Werld, and how to Allus Okyoupye Da Highest Ground when fings get diffycult; and we know how to Hab Sum Hay and Habba Nap and how to Share dose fings we hab been gibbin.

Yeah!

We Companion Animals can add a wot to Life!

So if you habba place in your heart, anna home dat is empty, well, den, you shuld seriously consider adopting a Companion Animal. 

Gib a dawg or a kitty or a bunny a second chance! Visit your local shelter! Fill out anna Adoption Form - Remember to Spay or Neuter your Companion Animal!

And All Bunnies Live INDOORS!

I fink dat about cobbers it.

Becos you know, I arribed atta v-e-t's office inna cardboard box. Dat's rite, just me-inna-box. I was bought assa toy for Easter and three weeks later, da stoopit hoomins figgered out dat I wasn't a toy at all - I wassa reel, libe bunnyrabbit - and den dose hoomins didn't want me ennymore! So they put me inna box, closed uppa top and left me atta v-e-t's,  onna floor, OnAlone.

Dat shuldn't happen to ennybunny. Never.

And some poor bunnies don't ebben get DAT!

So, fink aboud it.

Gotta place in your heart dat needs to be filled wif lub? Gotta little lub to share?

Dere's a Companion Animal waiting for you, sitting inna Shelter, OnAlone but fulla Hope. 

-------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 12:48 PM EST

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And...

We're Off!

 And runnin'.

Wook out!

Hooboy. Around heer, you nebber know. You just don't.

So tidday, Maman comes Downnastairs frum reading alla Noospapers online, railin' about how she's gonna be as Un-PC as possybul frum now on until forebber, and how she is nebber, ebber gonna go back innu teaching kidlets about Musics, no how, no way, nomadder whut.

Den she gets sum more coffee and goes back Uppastairs toda Study to werk on wunna her children's Buks dat teaches dem alla'bout Musics.

If you wook rilly, rilly closely you will find sum kinda logic in dis, but I am not sure how much. Dis is onna'count obba Fakt dat Maman swears dat she issa berry Logical Person, and we hab to take her werd on dat. 

Soda Nite Bifore Wast Nite, Maman and Dadda was up Late, sittin' inna Dining Room talkin' to each udder. Anna Catz were slinking around, complaining aboudda Fakt dat dere dinner was late, anna Dawg was trailing afta them, sorta droning on about, "No Catz Inna Bun Room!" just in case they strayed our way.

And finally, aboud midnite, Dadda says, "Let's go feed da Bunnies, dear."

And they get up and make salads, and refill crocks and alla dat stuff.

And ob course, da Catz anna Dawg are unner'neaf dere feets, so Maman says to Da Dawg, "Go outside and count your squirrels."

Well, ob course alla squirrels are in dere beds asleep, but Da Dawg is stoopit dat way and he gets all jazzed up and goes flyin' outta door innu da Back Gardin, grumblin' and woofin' like he does inna morning when the squirrels rilly are awake, frowing nuts and makin' fun ob him frumma trees.

And preddy soon he comes back and says to nobun in particular, "Guess whut, BunnyRabbits? Dadda lefta Tracktor out inna Back Gardin!"

And MissyBun is wike, "So are you gonna tell him?" And goes back to munching onna salad, becos she rilly doesn't care aboudda Tractor wun way or da udder.

Butta Dawg hates da Tracktor. He can't stand being inna same yard wiffit. He feels dat he hasta lunge attit, and bark and bite da tires anna'tack it, which tends to upset Dadda who lubs dat Tracktor wike a child. He ebben bought a widdle Tracktor Houz for it to lib in, and den anudder widdle Houz for all its stuff to lib in, and he just lubs da Tracktor to bits. Butta Dawg hates it and hasta come in frumma Back Gardin whenebber Dadda takes da Tracktor outta its Tracktor Houz to do enny jobs around da Back Gardin.

And Dadda nebber leebs da Tracktor out inna Nite, da same way he wuld nebber leeb enny ob Us out inna nite.

But, dere it was, da Dawg sed, out inna Nite, only it was being Quiet About it, so it seemed wike Maman and ebben Dadda, who lubbed it, had fortygotten it.

So I sed, "Dat's a shame."

And Mr Mouse sorta chortled.

Just den Maman and Dadda came back innu da Bun Room again, and Beebe wooked up frum groomin' his Stuffie, and called out, "YO! Dadda! Your Tracktor is outside inna Nite!" 

But ob course Dadda was talkin' to Maman about going out to ged us sum hay and didn't hear Beebe.

So Dadda walks outta Back Door Innu Da Gardin and comes to a stop and Maman walks right innu him, and she goes, "Whut?"

And Dadda says, "I left da Tracktor outside."

And Maman wooks up innu da sky, notices it's mainly Dark and says to Dadda, "Well, I can help you pushit innu it's houz."

So dey go outta da door, innu da Nite.

Only, just bifore da door shuts, Maman calls da Dawg.

And Dadda says, "Whut didyadodat for?"

And Maman says, "He can help."

Well, you nebber, ebber tell a Border Collie Dawg dat he can "help". Does dawgs just lib to help. Dat's all dey want to do is help. Ebben when dey habben't da fainest idea ob How dey are gonna do it, dey just ged Right Inna Middle Ob Fings and Help dere hardest. I'm tellling you, if Disaster came along and axted for Help, Border Collies would be Right Dere, willing and able.

So dere's da Free obb'em inna Back Gardin, inna middle obba Nite, and becos Maman and Dadda are just standing ober da Tracktor, sorta staring att'it, we hear da Dawg call out, "Hey wook at dis! I found my ball!"

Just aboud den, Cokie-da-Fat-Cat comes waddlin' down frum Uppastairs, habbin just had his dinner, and he plumps himself down onna Bun Room Floor and says, "So whut kinda screw-up is happenin' now?"

So I told him and he sorta chuckled and began to clean his paws. "Oh dis is gonna be good!" He sed and he settled down to wook atta door wif inner-rest.

So frum Out-Inna-Gardin, we hear Dadda say, "Well, if we bof push it, it should go right in."

And den we hear Maman go, "Shhh! Don't talk so loud! Alla neighbours will be asleep. Whisper."

And Dadda goes, "I am whisperin!"

And Maman goes, "Well whisper quieter."

And we hear Dadda sigh, and den we hear Maman sort ob shufflin' around, and Dadda goes, "Whut's da matter now?"

And Maman kinda squeaks, "Don't start it!"

And Dadda says, rilly patiently, "I'm not startin' it! I'm only trying to see if I can turn onna lights so we can see where we're going!"

And Maman squeaks again, wike she does whin she's geddin' ready to panic, "Don't touch it!"

And Dadda's wike, "Charlotte, will you please calm down? I'm not going to start the Tracktor inna middle obba Nite!"

And Maman's voice goes back to Normal and we hear her say, "Good."

And we hear Dadda sorta mumble, "I'm not that stoopit."

And we hear Maman sorta mumble, "Just checking."

 Den dere was kinda a "oomph" sound.

And we heard Dadda say, "Whut are you trying to do?"

And Maman sed, "Push."

And den dere was quiet for a sekond and we herd Dadda say, "Um, not wike dat. Gotta take da Brake off."

And den Maman squeaks again, "Don't start it!"

And den we heard Dadda say, "I'm not startin' it!"

And dey are kinda screamin' at each udder by whisperin', which makes dem sound kinda wike dey are strangling. And Missy starts chuckling, which makes our habbytat sorta start bouncing up-and-down.

So den we hear Dadda say, "Bugger off, Dawg." and we know datta Dawg is now gettin' unner foots. Den Maman says, "Marc, go sit down!" So we know dat he's not listenin', eidder.

Anna Cokie-cat chortles and says to us: "Bedder and Bedder. Glad I came down."

And den we hear Maman say to Dadda, "So it's just push it innu it's Houz, right?"

And Dadda says, "Dat would be it, 'cept for a hump."

And Maman says, "Hump?"

And Dadda says, "Step, rilly. Door sill. Up and over."

And he adds, "Onna count ob Three...Wun...Two...Free!"

And dere issa sound ob rollin', anna Dawg barks, "Wook Out!"

And Dadda shouts, kinda muffled wike, "Shut up!"

And den we hear, also kinda muffled-wike, Maman's voice: "Do we stop pushing or does it just go through the back wall?"

At which point dere issa almighty Bang! And Dadda calls out, "Stop pushin'!" anna Dawg barks, "Wook Out!" again.

And den we hear nuffin' for aboud ten sekonds, 'cept da sound ob Maman and Dadda breathing.

Den Da Dawg pipes up, "Wanna play ball?"

And we hear Dadda say, "Bugger off, Dawg." and ob course Maman hasta 'splain to him, "You can't ebben see your ball inna Dark!" anna Dawg calls back, all sulky-wike, "Course I can! I'm a dawg."

And den we hear da Hay Bin opin and Maman and Dadda are rustlin' around innit.

And den Dadda opins da Door, and dere's Cokie-da-Fat-Cat, starin' up att'im.

And Dadda says, "Whut are you wookin' at, Cat?"

Anna Fat-Cat gets his paw unner-neaf ob him and scurries outta da way as Dadda comes stompin inna door wiffa arm-load ob hay. And Outside, Inna Back Gardin, we can hear Da Dawg scramblin' affta his ball, shoutin' joyously, "Gedda ball! Gedda ball! Gedda ball!"

And Maman says to him, "Wast time, Marc. Wast time!" inna loud whisper, and we hear da sound obba ball whoosin' fru da Nite air and thuddin' onna grass, and den da sound obba Dawg scramblin' afta it, goin', "Gedda ball! Gedda ball! Gotta gedda ball!"

And den Maman anna Dawg come innu da Houz, wiffa Dawg bringin' his ball in wif him, becos dat's his job.

Den a widdle water, whenna Catz is back Uppystairs where dey belong, anna Dawg has put his ball away in his Toy-Baskit, and we hab got our Hay and our pellets and our fresh wadder and eaten our Salads and Treats, and Maman and Dadda hab turned offa BunLight and said, "nite Bunnies!"

We hear Maman say to Dadda, "Well, dat was inner'restin'."

And we heared Dadda say to Maman frumma bedroom, "And it's ober."

And Maman sed, "Where's da Dawg? Hab you seed him?"

And Dadda sed, "He's trying to help me take off my shoes. Damnnit, Dawg, will you ged oud'd'da way!"

And frumma bedroom, heer comes da Dawg, scrurrying, calling, "Wook out!" 

----------------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 9:28 AM EDT

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Y'know, we heer at Our Warren can ged innu more stuff by just sitting around Doing Nuffin, still den most bunnies can ged innu by moving along at High Speeds.

So Maman had given us dose phone buks dat I typed about inna last Blog, and dat wassa'nudder ob dose Unique Disasters Inna Annuals Ob Maman, Queen ob Chaos.

Dis time da Disaster was mostly Fanks to Mr Mouse. Dis is onna'count obba Fakt dat none obba rest ob us bunnies rilly cared forda phone buks or found dem at all inner-restin cept for Mouse, but he gotta whole hang outta whut Maman calls "Makin' Confetti" right off and soon was tail deep inna'stuff. I meen dat his whole Habbytat was just  cubbered  wiffa stuf - widdle, tiny bits ob Mouse-chewed phone buk. It was 'mazin' alla werk dat bunny had put innu it!

And dis wuld all hab bin cute and hokay by Maman if he had kept it in his habbytat, except dat Mouse wikes to share. And so he spent a wotta time kicking da Confetti all ober da BunRoom Floor, where it was picked up by Dawg innocently wandering feets, and no-so-innocently wandering Catz and dere tails. 

Beep-da-Udder-Cat took a reel fondness toda Confetti and dragged bits obbit wif her All Ober da Houz. 

So when it showed up inna Lounge where ebben Bunnies don't go, Maman threw a fit.

And heer she comes innu da BunRoom wiffa full hed ob steam on, and stands ober Mouse and she says,

"Wookit, Mouse. In da werds ob Belinda Bunny, "I can't be havin' wif dis" and whut I can't be havin' with is this Mess you're causing all over this houz. Dere is Confetti inna Dining Room, and inna Sitting Room, and I ebben hab bin pickin' it outta da laundry baskit. Now I don't mind you habbin' had fun wiffa phone buk, but dis Confetti ob yours has got to Go." 

So Mouse grunted at her and went to sit in his corner pootie-box to sulk. And, so, Maman went off Uppastairs to call Dadda, cos Maman isn't stoopit and she's not aboud to try and clean up da whole fing ob Mouse's Habbytat wif him innit on her own, wiffout habbin' Dadda dere who Mouse Respekts.

So just afta Maman swept out, heer comes da Dawg, followed by Beep (who owns da Dawg) wif Cokie-da-Fat-Cat stumpin' along inna aggrivated-sorta way behind.

Anna Dawg says to us, "Hey BunnyRabbits, whut's up? You got  enny food becos I am outta kibble and I am hungree."

And he begins snufflilng ober da floor, wooking for stuff.

And Beep sits down unner'neaf ob MissyBun and me, cos she knows dat dis irrytates da pooties outta Missy, who hates catz, but becos she is unnerneaf ob us, Missy can't do a  fing aboud'dit. 

Catz just lub to be irrytatin'. They don't ebben hab to fink aboud doing it; it just comes to dem to do it nat'churally, assa ebberyday fing.

Anna Dawg wooks at Beep, kinda startled, wike he has suddinly been smacked inna hed wiffa Thot, and he says to Beep, "Hey! You know da Rool! No Catz Inna Bun Room!"

And Beep wooks at him, and bwinks her eye-lids and says inna bored voice, "Whutebber."  

And meanwhile, Cokie-Cat goes to lie down by Mouse.

So Beebe-Bunny!! who libs acrosst da way frum Mouse, calls ober to Mouse and says, "YO! Mouse! You gots catz!" and he says it wike habbin' "catz" is sum kinda Social Disease or sumfing (which it is), and starts moobing his Belubbed Suffie to da back obba Habbytat, away frum any stray Cat-cooties dat might be flying fru da air.

Now ob course, since Beebe's Belubbed Stuffie rilly is a plush, stuffie toy-bunny, Beebe hasta sort ob gently nudge her wif his nose to ged her to moob ennywheres, BUT onna'count obba Fakt dat Beebe doesn't realise dat his Belubbed Stuffie rilly issa plush, stuffie toy-bunny, and finks dat it issa a reel bunnyrabbit dat has come to lib wif him since CloverBun, his wife-bun, left forda Rainbow Bridge, Beeb has kinda gone a widdle OverBoard, and finks dat he hasta talk to his Belubbed Stuffie wif widdle grunts and honks wike it is a rilly elderly, deaf bunny. 

So Beebe is dere in his habbytat, honkin' and gruntin' away to his Belubbed Stuffie and warning it aboudda Cat-cooties dat he is sure, in his addled widdle bunny-brain, are streaming offa Cokie-cat who is unnerneaf ob Mouse's Habbytat. 

Anna Dawg is by us, sorta starin' in perplexity at Beep, who is unnerneaf ob Our Habbytat, not moobin', and violatin' da No Catz Inna BunRoom! Rool.

And den, ob course, dere is Cokie (who issa 40Lb. Maine Coon which is wun Rilly Big Fat Cat) who us unnerneaf ob Mouse's habbytat, and Mouse is alreaddy inna Bad Mood onna'count obba Fakt dat Maman has just told him dat she's gonna Clean Out Alla Confetti dat he's werked so hard to make outta his phone buk.

Just so you hab a clear pikchur ob how fings are at just dat sekond.

Soda Dawg begins to frown, cos heer's Beep, violating a Rool and she doesn't care. And he's habbin' a Hard Time puzzling dis out, cos dis Dawg puzzles easy, lemme tell you.

And just aboud den, Mouse peers ober da side ob his habbytat and sees Cokie-da-Fat-Cat down below and he shouts out, "Hey Cat! Ged out!"

And Cokie wooks up, flips his tail (which is an insult in "cat") and says, "Yeah. Right."

And I'm wike, "Why are you Catz in such a bad mood?"

Anna Dawg says, "Dadda sed dere issa Werld Wide Shortage Ob Cat Kibble. And dere Bowl is empty. Dey down to habbin Wun Meal a Day at Nite frumma can!" And den he wooks around proudly and says, "But dere is Dawg Kibble - cos I hab just et it - and dere is Bunny Pellets cos I hab just eated all dem what was onna floor. Maman says I amma Reg'lar Vacuum Cleaner On Legs! But dere is NO Cat Kibble inna Whole Wide Werld becos dere issa Werld Wide Shortage ob Cat Kibble." 

And MissyBun stawts laffin'.  

Becos,

Furst ob All she hates Catz, onna'count obba Fakt dat some mean catz had teased her whin she wassa widdle babby, before Unkle Michael in Noo Yawk rescued her, and

Sekond ob All becos Cokie had made fun ob her a widdle while ago by telling her dat dere wassa Werld Wide Shortage Ob Bunny Pellets and dat we would hab to eat Hay for days and days.

And just about dat sekond, Mouse got 'nnoyed becos Cokie wasn't moobing frum unnerneaf ob his Habbytat wike he'd been told.

So Mouse peed on sum ob his Confetti dat he had made frumma Phon buk and kicked it ober da side obba Habbytat and da Confetti showered down onna Cokie-Cat. 

And Cokie-Cat yells, "Ewwww! Rabbit-Cooties!" and bounces up inna air and takes off outta BunRom Door as fast as his feets can carry him.

And becos da Dawg is stoopit, he runs afta Cokie woffin, "No Catz Inna Bun Room! No Catz Inna Bun Room!" wike he'd been da one who was enforcing da Rool, and not Mr Mouse wif his smelly Confetti.

So now they are atta doorway toda BunRoom and Cokie turned himself around and is he ebber 'nnoyed. Cos now he wants innu da BunRoom to yell at Mouse and heers a Border Collie, clogging uppa doorway. So Cokie toda Dawg,

"Moob aside, Dawg! I'm comin' back in cos I wanna werd wif dat Mouse!"

Anna Dawg is standing atta BunRoom door, blockin' uppa whole fing, and he says toda Cokie-Cat, "No Catz Inna Bun Room! You know da Rool: No Catz Inna Bun Room! No Catz Inna Bun Room!"

Anna Cokie-Cat, who has bits ob wet Contetti stickin' toda top ob his hed, wooks atta Dawg and says inna rilly, lebbel, ebben voice, "Dawg. Ged. Outta. My. Way."

Anna Dawg wooks puzzled fora momint, and den alla suddin, sumfing wike a grenade goes off inside ob his Border Collie Hed, and he gibs out dis giant, fur-flattening "WOOF!", right inna Cokie-Cat's face.

Anna Cat just stands dere. And you can kinda wike see da whole  Anger fing just growing bigger and bigger behind his eyes, sorta inflatin' wike a wadder balloon fulla acid. And den it pops.

Anna Cokie-Cat does no more den reach back wif wunna his big frunt paws, balled up wif alla claws tucked up inside obbit, and WHAM! he punches da Dawg right onna nose. 

Anna Dawg, who issa rilly justa Big Baby (as Maman says) lets out dis involuntary yelp! and goes off wooking for Maman so fast dat he geds paw-spin onna Bun Room floor.

So, suddinly, BOF Catz anna Dawg are now runnin' at High Speeds outta da BunRoom, and all Three obb'em are screamin' dere heds off for Maman.

And Maman is comin' Downnastairs frumma Office, ennyways, so she gets mobbed inna Dining Room wif all Three obba two Catz anna Dawg, all yellin' datta Udder Wun started It.

So Maman finds a chair, and checks ober da Dawg to see if dere is enny damage toda Dawg-nose dat she shuld talk toda V-E-T aboud, but dere issn't, onna'count obba Fakt dat Cokie had tucked up his claws and only nailed da Dawg inna nose wif his paw. So Maman puts da Dawg Outside inna Back Gardin in order to distract his 'tenshin frum worryin' aboudda State ob His Nose (and since his batteries was kinda low ennyways afta habbin' used uppa'wotta wattage wif dat "woof", distractin' him wasn't hard. It just took a few squirrels.).

And den she checks ober da Cokie Cat and saw dat dere was nuffin da matter wif him dat she needed to talk ober wiffa V-E-T. And she piked da bits ob Confetti offa top ob his hed and told him dat he hadda "Stop 'nnoyin' Mr Mouse. It isn't nice."

And den she commed innu da BunRoom and stands ober Mouse, and she wooks down at him and says, "And as pertains to you, Mister..." 

And Mouse wooks up at her and glares, cos he was, wike, still totally 'nnoyed ober just aboud ebberyfing dat had been going on.

And Maman continued, "And as pertains to you, Mister Mouse, you are habbin' your habbytat cleaned out as soon as your Dadda comes home. Because in the immortal werds ob Belinda Bunny, I can't be habbin wif dis!"

 ---------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 9:34 AM EDT

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Maman gabe us phone buks.

I'm not sure why, but I can tell you dis: Dere is no pleasing hoomins. ou can try all you wike, but no madder how hard you try, you can't please dem. Dey will allus find sumfing to complain aboud.

And dey talk aboud bunnies being picky! Lemme tell you... 

But, ennyways, Maman gibbed us phone buks.

She gabe MissyBun and me a whole one, and then she took a second one and divided it in half and gabe half each to Beebe (and the Stuffie) and to Mouse.

So we're all looking at 'em like, "Whut's dis do?" onna'count obba Fakt that the phone buks are just sitting onna bottom ob our habbytats just doing nuffin.

And Maman says to us, "You play wiff'em."

So I nibble onna corner ob Missy's and my phone buk, and it's not especially tasty, and so I'm wike, "Hokay, so it's not rilly food. So whut does it do?"

And Maman is wike, "Alla bunnies onna PetBunny has dem. Now you do, too!"

And she is all Bright and Cheerful, wike dis is sum kinda Big Deal.

And Missy pushes our phone buk wif her nose and says, "I dunno. It takes up a whole wotta floor space!" 

And dis is troo, onna'count obba Fakt datta phone buk is Big, and cuts down onna room Missy needs to lie down in, because she issa Big Beautiful Bunny Gurl ob Gen'rous Propor'shuns.

And ober in their habbytat, Beebe anna Stuffie are just staring at their halffa-phone buk wike dey're puzzled by da whole presence obba fing, and Beebe calls out softly, "Yo! Whutdaheck is dis supposed to do?"

And ober in his habbytat, Mouse is wike, "Beats me, but I don't wike it."

And he lunges at it, and dere's dis tearing sound anna page comes loose.

And dere's Mouse, skidding around inna middle ob his habbytat, wif his butt onna piece obba page frumma phone buk. And he calls ober, "Well, dis is kinda inner'resting!"

So dis takes up, wike da whole day dat we're sitting, wooking atta phone buks taking up space in our habbytats, and wondering whuttsamatta wif Maman dat she put dem dere.

Anna Cokie Fat-Cat comes by and axts us, "Howcome you gots phone buks? Gonna hab pizza delibbered?"

And Missy charges toda side obba habbytat and shouts, "Don't you just wish You hadda phone buk, Cat! But you don't! So dere!" And she does her sassy tail-twitch and starts up her "Rabbits rool! Cats drool!" cheer dat is gonna ged us innu sum kinda trubble wun ob dees days.

But dis time, Cokie just flipped his tail at her and left, onna'count obba Fakt datta Dawg was pushing him frum behind wif his nose, chanting "No cats inna Bun Room. No cats inna Bun Room. No cats inna Bun Room" ober and ober. Border Collies is wike dat. Per-sis-tent.

So Beebe and da rest ob us hadda Nap and den Maman waked us up to gib us Organic Cherry Tomatoes. And whin we didn't seem too enthusiastic aboudda Organic Cherry Tomatoes, she handed 'round sum Baby Organic Carrots, which was worf waking up for.

And Maman axted us, "Why aren't you playing wif your phone buks?"

And Missy is wike, "Show us whut dey do!"

And so Maman opins da phone buks for us.

Well, now each phone buk is now takin' up twice as much space as it did before, and Maman hasta moob our Hay Baskits so we still hab sum space to walk around in ('specially Missy and  me, onna'count obba Fakt dat Missy issa Rilly Big, Beautiful Bunny Gurl ob Serriously Gen'rus Propor'shuns). 

And Beebe anna Stuffie just habba sniff 'round dere phone buk and go back to napping. It's not rilly in dere way (cos dey are bof onna small side), and Beebe doesn't care, just so he hassa Stuffie to groom and grumble to, just wike it's Clover. Yestidday, Maman removed da sekond pootie pan frum Beebe's habbytat, so now Beebe finks he hasta share his pootie pan wiffa Stuffie, and he's not pleased dat he hasta share. Beebe nebber has shared ennyfing well, which is why he and Clover had two pootie pans inna furst place, so he's watching his pootie box carefully, just in case da Stuffie mite use it. 

Life inna Warren is not uncomplicated.

So Maman camed back innu Da Bun Room again about tea-time and we all had a turn at Playtime inna BunPen onna Screen Porch onna'count obba Fakt dat it was nice outside in Joisey, and whin we got back to our habbytats, the phone buks was still dere.

So Mouse is wike, "Dis sucks!"

And he starts attacking.

And he's diggin' atta phone buk. And den he starts tearing atta paper pages, and crunching dem, and scrunching dem, and ripping dem up ALL OBER DA HABBYTAT! Dere are paper pages ebberywheres in Mouse's habbytat! And da whole place wooks, inna werds ob Dadda, "Wike a right rubbish tip."

Because Maman and Dadda camed in frumma Sitting Room drawn byda racket Mouse was making, to see Whutdaheck was going on inna Bun Room. 

And Missy heared dem coming furst and she sed to Mouse, "Now you're gonna ged it. Wookit dat mess in your habbytat!"

And Mouse sed, "I don't care. I'm tired ob habbin' dis stoopit phone buk takin' up half my habbytat. Why'd Maman ebben put it in heer inna furst pwace?"

 And whin Maman camed in she geds all hextcited and says, "Whut a Good Mousekiss! He's playing wif his phone buk! Isn't dat too cute?"

And we're wike, "Whutdaheck?"

And darned if she doesn't gib him a Baby Organic Carrot for making a Mess and a Racket!

So, ob course, dat only enourages him.

So now he's really goin' atta phone buk, tearing up paper pages and tossing dem alla'round da habbytat, and tossing toys, and banging innu stuff as he hauls dat fing up-an-down his habbytat. 

And Maman says to Dadda, "Remember that phone Grace lost and kept getting a bill from?"

And Dadda sed, "The one she thought she lost down an airplane toilet on her way into the Hurricane Katrina Rescue?" 

And Maman sed, "Yes. That one. She kept getting a bill from it. I'll bet she never lost it down the toilet at all. The Bunnies in The Herd stole it, and now they're having Mouse look up all the numbers they want for it."

"And by tomorrow morning, they'll be dialing furiously." 

And Maman nodded. "Yup. Wait'll Grace gets that bill."

So den Maman and Dadda gabe us our salads, wif more Organic Cherry Tomatoes, and our Pellets, and sum Raisins. And while she was waiting forda Dawg to come in frum his Last Patrol, Maman reached innu our habbytat and ran her thumb along da pages in Missy and my phone buk.

"See guys?" She says.

Well, I didn't wike da sound and charged ober and nipped dose pages, and Maman says, "Dat's my Cutie Georgie-Boy!" and I'm sitting dere, wike, *glare* 

And den she does it again!

And Missy's ears come forward, until dey almost touch togedder atta tip ob her nose.

And for sum reason, Maman and Dadda find dis hilarious, so dey do da page-wiffa-thumb-nail fing two or three MORE times, just to watch Missy ears moob forwards until dey almost touch togedder atta tip ob her nose.

And Maman says to Dadda, "Only Mouse seems to ged da hang ob playing wiffa phone buk. Da rest ob 'em don't seem to wike dem."

And Dadda sed, "Well, leeb da phone buks ober nite and see if dey are still dere inna morning."

And den dey sed, "Nite, Bunnies!" and shut offa Bun Room Light and went to bed.

And Mouse is dere, standing inna pile ob paper pages, wiffa remnants ob his salad alla'round, inna Dark, and he says, "Dey didn't ebben clean uppa mess! Well, dis sucks ebben more!"

And he starts diggin' again. And Mouse is diggin' and scrunchin' and tearing and ripping and pulling and tossing and bumping innu Hebbin only knows whut, onna'count obba Fakt dat it's preddy much wike Dark inna Bun Room, and ebberyfing is clanking togedder and rocking back-and-forf, making a Huge Racket.

And Dadda calls out frumma Bed Room downna Hallway, "Hey Mouse! Stop playing wif dat phone buk and go to bed!"

Dere is no pleasing hoomins.

----------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 7:08 AM EDT

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 So da wedder in Noo Joisey has been terrible, lemme tell you. Rain, rain rain! Our Warren's wedder-person onna tellybishion who is named Genn "Hurricane" Schwartz (No kiddin'! If you do not beeleeb me, just go to http://www.nbc10.com and see dat he issa reel person! And he knows wedder, lemme tell you!)

So ennyways, dis wedder-person says dat dere is ebben MORE rain comin' which means dat we bunnies cannot go out onna Screen Porch to have our Playtime inna BunPen, which MissyBun says is "No Fair!"

So she was finkin'bout habbin' a Sulk aboud dis but decided not to onna'count obba Fakt dat dere is too much Hay inna habbytat dat needs to be eaten.  

So den we hadda concentrate on sharing four Baby Organic Carrots, but Missy doesn't share well, onna'count obba Fakt dat she is a Big Gurly Bun ob Gen'rous P'porshuns. So I hadda rilly concentrate on dis or she would hab had alla Baby Organic Carrots, ebben da wun dat I was currently chewing on!

Dis was wunna those days whin if you wanted an Baby Organic Carrot, you almost hadda sit onna darned fing yourself, or she was gonna hab it out frum unner'neaf'ob you. She is my bunwife and I lub her, but dere are sum fings dat are just mine.

Which brings me toda subjeckt ob cooties.

So, onna'count obba Fakt dat it is raining, we gots Da Dawg coming fru alla time, wooking for Catz.

Now dis is not normally A Problem, onna'count obba Fakt dat Da Dawg is just doing his Job (and Jobs are berry important in Border Collie lives - just so you know.), enforcing Maman's Rool aboud No Catz Allowed Inna Bun Room, which is Fine Wif Us, 'cept forda Fakt dat it is raining,  and Nobun has been allowed out for Playtime inna BunPen onna Screen Porch, and we are habbin' to share Baby Organic Carrots, and ebberybun is getting just a Widdle Short-Tempered ober da Whole Issue.

Hang on, I'm getting toda cooties.

And den, don't you know dat Cokie-da-Fat-Cat just hasta come paddlin' innu da Bun Room!

And he's wike, "Hey, Bunnies!"

And Mouse is wike, "Whudda you want?"

And Colie says, "My breakfast. I am oncest again a Fortygotten Cat, OnAlone, Wif NO FOOD."

Anna Dawg, who has come in behinda Cat says, "Wookit Cat, I was just Uppastairs eatin' outta your bowl, and I know dere is kibble innit!"

Anna Cat sighed and sank down onna floor and sed, "Yeah and now it is cobbered in Dawg-cooties, so I am starbing agin."

And suddinly, Beebe-Bunny!! wooks ober da side ob his habbytat and notices datta Dawg is unner'neaf ob him and calls out, "YO! Da Dawg is eatin' Green Bag!"

And Missy and I habba wook, and Beebe is right: dere issa Dawg, snuffling along da floorin his absent-minded way, just sorta casually sucking up Rabbit-Chow dat's fallen outta our crocks!

And Missy is wike, "HEY!"

Becos Missy gets berry possessive where food is concerned. She has dis saying dat she says she lerned frum Dadda dat goes sumfing wike, "Whuts yours is mine and whut's mine's me own."  It means, Missy says, dat she Roolz Da Werld, but I don't beeleeb her.

Anna Dawg wooks up, sorta 'pologetic and says, "I'm only eatin' dis stuff cos my tummy has cat-cooties frumma kitty-kibble. Dis Bunny-Chow is as good as grass which I can't go out to eat inna Back Gardin onna'count obba Fakt dat it is raining."

And Mouse wooks ober da side and says, "Yeah, and suppose if dose Bunny-Chow fings hab bunny-cooties. Den whut?" And he starts to waf.

And Missy stomps and hollars, "Bunnies don't hab cooties!" 

And Cokie wooks up and says, "Sure dey do. Which is why I don't eat Bunny kibble."

And Missy glares and says, "And we don't eat kibble, you stoopit Cat. We eats Green Bag."

"And I eats Bloo Bag." Says Cokie. "So whut's your point?"

Anna Dawg says, "I eat enny-Bag-dat's-goin'. Dadda says dat dawgs is nat'chural scabbengers and will eat ennyfing." 

And Cokie says, "Which is why you are gonna be sik-onna-cawpet. Cos by eating ennyfing is how you gets cooties."

Anna Dawg says, "So? It's not wike cooties is a Social Stigma, wike horkin' uppa hairball in public. Sum fings shuld be done in private!"

And Mouse says, "Which is why Stoopit Dawgs and Cats leeb Cooties all ober da Houz and upset Maman and Dadda. Rabbits onna udder paw, do not hork or ged sik-onna-cawpet, which makes us nat'churlly superior. And it also means dat We do not hab Cooties, but we're not nat'churally prejudiced aboutit or ennyfing. Wike Catz." 

Anna Cat says, "Wookit, bunnies hab cooties. Ebberyfing inna werld has cooties ob wun sort or anudder. It's just dat Sum cooties we can cope wif, and udders, we can't. I can't cope wif dawg-cooties on my kibble. Kibble is bad enuf wiffout habbin' dawg-cooties slobbered all'ober it. "

So Mouse, who watches a whole wotta Law & Order onna tellybishion cos Maman lets him, jumps rite on dat argumint wike a reel-live District At'Turney and says, 

"So den, only certin kinds ob cooties bother you? You are nat'churally prejudiced inna matter ob cooties?"

And Missy pipes right up and says, "I know I am. I don't wike ennybunnies' cooties 'cept for my own. My own are hokay, and dat's not admitting dat I hab cooties cos HouseBunnies don't hab cooties."

And ob course Da Dawg is wooking puzzled by dis, onna'count obba Fakt dat dis whole argumint has just gone to a whole new level that has passed right ober his hed wike a cloud inna perfektly bloo sky.

Anna Cat frowns a widdle and says to Mouse, "Wookit, BunnyRabbit, I don't eat Green Bag, so I gots no quarrel wif bunny-cooties; I ebben play wif your Hay. So dis means dat I am impartial to most kinds ob cooties, 'cept dawg-cooties on my kibble, which as ebberybunny and kitty knows, are fatal to catz. Which brings me rite back toda Main Problem: I amma Starbing Cat, OnAlone Inna Midst Ob Plenty. Or sumfing wike dat onna'count obba Fakt dat my kibble is currently cubbered in dawg-cooties and un-eatable. Which is why I am heer."

Anna Dawg is beginnin' to whine to himself, "Mamannnnnn." And goes ober to sit byda Door Toda Back Gardin.

And Mouse goes, "Ah HA! So you admit that you are prejudiced agains Dawgs, then! So you are not a believer in the Equality ob Alla Us Togedder!"

Anna Cat wooks at Mouse wike he's lost a few obba crayons outta his box and says, "Whutebber made you fink I ebber did, BunnyRabbit? Habbin't you read my tee-shirt? It says, 'C-A-T' and dis is My Chowder."

And Mouse says, "And mine says 'R-A-B-B-I-T' and dis is Our Warren. And your point is?"

Anna Dawg puts his nose up and jingles da bells dat Maman has hung onna door-knob obba Door Toda Back Garden. Den he starts whining again, a widdle bit louder, "Mamaaaaaannnnnnn!"

Anna Cokie-Cat geds up and starts waving his Fat-Cat plumey tail by Mouse's habbytat, which is not a rilly smart fing to do, not whin Mouse is getting all puffed up innu dis four-pound ball ob energy motyvated by 'nnoyance. 

So we habba Dawg jingling da bells dat are 'tached toda doorknob obba Door Toda Back Gardin and whining for Maman, and we habba Cat 'noying an already 'noyed houzrabbit. And it is raining again outside, so Nobunny can go out onna Screen Porch for enny Playtime inna BunPen.

Dere can be no Good Ending to dis story. 

But...

The End ob it is dat Dadda commed Downnastairs frumma Office, and discobbered datta Dawg had been Sik-Onna-Bun-Room-Floor, and datta Cokie-Cat had wabbed his tail oncest too many times by Mouse's habbytat, so Mouse had flied up-inna-air, done a one-eighty-kick-flip and sprayed da Cat wif bunny-pee, which had upset da Fat-Cat so much dat Dadda found him half-way between da Kitchin anna Bun Room habbin' a hork...

And I can't tell you da number ob cooties dat were spread alla'round da place, but Dadda hadda axt Maman forda boddle ob cleener and sum kitchin roll.

So now dere are are no more cooties-inna-Bun-Room. Dadda says it's just gonna be Us Buggers forda resta'daday...

-------------------------- by George 

Posted by Our Warren at 12:30 PM EDT

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Well, dey made it back.

Fruma Fifty-Thousand Mile Check-Up atta V-E-Ts - bof Catz anna Dawg, all in rellytibly Good Order, as Dadda would say.

Yeah.

And when dey finally got home, Da Dawg went right ourside innu da Back Gardin, and Cokie-da-Fat-Cat came to sit down wif us inna Bun Room, while Beep-da-Udder-Cat went Uppastairs to habba lie-down. 

And Cokie sed ebberyfing went off hokay, hexcept... 

Da Dawg isn't too bright, sumhow, you know? He's all enthusiastic aboud gedding his leash on, for one fing, so when Maman says,

"Sit, Marc. Sit!"

He does. And when she says,

"Heel, Marc!"

He goes to stand wif his nose right by Maman's left knee. Nebber mind dat she gots da leash in her right hand, ob course, so dat it wraps itself around her legs or ennyfing.

It's just wike, as soon as he heers does werds, "Heel, Marc!" his whole mission-in-life is to get dat dawg-nose right uppa'gainst Maman's left knee and keep it dere.

So Maman gets herself untangled, puts her walkin'-stick inna right hand, anna leash in her left hand (which doesn't werk too well, onna'count obba Fakt dat her left hand issa wun wif alla os-stay-oh arthor-itis, anna new-rop-apthy stuff innit).

And off they go.

Followed by Dadda lugging one cat-carrier afta anudder, bof obb'em wif howlin' Catz inside.

"So dere I am, inna middle obba seat, " sed Cokie as he was sittin inna middle obba Bun Room floor afta dey had all gotten home. Since Da Dawg was outside, he figgered datta No Catz Inna Bun Room Rool didn't apply to him atta momint.

"Inna middle obba back seat wif Beep howlin' on one side ob me anna Stoopit Dawg onna udder. And Beep is howlin' 'Help! Help!' ebbery udder sekond, anna Stoopit Dawg is shiftin' frum foot-to-foot singin': 'Ridin' inna car! Ridin' inna car!' like it's sum kinda song.

"And dere's Dadda dribin' and talkin' to Maman aboudda 'Kids' and I'm finkin' to myself, 'You know, dis sucks. I'm stuffed innu dis tiny carrier, bouncin' around inna back seat obba stoopit Buick wif dis Idiot Beep on one side ob me yeowlin' 'Help! Help' ebbery udder sekond anna Stoopit Border Collie singin' 'Ridin' Inna Car! Ridin' Inna Car!' an' heer I am, goin' toda V-E-Ts for sum Fifty-Thousand Mile Check-Up I don't ebben need! Dis SUCKS!"

And den, " Continued Cokie. "Alla suddin, da car comes slidin' toa stop. And there goes my face, smooshed uppa'gainsta'front panel obba carrier! And Maman calls out,

'We're heer, ebberybunny!'

"And I'm finkin' to myself, 'Heer? Atta V-E-Ts'? Allreddy?

"And suddinly, da Stoopit Dawg, who has been singin' happily 'Ridin' Inna Car! Ridin' Inna Car!' suddinly barks out, 'We're atta V-E-Ts! Oh NO! Sumbunny help us! We're atta V-E-Ts! I smell V-E-Ts!'

"And I'm wike, 'So wheredaheck do you fink we've been goin' to?'

"Anna Dawg is wike, 'I dunno! I dunno! I was Ridin' Inna Car an' alla'suddin, we're Atta V-E-Ts! HELP!'

"Anna Dawg and I are habbin' to scream at each udder, becos Beep is still in her carrier nextest to me, goin' 'Help! Help!' ebbery udder sekond, anna Dawg and I are habbin' to yell to be herd ober her. 

"And inna meantime, Dadda is geddin' outta da car, and Maman is strugglin' to ged herself untangled frum her pocketbook, and her walkin'-stick and alla her gen'ral stuff, an' now Da Dawg is rilly beginnin' to wail, yellin' for whoebber to come and sabe us. 

"Like dat's gonna happin'.

"And Beep is still howlin' 'Help! Help!' at reg'lar innervals.

"Anna Dawg is justa'bout beside himself whinin', 'I smell V-E-Ts! I Smell V-E-Ts! Oh no! Oh no! OH NO! I SMELL V-E-Ts!'

"So Maman opins Da Dawg's door and tells him to 'Stay' - which means dat she wants him to not moob outta his seat inna car and make an hextcape, which, being a rellytibly tall Border Collie and Maman being a rellytibly short hoomin who can't run - issa distinct possybility. He could hextcape going toda V-E-Ts, but just becos Maman has told him to 'Stay', his One-Mission-In-Life is to do hextactly whut Maman tells him to do, which is to sit wif his backside glued toda car seat until she tells him it's hokay to moobit. 

"Dis is why Dawgs are such idiots: dey do whutebber dey are told to do. It is why Dawgs will allus be inferior to Catz and it is disgusting.

"So den Maman grabs hold obba leash and tells Da Dawg, 'Comeby' and he geds outta da car and goes to sit wif his whole stoopit hed locked  uppa'gainst her left knee. 

"Den Beep gets hauled outta da car and den me.

"And den we see da V-E-Ts. And we getta see Doctor Batts, who I ged to see ebbery year and sumtimes if I am not feeling too good! 

"But as toda Fifty Thousand-Mile Check-Up, let me tell you sumfing, BunnyRabbit, it sucks! It just sucks! Alla dat being crammed innu a carrier, habbin' to sit nextest to Beep yellin' for 'help' anna Dawg singin' an' den losin' whut's left ob his tiny mind - lemme tell you, it just sucks! It shouldn't happen to a cat and it shouldn't happen, especially to ME!

"But seeing Doctor Batts again, well, that wasn't too bad. Great guy, talks like Dadda, makes a fuss, doesn't mess me aboud too much, 'cept he has dis fetish aboud lookin' at cat-teefs - but aside frum alla  dat stuff, it seems dat he likes catz. Which makes himpreddy hokay as far as hoomins goes.

"Butta Fifty-Thousan Mile Check-Up? Dat's a whole 'nudder bunny, BunnyRabbit! Anna story dat's better left to anudder time!"

And wif dat, Cokie got up offa Bun Room floor and paddled out.

And Alla Us Togedder watched him go.

And den MissyBun wooked at me, kinda thoughtful-wike and sed, "So, do we tell him dat ennybun habbin da name ob doctor issa V-E-T?"

Anna rest ob us wooked at each udder for a minit and den shaked our heads.

"Nahhhh."

-------------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 12:57 PM EDT

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Yestidday, Maman was preddy sik, and taked alla her meddysins and stuff and was preddy quiet where we were concerned, but you have to allus pay 'Tenshun, cos ebben when hoomins are being quiet, stuff can be going on rite unner'neaf ob your nose.

 So dis morning Cokie-da-Fat-Cat and Beep-da-Udder-Cat came downnastairs frumma 'Partmint and plumped demselbs down inna Bun Room, onna'count obba Fakt dat Da Dawg was still out inna Back Gardin, patrollin' his yard for sqirrels making fun ob him, and wasn't there to enforce da No Catz Inna Bun Room Rule.

So I sed to Cokie, "Guess whut, PuddyCat?"

And Cokie wooked up at me and sed, "Whut?"

And I sed, "I heered Maman onna tellyphone yestidday, calling da V-E-T and making anna'Pointmint for you, Beep, da Dawg and wunna Phil's Catz to go habba Fifty-thousand Mile Check-Up there tiday."

And Cokie scrambled to his feets and yeowled, "WHUT?"

And I began again, rilly patiently, in case he haddn't paid 'Tension to me da Furst Time, "I heered Maman onna tellyphone yestidday and she was calling da V-E-T,"

"Waidaminit!" Yelled Cokie. "How'd you know it was "our" V-E-T? Maman knows a lotta V-E-Ts!"

And frum unner'neaf ob Beebe anna Stuffie's habbytat, where she was wooking for strands of hay, Beep  pipes up, "Maman knows Dr. Skolkin, and Dr. Doolen and dey are Bunny V-E-Ts. We don't go to see dem. Not ebber."

And Missy poked her nose outta our habbytat, trying to getta'wook at Beep unner'neaf ob Beebe's habbytat, and  she sed, "Wookit, Cat, Maman wasn't talkin' to Dr. Sharin, so no 'Pointmint was being made for enny ob us. Maman s'pifikically sed, 'Cokie', 'Gidget' (dis is Beep's proper name), 'Zachary-Marcus, Border-Collie' and dat stoopit widdle cat, 'Munchkin' dat libs wif Phil-anna-Lanna. So dat just proobs datta 'Pointmint was made for you."

And Cokie wooked alla'round da Bun Room, reel perplexed wike, and he sed, "But whut did I do? Why do I hab to go toda V-E-Ts?"

"It's your Fifty-Thousand Mile Check-Up." Sed Mouse, munching on sum pellets for his morning snack. "Ebberybunny knows aboudda Fifty-thousand Mile Check-Up."

And Cokie glared and sed it wassn't time for his Fifty-Thousand Mile Check-Up onna'count obba Fakt dat he had already been taken inna car toda "Groomers" TWICE in one year for "Lion Cuts" and one time the Groomer-person had ebben messed up and gibben him a bow (which wassa Indiggity onna'count obba Fakt dat he issa Boy-Cat), so dat hadda count for "sumfing". So dere was no way dat he was in line for enny trip inna car going toda V-E-Ts for enny Fifty-Thousand Mile Check-Up!

And Missy laffed and sed, "Sorry, Cat, but you're going. Maman alreddy hassa carrier out for you."

And Cokie pointed his nose inna air and sed, "I am too BIG for enny carrier. I amma 40-pound Maine Coon Cat dat is too big for enny kitty-carrier. Dadda sed so."

And Missy laffed again and sed, "Dat didn't stop Dadda frum stuffin' you in dere da wast time you hadda go sumplace."

And den Beep piped up again and she sed, "Well, Dadda can't take us ALL, and Maman isn't strong enuf to carry us."

And Cokie nodded. "Yeah. He sed I was gonna break da handle onna carrier."

"And dat's why your udder names are 'Tonnes-Ob-Fun' and 'Fat-Shit'." Sed Missy, holding her tummy and still laffin.

"And Dadda calls you 'Bug-A-Lugs', Rabbit!" growled Cokie.

And Missy stopped laffin', poked her nose fru da habbytat wif her ears rilly flat and sed, "I dare you to come ober heer nextest to dis habbytat and say dat, Fat-Boy!"

And suddinly Beebe stops pushing da Stuffie toward da hay baskit and calls out: "YO! Pull dat tail! Pull dat tail! Pull dat tail waaaaaay back!"

Which goes to show you dat, while he might hab trubble libbin inna present reality, Beebe hassa rilly good grasp on his Long-Term memory and can refrence events that took place before I ebben joined Our Warren - like when MissyBun gotta'hold ob da tail obba Queen Cat, KayCee Kitty, (who now libs wif Phil-anna-Lanna), and just pulled and pulled and pulled, and wouldn't let go, until Maman and Dadda came running toda rescue and saved KayCee frum being pulled butt-furst innu Missy's habbytat. 

So Missy took a widdle bow, cos dat wassa Memorable Tail-Pull, and Cokie knowed bedder den to stick his fluffy tail ennywhere's near where Missy could grab on.  

And I sed, "Well, Sistah Beffy has been heer for a coupla days. And she is gonna be heer t'nite, and she likes going toda V-E-Ts."

And then Beep stopped browsing for hay, sat down and started to groom herself, rilly neatly, and she sed, "When Sistah Beffy owned me, she sed I wassa berry 'peshul kitty and dat is why she allus took me fora Fifty-Thousand Mile Check-Up - " and then she stopped, and gasped, "What am I saying?"

 And Mouse looked ober and grunted, "Well, dere you go, KittyCat! You are 'peshul again tiday!"

 So Cokie plopped down onna floor again and started moaning aboud how "terrible" ebberyfing was. So Missy told him to "Shaddup" and dat he needed to "grow a pair" cos he was such a 'fraidy cat.

"I'm not gonna grow ennyfing." Sed Cokie. "Cos if I do, I'll sure as heck wind up atta V-E-T's habbin it cut off or fixed and that isn't happining, lemme tell you!"

And Missy bounced around da habbytat for awhile wiffa saucy butt-twitch, singin', "Sucks to be you!" *bounce* "Sucks to be you!" *bounce* 

So, afta awhile, when I stopped bouncing along wif Missy - becos she is One Big Gen'rously P'porshuned Bunny-Gurl and when she bounces, I bounce right along wif her - I axted Cokie, "So, whutcha'gonna do now, PuddyCat?"

And Cokie wooked alla'round da Bun Room, and ob course, dere is literally, no place to hide. In fakt, inna Whole Houz, dere is No Place To Hide, onna'count obba Fakt dat no madder where you go, eidder Maman or Dadda alreaddy knows abouddit onna'count obba Fakt dat Maman has alreddy run da vacuum cleaner innu it, somehow or anudder.  Ob course, dere are summ small places dat are harder to ged innu den udders, but Cokie's too big for enny ob dem and he knows it.

And den, suddinly, we culd Alla Us Togedder hear Da Dawg barking out inna Back Gardin. And he was just shouting at sum squirrels uppa tree, "Go on, keep it up! I gots ALL DAY, you stoopit bunch ob tree-rats! ALL DAY! You hear me? ALL DAY!"

And den Cokie began to smile, and he stretched himself out onna floor and rolled ober onto his back, waving his paws inna air, wike he does whin he's rilly pleased wif himself, and he sed,

"I'm gonna tell da Dawg dat he's going for his Fifty-Thousand Mile Check-Up."

------------  By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 11:07 AM EDT

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Hullo. George heer.

And I hab been reading da morning Noospapers wif Maman again, and I hab been noticing fings...

1.) Why issit dat dere are so menny hoomins who write aboutta subjekt ob war but don't know a fing aboud history? I meen it! Dis morning inna Guardian Online, you wouldn't beeleeb how meeny commints dere are aboudda "History Obba United States Military" being made by hoomins who don't know ennyfing aboudda United States, military history, politics, World War II, da Korean War, Viet Nam, the conduct of war in gneral, economics, religion, philosophy, logic - in short, we're talking totally ignorant hoomins - but dey gots opinions uppa wahzoo! And - whoa, baby! - are they intent on expressing dere 'pinions and being taken berry seriously, indeed! Now I know ebberybun is entitled to hab an opinion, and to express dat opinion, but, good grief, do dey all hab to be so proud ob displaying dere ignorance, too? And being so proud ob dat ignorance? It's wike, ebberybunny inna werld hassa 'puter and ebberybunny inna werld is convinced dat only they know what's Right! Dey hab berry high opinions ob dere High Opinions - 'cept dere 'pinions seem to be based onna pile ob preddy worfless assumptions garnered from spurious sources... Maman sed inna wotta cases you can ebben tell which course book dey read last...

And sum hoomins call us "dumb bunnies"! Whoa!

2.) How come Noospapers, Tellybishons and wotta Media outlets feel it's necessary to gib ebbery lunatic inna werld a forum in which to express whutebber commint dey hab onna'top ob their heds? I meen, don't we turn onna Noos to lern whut's going on inna werld, not to hear whut local-nutcase-inna-street finks abouddit? 

I just wanna know whut's happinin', y'know? I can figger out whut to fink abouddit on my own - Fank you! I didn't NEED Barbara Walters anna "View", or Oprah, or Matt, Ann and whut's-her-name anna whole "Today Show" or "Dateline" to know how to form my own 'pinions, so I sureasheck don't NEED janedownnastreet to tell me whut I shuld be finking, eidder!

It's my mind, and I'll make it up, Hokay? 

3.) Hoomins are obsessed wif Wedder. I dunno why. I mean, wookit, it's gonna rain or it's not. If it rains, are you gonna stop it? No. If it doesn't rain, are you gonna make it? No. Den stop werrying abouddit. It eidder will rain or it won't rain. Maps won't help. Colourful graphics won't help. Da wedder-person issa 21st Century version obba prehistoric shaman doin' a dance around da fire - just wif physics. So face it, folks! If da clouds aren't right, dere will be no rain. Alla da werrying inna werld won't make it happin. Ged ober it and ged on to sumfing dat can be changed - like gibbin' a home to homeless bunnies. Go on, you can do it!  

4.)  Where does milk come frum? I been confoozled aboud dis, so mebbe sumbun can help me out. Dere usta be cows around heer. Maman sed so. She sed dat when she wassa liddle gurl, dere were sebben dairy farms inna area dat bringed milk to ebberybunny's home. Now dere are none. Dere usta (cos Maman told me so!) be dairy farms all ober Noo Joisey, wif lotsa cows, so dat you usta know where da cows libbed dat gabe da milk dat hadda name obba dairy printed onna label onna gallon ob milk dat you bought atta super markit. You could go and visit dose cows! Yeah! Well, now you can't. Alla milk comes frum places nobun has ebber seen! Is weird or what? Maman and Dadda hab dribed inna car to da places listed onna jugs ob milk, and dere are NO COWS at dat place! So where is alla milk coming frum? Issit real milk dat is inna jugs dat are marked 2%? Or is dat just (as Maman has s'spekted) coloured wadder? Dadda, who has hadda relationship wif Genuine Cows says dat real milk hassa'boudda 10% milk fat, so dat meens dat wherebber da poor cows is rilly, only part ob dere milk is ebber going to hoomins. Isn't dat sad? 

And whoebber prooved dat real milk is bad for hoomins, ennyways? (Maman wants to know dis, onna'count obba Fakt dat she buyed sum ice cream dat sed it was "No Sugar Added" and it turned out to hab FAKE CHEMICAL SUGAR innit! She sed it was nasty. "Looks like frozen chalk." is whut she told Dadda. So she wants to know whutdaheck is up wif ice cream dat nobunny wants ennybunny to hab ennyfing dat tastes good ennymores.) She sed datta bestest ice cream inna werld is Cornish Vanilla, onna'count obba Fakt dat it is full cream. I fink raisins are a bedder treat, but that's MY OPINION and I am entitled to it!

5.) Why do hoomins choose to grow old? Bunnies don't grow old, dey grow 'Tellygint, Hunny sed. So why do hoomins just wanna grow "old"? It's wike I sed to Maman, dat wif alla books and stuff around, you'd fink dat hoomins would take advantage ob dere longer life-spans to read and go to school and stuff, but dey just seem to wanta stay wif whutebber education dey hab gotten when dey was young. I don't geddit, onna'count obba Fakt dat I am busy trying to grow as 'Tellygint as I possibly can. And dere issa wotta stuff dat I still hab to learn! Now Hunny was 13 anna half years old before he went toda Rainbow Bridge, so he wassa Berry 'Tellygint bunny! So I gotta lotta werk to do to fill his footsprints! And I'm werkin' onnit. 

But I can't seeda point in growing "old". I mean, whut's "old" dat it is sumfing to wanna be? Now 'Tellygint seems to be sumfing worf-while, but  "old" seems to be preddy useless assa end-in-itself.

And dis is preddy much where I happin to be atta momint. Sorta wondering, you know? Just sittin' here, in my habbytat wif MissyBun, just sittin' and wonderin', you know, kinda, "Whuttaheck?"  and eatin' sum hay.

So, ennyways, if sumbun could answer summa da questions going on heer, it would be "gratefully accepted" heer at Our Warren.

------------------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 1:34 PM EDT

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YEAH!

 You bedder believe it!

 Dere issa Natshunal Pet Food Shortage going on ALL OBER DA WERLD!!

Ebben Cokie-da-Fat-Cat is werried now, as you can see by dis pikchur.

All dat is in his bowl is kibble. Dere are No Cans ob Fat-Cat-Food left inna Houz. Dadda sed so last night when he went Uppastairs to feed Da Catz in their apartmint. 

So dis morning, Cokie came Downnastairs, pounded through da Living Room, anna Dining Room, anna Kitchin and came on out innu Da Bun Room and axted:

"Hey Bunnies. You gots food?"

And Mr Mouse looks ober atta Cat and grunts, "Go away."

And den heer comes Da Dawg, onna run frumma Sitting Room where he has been watching Beeb-da-Udder-Cat habbin a nap. And ob course, Da Dawg is running onna'count obba Fakt dat No Cats Are Allowed Inna Bun Room and dere's Cokie-da-Fat-Cat, big as life, sitting inna middle obba Bun Room Floor, like no Rools pertain to him.

Anna Dawg slides to a stop inna doorway and barks, "No Catz Allowed Inna Bun Room!" atta top ob his voice.

Because this is "Whut Da Dawg Does".

So Cokie looks ober atta Dawg and den looks back at Alla Us Togedder and axts, "Wookit, Bunnies, dere is no canned food Uppastairs in Our Apartmint." And den he looks atta Dawg again and says, "And I heard dat dere was No Canned Dawg Food in your bowl Downnastairs heer, eidder!"

Anna Dawg stopped barking and thought abouddit for a minit and said, "You know whut, Cat? You're right!"

And Cokie sed, "I know I'm right. Dere issa Natshunal Werld Wide Shortage ob Pet Food!"

And I sed, "Oh no, Puddy Cat! You can't fool me twice on dat wun! You sed dat dere was no Werld-Wide Shortage ob Pellets when Maman sed dat dere was. And dat was only a coupla-days ago."

"And you'll notice dat we gots pellets." Said MissyBun, wooking innu her bowl, just to make sure.

"Yo!" Said Beebe-Bunny!! "Ebben da Stuffie says dat dere are pellets!" And sure enuf, da Stuffie was standing dere, habbin a look innu Beebe's pellet-crock and dere were pellets in dere. So Stuffie's don't lie.

So Cokie shaked his head and sed, "Wookit, guys, dere is NO FOOD. I'm telling you! Dere issa Werld-Wide Shortage!"

Anna Dawg sed, "Well, iffa Bunnies hab pellets, den how do you figger dat wun?"

Anna Cat sed, "Listen, Stoopit," (which issa Dawg's udder name) "I didn't hab enny canned food last nite. Beep didn't hab enny canned food last night - and didn't I ged to hear abouddit all nite! - and you didn't hab enny canned food last nite. LOOK IN YOUR BOWL! Whut do you see? You see KIBBLE! Da last refuge obba Terminally Deprived!"

And I'm wike, "Whutdaheck issa Cat talking about, 'Terminally Deprived'?"

"AND," continued Cokie. "Assa furder last straw, Da Bunnies hab gots no HAY!"

And sure enuf, we didn't.

Alla our Willow Baskits were empty.

Dere was no HAY for bunnies!

So Missy put on her Disapproving Rabbit face and sat down to sulk. 

Not that she is a "Big Fan" ob HAY, or ennyfing, it's just dat My Big Bunny-Gurl ob Gen'Rus Pro'porshuns is berry concerned wif fings dat she and I eats. In general.

So we all hadda wood around our habbytats, and sure enuf, dere was NO HAY ennywhere. Not a strand dat was worf eating and none had come in for our Morning Snack.

We had gotted Parsley, insted.

And Cokie sed, "You see? Werld-Wide Natshunal Shortage ob Pet Food. I told you! It's terrybul! We're deprived! We're reduced to being treated wike catz an' dawgs in shelters an' alleyways, we've been reduced to eating KIBBLE! Don't you see dat? WOOK IN YOUR BOWLS!"

Anna Dawg wooked up frum his bowl fulla kibble wif his mouth full and whuffled, "Yeah, and I'm eating mine before you buggers ged it."

And I'm wooking alla'round da habbytat ebberywheres for at least a few strands ob HAY onna'count obba Fakt dat I can't believe dere is none-at-all-not-ebben-unner-neaf-ob-Missy! I mean, dis is NOT RITE!

Anna Cat is just sitting dere onna Bun Room floor and he is howling.

And Beep-da-Udder-Cat is sitting dere onna Bun Room floor, and she is also howling.

Anna Dawg is tucked innu his bowl inna Kitchin and he's crunching KIBBLE like mad.

So dat means dat Alla Us Togedder inna Bun Room are infested wif Catz. 

So Mouse, who gets disgusted wif fings first, turns his back and pees inna gen'ral direkshun obba Catz. Just to sort ob show dat his patience is getting preddy thin in spots.

And doesn't dat just make Cokie take on worse?

So dat draws da 'tenshun ob Maman and she comes wandering innu da Bun Room wiffa her hands full ob clothes dat need to be washed inna washing machine.

Anna furst fing dat she does is axt whut alla Catz are doing inna Bun Room.

And dat beminds Da Dawg dat he's not doing his Job (And Border Collies are berry big on Jobs) so he rushes innu Da Bun Room all bossy and huffy wif his ruff puffed out wike he's been in dere alla'long telling da Catz to get out. 

And Maman is wike, "Why don't you go Outside and ged out frum unner my feets?"

Anna Dawg is wike, "Dere issa Werld-Wide Natshunal Shortage ob Pet Food!"

And Maman is wike, "Wookit, Stoopit, go outside and count your squirrels. Dadda and I hab to go to the store and buy critter food."

And Dadda calls out frum Uppastairs, "Don't put Da Dage out inna Back Gardin, dear! They're delivering a new bale of hay this morning! I just called!"

And Maman calls back, "Well then I'm putting him onna Screen Porch because he's InnaWay! And call your Catz! They're down here complaining!"

And Dadda calls down, "And well they might! We have to get canned food for them at the market today!"

And there's a whole lotta fuss and bother as Maman mooves Mouse so she can open uppa Screen Porch Door and letta Dawg go out there, and ob course, Cokie da Fat-Cat gets inna way obba door and gets squeezed, but that allus happins, and den Maman discubbers dat his hed is all wet onna'count obba Fakt dat Mouse has peed on him again, and Mouse and Beebe is trading insults, but Maman hasin't noticed dat, onna'count obba Fakt dat she is going to get a wet kitchen towel, which upsets Cokie, onna'count obba Fakt dat he doesn't like habbin' his hed washed by Maman cos she allus carries it too far, anna arrgymint between Mouse and Beeb is heatin' up and alla Maman and Dadda's clothes are onna floor anna Dawg is outside onna Screen Porch, barkin' his fool hed off (as Maman says)...

And den MissyBun stomps up to the door ob our Habbytat, plumps herself down, and glares down at Cokie-da-Fat-Cat. And she glares at him and den she starts yellin:

"Ha! You see dat, PuddyCat? Do you HEAR DAT? Dere is NO WERLD-WIDE NATSHUNAL SHORTAGE OB PET FOOD! You are NOT being treated wike no Cat-Inna-Shelter! You are not terminally deprived! You are just TERMINALLY STOOPIT! Dat's whut you are, Cat! A TERMINALLY STOOPIT CAT dat's been peed on by a bunny and had his face washed by Maman! And dere is NO WERLD-WIDE NATSHUNAL SHORTAGE OB PET FOOD! And dat's da LAST fing I wanna hear abouddit!"

And dat's preddy much, dat.

 ---------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:35 AM EDT

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You gotta hand it to Maman. She tries. She is rilly, rilly berry trying when she wants to be.

 Latest mess-up... 

She come innu da Bun Room and announces:

"Dere issa Werld-Wide Shortage ob Pellets onna'count obba Fakt dat dere has been a breakdown obba pipeline frum Alaska."

And she gibs us all dees round willow baskits fulla timothy hay.

And I'm wike, Whutdaheck, it's food, I'm eating it.

So dat's preddy much dat.

Den she comes in later, and she takes out dat willow baskits, fills dem wif more timmy hay, puts dem back innu our habbytats, and says da same fing aboutta "Werld-Wide Shortage ob Pellets".

And so, MissyBun, who lubs her pellets, goes ober to wook in our Pellet Crock, and sure enough, it's empty!

So Missy turns around and wooks at me and axts me "Whuttaheck?"

And since I gots my mouf fulla hay, I tell her, "Werld-wide shortage ob Pellets. Didn't you hear Maman?"

And Missy is wike, "You gotta be kiddin' me!"

So she sticks her nose back innu da pellet crock and snorts and alla dust left ober frumma pellets flies alla'round her hed. 

Den she comes ober to me, and sticks her nose in my face and it's all browny-green onna'count obba Fakt dat dere is pellet-bust all ober it.

And she says, "Hokay. Whut'cha gonna do abouddit?"

And I'm wike, "Um, hab sum hay?"

Which doesn't go ober too good wif Missy, onna'count obba Fakt dat she grabs her toy and tosses it innu da Pellet Crock. Den she goes to sit onna pootie-box and habba Fink, wearing her Disapproving Rabbit face.

 So it's getting to be Dark, and Maman and Dadda let ebbery bun habba widdle playtime out onna Screen Porch inna BunPen (which was nice, 'cept Da Dawg also hadda hab his Evening Bark wif alla'udder dawgs inna neighbourhood, which was annoying!) and Beebe gots brushed and had his face washed wiffa moist flannel, which he wiked because he misses being groomed by his CloverBunny anna stuffie-bunny dat Maman gibbed him to sleep wif doesn't do much obba job on grooming (although it seems to eat hay and it moobs around a widdle whin Maman strokes its ears. Very weird.).

So here we are in  Our Habbytats, and it's Dark, and Maman takes out da willow baskits and puts dem back in fulla timothy hay and dis time dere are rose petals, some dill leebs, and mint leebs, and sum parsley leebs all skattered ober da hay!

And I'm wike, WHOA! And I dive rite in.

And Dadda comes by and he says,

"Hey, what's up with you, Bug-a-Lugs?" to Missy, which makes her annoyed, so she gibs him wunna her glares. And Dadda says, "You're getting to be a fat cow, aren't you?"

 Now Dadda says dis to her inna nicest possibly way, and he smiles and pets her, but she just grumps and goes to sulk on her pootie box, which makes him laugh.  (Keep in mind dat dis issa man who wears Harewear tee-shirts to visit summa his customers!)

Now I'm sitting between da side obba Habbytat and da willow baskit, and Missy is onna udder side obba baskit, wif da most obba Our Habbytat behind her. So she toddles ober toda hay-baskit, hassa wook innit and hassa rose petal.

And while she's sampling da rose petal, a Cat wanders unnerneaf obba Habbytat. 

Well, dat preddy much figgers, because Da Dawg is outside On Patrol as Dadda calls it, and dat just means that he isn't heer to make sure dat dere are No Catz Inna Bun Room. So da Catz are taking Advantage, as usual.

And dis is Cokie-da-Fat-Cat, who takes Advantage ob Ebberyfing dat's going onna'count obba Fakt dat he says He Issa Furst Cat (whutebber dat means!).

And Cokie says to Missy, "Guess whut, Bug-a-Lugs?"

And Missy says, "Don't call me dat."

So Cokie says it again and wabes his tail just past da bottom obba habbytat where Missy can't get it.

Den Cokie says, "Guess whut, Bug-a-Lugs? Dere is no Werld-Wide Shortage ob Pellets. Maman just made dat up. Dat troo Fakt is dat you are FAT - good in Catz wike me, bad in bunnies wike you - and Maman and Dadda are concerned abouddit. And you know whut happins whin dey are concerned aboud sumfing - dey go off and Do Sumfing Abouddit, which in dis case means dat Bunnies Hab To Eat More Hay And Less Pellets."

And Missy is wike, "Whut?"

Anna Cat says, "Dere is no Werld-Wide Pellet Shortage, Bug-a-Lugs. Dere issa Whole Fifty-Pound Bag ob Green Bag inna car. I herd Dadda tawkin' to Phil."

And Missy is wike puffing out to almost twice her size in fur and she glares down atta Cokie-Cat and says, "WHUT?"

And Cokie says, "Clean out your ears, BunnyRabbit: Dere is no Werld-Wide Pellet Shortage. You hab bin had."

So Missy starts stomping around inna Habbytat and she's not inna good mood about dis at all.

So I'm still ober heer, between da side obba Habbytat anna willow baskit, and I'm eating hay wif alla herbs and stuff innit, and not saying ennyfing, because I hab preddy much growed to become a Fairly 'Tellygint rabbit.

And Maman and Dadda lets inna Dawg, who chases da Kitty-Cat right Uppastairs, onna'count obba Fakt dat dere are No Catz Inna Bun Room! And den Maman and Dadda says "'Nite Bunnies!" and dey turn offa Bun Room Light, and shuffle off to bed.

So dat's preddy much dat.

Except.

Missy is still mad.

So I'm munching hay, and she marches up to da willow baskit and gibs it a shub wif her hed, which kinda pushes da whole issue innu my face.

And she's wike, "Well?"

So I shake my hed clear obba hay, and push da baskit back to clear myself a widdle room, and I'm wike,

"Well, what?"

And she gibs da baskit anudder shub, and here I am wif my face buried again.

And she's wike, "So whutareya gonna DO abouddit?"

So I getta hay outta my nose and ears, and shub da baskit back at her. Because, you know, whut can I do aboud ennyfing? I'm a rabbit enjoying my evening hay. I mean, whuttaheck is going on here?

And Missy grabs da baskit in her teefies, piks it up and starts tippin' it. So I grab da udder side, and preddy soon, we're kind ob staggaring around inna Habbytat, wif dis baskit fulla hay between us, wif her jerkin' it wun way and me jerkin' it da udder. And I'm ober heer, fallin' ober play toys, and balls wif bells inn'em, and she's ober dere, wif most obba room, and she's just aboud wrecking da place wif her back end by careening innu crocks and stuff.

And den I heer Da Dawg come innu da Bun Room, along wif Maman and Dadda in dere baf-robes and slippers.

And I'm finking, "Geez! Dis is all I need!"

When suddinly, da baskit flips up innu da air, and alla hay, anna herbs and ebberfing, falls out.

And dere I am, wiffa Willow Baskit On My HED!

So I back out rilly fast, and ob course, onna'count obba Fakt dat I gots no room, because I'm backed innu a corner obba Habbytat, I bang my butt innu da side obba Habbytat, anna baskit filps up inna air again, and lands right-side up onna wadder crock!

Well, da Wadder Crock was Full. 

Whin da baskit landed onnit, it sorta emptied out on Missy and me.

Well, dat just sorta Putta Carrot Onna Salad for Missy. She grabbed her toy outta da empty Pellet Crock, wound up her hed, and slam-dunked dat toy rite innu da baskit.

It's a kinda big toy. Gots sum weight to it frum alla bells innit. Ennyways, it landed rite inna middle obba baskit and a lotta wadder comed out frum  unner'neaf obba crock, sumhow, and we got wetted again.

And you know whut?

Maman and Dadda went and got kitchen roll and dried us all off and made a big fuss ob Missy, telling her whut a special bunny she was, and how she was just so cute whin she throwed her toy, and so 'dorable and such a 'mazing bunnychild and stuff wike dat.

And den Maman filled dat stoopit pellet bowl!

YEAH!

 Well, you know, I like to have pitched a fit, but Missy had alreddy done it.

And den Maman gibbed each wun ob us a Raisin and sed, "I dunno why I reward you guys for bad behaviour."

And I'm finkin', "Guys? Whut guys? Dere were no guys, just Missy habbin' a fit ober da Werld-Wide Pellet Shortage dat don't exist. And, you're da wun who started it! 'Werld-Wide Pellet Shortage', indeed!"

----------------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 10:11 AM EDT

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And what is there left to say on a Clover-less day? Ouite a bit, actually.

This is Clover, Ms CloverBun of Our Warren, to give her proper name. And she was a very proper rabbit. Auntie Irene said she was the "most beautiful rabbit in the whole world." But Auntie Irene is a Cat-person. Still, she knows "beautiful" when she sees it.

Ms Clover came to Our Warren from Mawmie Grace who found her with her two sisters in a dumpster in Bis-Con-Sin. What a terrible way to begin life - discarded in a dumpster with your two sisters! Poor things. They were probably "just hutch bunnies" of the familiar destitute, back-yard untouchable caste, purchased at Easter as living cuddly toys and then gradually shoved out the door as "the kids lost interest" and "well, you know, the mess" and all the other associated, purely hoomin, excuses that robbed them of their dignity as fellow-travellers with whom we share this planet. Doesn't that just happen? As it never should.

But Mawmie Grace, who has a great heart as well as superior athletic skills (after all, anyone who guards our nation and spends their life taking care of soldiers, as she does, must, perforce, be an exceptional human being!) saved Clover, Jazzie and Pearlie Mae from the dumpster, and took them into The Herd who are all great friends of everybun at Our Warren.

And since that made The Herd fairly over-crowded at Christmas in 2002, and nobun should ever be homeless at Christmas! (even though that was never a possibility!), Maman told Mawmie Grace to pick one of the Three Sisters to come to live in Noo Joisey.

And Mawmie Grace selected Clover - the most beautiful grey agouti bunny of the three. 

Mainly To Remind Phil (who, as a newly-minted Petty Officer at Pensacola NAS, was insufferable on the subject of inter-service rivalries) That Army beat Navy in 2002!

So Clover joined a bunderground that was headed East.

Now a bunderground is a complicated affair involving any number of hoomins in any number of vehicles all moving in one general direction with Bunnies On Board. This particular bunderground involved a good-hearted person who accepted Clover from Mawmie Grace, who then met Auntie Laurie who was returning from a MidWest vacation in her RV, who allowed Clover to ride in comfort in her RV all the way to Upper New York State where she was dropped off with  Oskar Ten-Speed Bunny with a different Auntie Laurie (and that was his Forever home), where Clover was picked up by Maman and Dadda and driven to her Forever home, which was Our Warren.

 And this was a fairly simple bunderground. If you want to hear about a complicated one, then someday the story of The Great Tommy Tucker Bunderground will appear in this space. Now that is a true Miracle Story. 

But this is Clover's Story, and hers was a fairly simple bunderground from The Herd in Bis-con-sin to Our Warren in Noo Joisey.

And in Our Warren, Ms Clover settled down in her own habbytat and got to know Belinda and Hawthorn, and me,Hunny, and all the other bunnies who lived there. Most importantly, she stayed alert and learned from the bunnies who were already there, most especially from Belinda who, like her, was an English Spot sort of rabbit (and English Spots are famous for making up their minds about things!) and who had lived through serious surgical procedures and other medical emergencies. And Clover lived with Our Warren through the Dark Days of hoomin joys and sufferings, from one house to another, through the passings of parents, and the growing of Phil and Sistah Beffy, always watching, ever-calm and constantly growing more 'Tellygint as the days passed by. 

She met Beebe-Bunny!! Who was a bachelor-bunny always on the look-out for a bun-wife. And after he chewed his way into her calm, orderly habbytat and she read him the Roolz about living with her, she allowed him to move in with her. 

 Even though Beebe, a former school-bunny from the wilds of South Philadelphia, was several bricks shy of a full load, they formed a devoted bunny-bond as husbun and wife-bun. She kept him neat and tidy and he provided comic relief as Netherland Dwarf Hot-tot Bunnies (who are Ledgends in their own minds) freqently do.

It was the classic "Northern Marriage" - the Big Woman bonded to the classic Little (demented) Man.

But it was a strong bond, such as only bunnies make, that nothing could break.

 Then yesterday, Clover was unwell.

She refused her treats. She was straining to urinate. To hoomin eyes (never very discerning) she had that "inward" look that heralds disaster in all prey animals, that sent Maman running for the phone to call Our Warren's devoted physician and healer, Dr Sharin Skolkin. And Dr Sharin saw Clover at once, took x-rays, drew blood, ran tests, then had the surgeon see her and re-arrange his schedule so that Clover was at the top of the list for the next day's surgery. And wonderful veterinary doctor that she is, Dr Sharin even volunteered to give up her day off to assist at Clover's surgery - because Clover had been hiding (as prey animals will) a large bladder stone, and it had to come out. And Dr Sharin gave Clover a shot for the pain, some pre-surgery anti-biotics, and sent her back to the comfort of her bond-mate and her Warren over-night, with orders for her to return at first light for the next morning's operation.

And Clover returned to Our Warren in her carrier, got back in her tidy habbytat, and talked fings over with Beebe. She had been seen by Dr Sharin and by one of the best Bunny Surgeons in the whole State of Noo Joisey. She knew, from having known Belinda before her what it meant to have a "bladder stone" and what it meant to have "surgery", but she also had spoken with Hunny and she thus also knew The Lore, as do all bunnies, about The Rainbow Bridge. And Clover carefully weighed her options. 

And poor, addled Beebe. What to do about poor little Beebe whose conversation usually consisted of going around shouting "YO!"? Well, he was a Senior Bun, and Maman always cared for Alla Us Togedder. NoBunny was ever OnAlone in Our Warren.

And Clover made her own choice: she left Our Warren for The Rainbow Bridge.

On her own terms, in her own time, of her own choosing.

Leaving us here Below, in a Clover-less world, in the height of Summer.

--------------By Maman

(If you like to know more about The Rainbow Bridge as bunnies know it, please ready "George's Christmas Story" - December 14 - 16, 2005) 

Posted by Our Warren at 10:17 AM EDT

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"The world is so full of a number of things, That I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings!" --- Robert Louis Stevenson

Maman readed that to us lastest night. She reads to us preddy much a lot which is why, she says, we are "fairly 'Tellygint rabbits". Maman told Sistah Beffy dat she hasta also read out loud to her babby so that da babby will grow up and be 'Tellygint, and Sistah Beffy agreed wif Maman that she would read to her babby alla time, which, she sed, is 'zactly whut Maman inflicted on her and her brudder, Phil, and dat whut goes around, comes around - dat in dis case, cos she was readed to assa babby, she was gonna read to her babby, too.

Beffy also sed, "Appuls don't fall far frum trees." Which is good, I fink, because it makes it a whole wot easier to spot where appuls are likely to be onna'count obba Fakt dat trees are easier to see den appuls lying onna ground.

Annyways, whut Maman readed to us was 'zactly troo: because no madder whut bad things you mite be hearing, the werld is full ob enny number ob wunnerful fings.

Wike Castles.

I know two bunnies who hab Castles ob dere berry own.

Yeah!

Issn't dat wunnerful? We're talking REEL CASTLES heer. Just wike castles dat hab kings and queens, and dooks and udder impawtant stuff inn'em.

My Cuzzin, Little Ashy, who lives inna place called SoCal has wun - his berry own Castle!

Here issa pikchur obbit, wif Little Ashy actchually inside obbit so you will know that it is his berry own Castle!

Now, not ebberybunny I know is lucky enough to have a Castle ob their berry own, but this is Little Ashy's.

And heer he is sitting in it like Sir Gwain, pacing the battlements, and as Little Ashy says, onna wookout for vampires to slay and kingdoms to rule ober benevolently, cos dis is Whut Housebunnies Do.

Well yes, bunnies do dream! And why not? We share dreams and stories wif each udder and tell tales anna Lore, and this is how once, inna Long-Ago-Wilderness, we lived through long Winter nights inna snug burrows, deep unnerground.  Dis is pawt obba Lore as it was told to me, George, by meHunny, Senior Bun before he passed over The Rainbow Bridge. 

And dat issa Lore, but now we lib as Urban Rabbits, as HouseBunnies, and now we share the stories ob our lives through blogs anna 'puter. And not ebbery life is sad. And dis is because all lives are filled wif wall-to-wall possibilities, like the possibility of being a Happy Bunny! 

Yeah!

Now heer is My Cuzzin, Bailey, who libs in New York Citty which is onna East Coast. And dis issa pikchur ob Bailey libbing in his berry own NOO Castle!

Yeah!

Bailey hassa Castle ob his berry own now, preddy much like Little Ashy's, hextcept that this one is onna East Coast and it belongs to Bailey, and dis is his pikchur, so you can see dat dis is also reel - a Bun in His Castle. 

Yeah! 

And Baily and Little Ashy are Happy HouseRabbits! 

So you can see, all acrosst da United States frumma West Coast, where Little Ashy libs alla way toda East Coast where Bailey libs, dere are Urban Rabbits living happily as HouseBunnies, habbin Castles and Kingdoms, Rulers ob Romaine, an' Dukes and Duchesses ob Dandelions Dominions.

Yes, and dis is not to say that ebbery bunny life is filled with purpose-built palaces and cultivated Fields of Fragrant Herbs. We all know that this isn't so. There is still too much suffering and too many homeless bunnies in the werld as it is. And if you habba home to offer to a bunny, you habba means to help change dis terrible Fakt.

But there are wunnerful tales told of Ashy van Helsing, Vampire Slayer! And brilliant stories to which to listen about brave Bailey Fire-Fighter, Rescue-Truck Driver! And there are a few stories, here and there, too, about Little George, Story-Teller-and-All-Purpose-Bunny-Bard.

And there are homes with Bunny Rooms, and PlayRooms, and rooms like Our Warren's Screen Porch that are devoted just to bunnies. There are hearts that are open, and hearts that will always be open to the love of bunnies.

For dis we are Berry Fankful.

And because ob dis dere will allus be Happy Bunnies! 

So, while our werld is not yet perfekt, it is still a werld full of wonders and delight. 

--------- By George 

Posted by Our Warren at 12:50 PM EDT

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Hab you ebber herd ob "Disapproving Rabbits"?

Then you know whut I mean.

If you habben't herd ob "Disapproving Rabbits" then Lemme Tell You, it's a Whole 'Nuther Bunny.

We're talking about MissyBun Hawpa heer, my gorgeous bun-wife ob Gen'rus Proporshuns - or Wun Big, Whole-lotta Disapproving Loppy-eared Houserabbit Bunny when fings don't happin to be going in hextactly her way.

Now dis is Missy onna Good Day:

 Dis wuld be whin ebberyfin is happining da way dat makes Missy a Happy Bunny.

Dis issa Good Day. 

Good fings are going on alla'round her and she is pleased wif ebberyfing and ebberybunny.

And down heer issa'nudder pikchur ob Missy assa Top Bun ob Our Warren:

  You can see heer dat she issa Lady Ob All Dat She Suveys.

And this wuld inklood Ebberyfing dat happins to be ebberwheres.

And dis is Fakt.

You don't argue wiffa bunny who is wooking wike Missy is wooking in dis pikchur.

Not if you hab half a brain. Dis issa pikchur obba Seriously In-Charge Rabbit.

So when you see MissyBun Hawpa, who normally wooks wike she does in dees two pikchurs, and she is suddinly wooking at you wike dis:

As she is wooking at you in dis widdle pikchur ober heer (and I can't seem to ged alla pikchurs to come out to be the same size, no madder how hard I try wif dis Blog program!)...

And you notis her bond-mate (which would be me) is wooking at you a lot like I happin to wooking wike in dis pikchur down ober heer...

Then wuld be a good time to figger out dat fings are NOT happining da way that they should be happining.

Because these are da faces of Seriously Disapproving Rabbits.

Rabbits who are Seriously Disappointed in fings as they are.

 And the sight of these disappointed and disapproving faces means that you really need to find a way to FIX STUFF!

Fast!

Because these are the faces of rabbits who have taken the measure of their treatment/environment/social or/or cultural context and found it to be substantially wanting in some fundamental aspect!

It could be that there is a diminished or unclean water/pellet or TREAT  bowl.

It could be a lack of Playtime onna Screen Porch.

There could be Catz sumwheres. (Dis issa fing dat will allus upset Missy!)

You just nebber know whut it is gonna be nextest, but you can be sure dat it is gonna be sumfing. 

And you know how it goes:

Wun momint you hab Happy Bunnies, anna nextest: 

Thump!

And there goes da hoomin day, shot to pieces, all onna'count obba Fakt dat you now hab Disapproving Rabbits on your hands and YOU hab to do sumfing to fix whutebber fing has caused da Disapproval inna furst place. 

Because that's da Furst Rool inna Bunny Bill ob Rites: Da Bunny Is Allus Rite. No Exceptions. 

Which means dat Missy is allus rite.

Now da Catz anna Dawg say dat dis is somehow unFair wif alla dis. But Our Warren says it is fundamentally Fair, onna'count obba Fakt dat we were heer Furst. 

Which is Troo.

Bunnies are allus Furst. 

So just be careful dat alla fings around you are going as they should - because da last fing you wanna add to your day issa Bunch ob Disapproving Rabbits.

 Hab a nice day!

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

Posted by Our Warren at 12:11 PM EDT

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