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Friday, 10 August 2007
George's 8th Strand (2007); Day Number 10
Now Playing: This is Scary...

Well, you know, here I am with my mouth full of Salad again.

Isn't it nice?

MissyBun says all food is nice.

Dill is nice, Argula is nice, Cilantro is very nice; Mint is espcially nice when it comes with the lavender-coloured flowers attached, and Romaine lettuce, even the pale green parts nearest the core, aren't at all bad! And pellets are nice when you can pry them out of Maman (who has been miserly with them of late, for reasons unknown, but probably has to do with us having been at the v-e-t's!) and of course, fresh, fragrant Hay is totally wunnerful, as are ALL kinds of Froot.

Yes, Food is very, very nice!

And so here am I, George, with my mouth full, little prehensile lips reaching for more, and Maman says to me,

"Hey George, read this!"

So I got myself lifted up into her lap, set my paws on Dadda's Desk (Onna'count of-the-Fakt that Maman's 'Puter is still lying in pieces on her Study floor) and here is THIS editorial in today's Telegraph Online Edition!

It is about how hoomin women who are middle-aged are now werried about being skinny. Did you know that there are women who are starving themselves in the midst of plenty?

So I axted myself, "Why?"

And Maman said, "They are afraid."

And that didn't make much sense to me, so I hopped offa Maman's lap and went over to the futon where MissyBun was eating Romaine to axt her.

"So, howcome hoomins are so concerned about not eating when they got alla this food?"

And Missy looked at me. "Whut? Sumfing's wrong wiffa food?"

"Nope. Maman said they are afraid."

Missy's ears came up and sort of together as she frowned.

Now I know there are hoomins who say that bunnies do not frown because we do not have the facial muscles to frown with, or the brains to be capable of producing frown-inducing thoughts - which just says to me that these hoomins have never lived with HouseRabbits and have no practical hextperience with us. It seems to me that, no matter whut the Truth happens to be, there is always some ivy-encrusted tower-dweller who insists (in print) to know better and has secured a government grant in order to publish it abroad. And they all seem to cherish the hope of meeting Oprah - live, on-air, in front of millions - so they can demonstrate their ignorance on a grand scale.

But bunnies *do* frown, lemme tell you!

So Missy frowned, tore off anudder chunk of Romaine, and said, "That is so stoopit, it's skerry. Next off, sumbun will say it's a "syn-rome" and they'll all allow themselves to be herded off to a "re-hab" in order to hab more obbit."

And I was, like, "Whut?"

And Missy went on, "It's wike alla dis stuff I read about dis Brit-chik, you know? She gets innu trubble, den goes innu sumplace called 're-hab' and comes out to hab the same trubble all ober again. Dat's why it is called 're-hab' - so you can hab whutebber you had furst ob all, and hab it a sekond or fird or forf time and not be blamed for it. You can just say, 'I bin to re-hab' and so it's all hokay, or else sumbun sends you to 're-hab' so you can go ahead and hab it all ober again."

And I thought about this and it sounded just about right. There are lots of news articles about hoomins going into and out of "re-hab" so it really does seem like that's the place hoomins go to get out of having to deal with the consequences of whatever they've done.

"But how," I axt Missy. "Does this have ennyFing to do with not eating when there is lots to eat?"

And Missy grabbed a stem of Dill and began sucking it in, longways. "Because it's anudder way of making something that is Bad seem to be Good. Everybun knows that Starvation is Bad, but if you are rich, successful, middle-aged, and have everything, then you do it and it becomes Good. It's wike they are sayin',  'Oh wook at ME! I am rich and hab ebberyfing, so now I'm gonna Starve myself so *ebberybun* will notice ME!' Only hoomins could fink dat up, lemme tell you."

And Missy stopped long enough to grab a sprig of Mint. "Wookit yestidday." She went on, munching a large leaf. "Unkul Peter got up at six o'clock inna morning to go reskue a bunny-inna-cage dat was axtchually starvin', right?"

And I said, "Right." because I had heard Maman talking to Uncle Peter last night on the tellyphone, and that's what they had been talking about.

"Hokay." Said Missy. "So whut do you fink dat poor bunny did when Unkul Peter got it safely toda North Georgia House Rabbit Society Bunny Shelter?"

"Um," I guessed. "Had salad?" (Because I know Unkul Peter. He is a rilly soft-touch who hands out treats and salad like he has the key to the produce department at the local supermarket! You should have been here while he was visiting! It was great, rilly great!)

"You betcha." Said Missy. "Whin Maman wnt to gedda drink ob wadder, I talked to Sheeba and she told me alla'bout it. Da poor, starving bunny who was left behind by stoopit, cruel hoomins wif no way ob getting food for herself was so hungry dat she ate ebberyfing dat was put in frunt ob her - salad, pellets, and 'specially alla fresh hay she could stuff in. Because she was thin all rite - thin and cobbered in ticks and fleas - but she wasn't all proud ob herself for being thin. She was starving! And you fink for Wun Momint dat she cared whut udder bunnies thought about how she wooked? No way! All she cared about was habbin' enuf food to stay alive. Anna folks atta North Georgia House Rabbit Society gave her food and she ate it because she knew 'zactly whut it was like to be left behind and be genuinely hungry. She knew dat it was Bad. And dat is whut da hoomins are missing!"

"Dat being left behind and starving is bad." I said.

Missy nodded. "Dat starvation obba body begins wif starvation obba spirit. OnAlone is terrible, which is why we bunnies make such a fuss aboudd'it. Nobunny shuld ebber be left OnAlone. Not ebber."

"So," I ventued, "You're saying that alla these hoomins who are starving themselves when alla this food is alla'round them have been left OnAlone?"

MissyBun nodded. "It's part of this 're-hab' fing. 'Re-hab' is just anudder way ob leavin' ebberybun OnAlone to hab alla dis stuff all ober again wif nobunny caring enuf to stay wif dem to stop da cycle ob OnAlone. Sumtimes I fink dat hoomins need to be 'dopted as much as bunnies, only they won't do it. Now if hoomins wuld allow themselves to be 'dopted innu proper warrens, well, it mite make a dif'frence."

So I grabbed a hunk of Romaine and tore off some. Chewing does help you Fink!

And I Fink dat MissyBun might be right - that this "re-habbing" of Fings might not be a good idea at all, that it might be a way of trying to make Bad Fings seem to be Good Fings, so that even OnAlone can seem like a Good Fing when we Bunnies all know that OnAlone is the worst Fing that can befall ennybunny. Maybe 'doption into a stable, kind Warren is the only way to end OnAlone - for EveryBun!

But I don't know. This is a Huge Discussion, maybe, and Huge can be scary when you are used to allus being prey. Maybe we're just getting Started with it, and we need to talk aboudd'it with very many dif'frunt voices.

But one Fing I do know: Belinda was right! NoBunny must ever be OnAlone!

----------------------------- By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 9:09 AM EDT
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Wednesday, 8 August 2007
George's 8th Strand (2007); Day Number 8
Now Playing: Tea Room & Me

Good Morning!

I had trouble accessing The Hay Diaries yesterday, so there wasn't an entry (for which I apologise).

Was it Dadda's 'Puter and Maman not getting along? Could be. She called it enough Bad Names to make it never want to type for her ever again when she couldn't get into The Hay Diaries the Furst Time. The Fing is, she has a Rilly Short Fuse when she is werking on the 'Puter, especially if it is not Her 'Puter (which she pretends to Unnerstand).

Lucky for her (and by extension, me) the parts to fix her 'Puter are sus'posed to be here by This Evening.

Yeah!

So, Ennyways, this morning, she and I were reading The Telegraph Online Edition Newspaper, just like she always did when she lived in England. And we found this article about a Tea Room in Brighton,  that began a conversation between Maman and Dadda.

The Tea Room, which is named "The Tea Cosy" is owned by two men named David Daly and James Green, and they have Established Rules of Etiquette for those who wish to patonise their establishment. The Rules state plainly: no cell-phones in the tea rooms, no dunking biscuits (hoomins' treats), keeping elbws off the table (I have heard Maman Speak to Phil and SistaBeth about this!), hold your tea-cup and saucer properly, and do not speak insultingly of Her Majesty, The Queen or other members of the Royal Family.

(MissyBun says that this "not speaking insultingly" should extend to her, as well, and she will look into how "one" has this kind of "Rool" written into a "Code of Behaviour".

I told her "Good Luck with that." and she told me I should mind my own business about learning Top Bunning and she would mind Hers. Just so you know how *that* went.)

So Maman read this article out-loud to Dadda and he said, "Good luck to them! I would go there."

And Maman said, "I agree, although some people are calling them 'Tea Nazis' because they feel insisting upon a Code of Etiquette is restrictive."

"I hope their place is heaving." Said Dadda. "Just wall-to-wall. And that those fellows make a mint."

"It says here that if you order coffee, the waiter will show you to the door and point out the three near-by 'Starbucks'." Said Maman. "As he should do. Imagine the nerve of some idiot ordering coffee in a tea room. Stupid people. It says here that one guy banged his head because he was using his cell-phone beneath the table when the owner came in."

"Serves him right." Said Dadda. "People need manners."

"I used to have manners before I married you." Maman went on, flipping through the article with the mouse-pointer thingy. "My coffee table in Waddington never had a thing on it so I could serve tea instantly. I always brewed tea in a pot, and used proper cups. It's only since I returned to the States that I've dropped that like a live grenade. My Grandmother would have said I should have trained you better."

And Dadda made snorty noises into his Big Blue Tea Vat. "I don't train." he said.

And Maman said, "Yes you do, and I have let you get away with murder. You drink tea out of an over-sized cup."

"I've been doing that for ages." Said Dadda, setting his vat down on the floor beside the futon where he was reading.

Over across the room, Cokie-the-Fat-Cat stuck his head up and looked. So did Beep-the-Udder-Cat from where she was sitting in the doorway to Maman's Study, where she was being watched by Da Dawg, who was in Herding Mode this morning. I stretched out full-length on the futon and looked down over the side into the vat. This was because we all knew the same Fing at the same Time: Dadda's tea-cup had four spoon-fulls of sugar in it and it was on the floor now, within reach of four-foots!

And of course, food-stealing is Not Legal. You can axt ennybunny and they will tell you that. However, Search and Recovery *can* be, if you can get away with that. The Rules are not Certain and sumtimes you can manage the Recovery part and sumtimes you can't. A lot of it depends on Dadda's mood at the moment he catches you and how good your Cute is going when that moment comes.

So Cokie gave a preliminary "Chirp" and started across the floor wearing his "Innerested" look. So he got to within claiming distance of the Big Blue Cup before ennybunny else. 

"What would you have done in my Grandmother's house, then?" Asked Maman. "Because she would have given you regular-sized tea-cups and had the pot served, with a chinz cosy and sugar tongs, too."

"I would have done however she wanted." Dadda replied.

"Yes, well, I've let you get away with having that horrible one-pint vat." Said Maman.

"I've been drinking out of this cup," Said Dadda. "For more years than I can count, even before being married to you, dear."

"Yes and well, I should never have let it into the house."

And there was Cokie-the-Fat-Cat, sitting with his paws in front of him, and his head extending outwards towards Dadda's cup as far as he could extend it. And I was looking down, over the side of the futon, and so was Missy. And also, by this time, Da Dawg had figgered out that sumfing was going on behind him, so he was looking over his shoulder with his 'Lert Look on, trying to figure out what was so "Inneresting" to Cokie, and keep an eye on Beep (who was also looking over Da Dawg's shoulder) at the same time.

It is very inneresting to watch a collie-dawg try to get their eyes to go in two different directions at the same time.

"If I had started training you in the beginning," Maman said, "I would never have let that tea-vat into the house. And I would have kept the coffee table clear so that I could serve tea in an instant, and not followed the American convention of using it as some kind of display table for useless ornaments. A coffee table should have nothing more on it than a pane of clear glass that can be easily wiped up in case of spills. It is a serving piece *only* and not a display piece. If I had started you out that way, you would be trained by now; I have only myself to blame that we don't have proper tea all the time."

"But I have always had these big cups." Protested Dadda.

"And you shouldn't. In Waddington, I didn't have a beaker in the house. Not one. Now I seem to have thousands. The bloody things reporduce on their own in the cupboards. And look at me - I drink coffee - brewed coffee! I never used to do that. If I wanted coffee, I drank instant, like a proper English woman."

And by that time, Cokie-the-Fat-Cat was well into "Recovery", with his head stuck into Dadda's tea-cup - which is big enough to swallow Cokie's whole head. And Missy and I (who were looking overboard from the futon) could hear the lap-lap-lap of his little, pink tongue.

And right about that very same moment, Beep-the-Udder-Cat (who is admittedly slow on the uptake) finally figured out that Cokie was "recovering" Hoomin Food (a subject that always innerested her, even though she rarely joined in), shot past Da Dawg (who was trying his level best to look in two directions at one and the same time - and failing) and bounded to a halt at the bottom of the futon.

Which made Da Dawg turn-and-bolt in the same way for which Border Collies are justly famous the werld over, but since he did it in such a narrow space, he banged his butt into the door between Maman's Study and Dadda's Office, and riccocheted offa the book-case, came careening into the Office and somehow managed to fetch up next to Dadda's tea-cup.

So, of course, Dadda looked down and noticed Cokie with his head in Dadda's tea cup and his little, pink tongue going like mad in Full Recovery Mode.

And Cokie was so absorbed in his Recovery that he did not have his Cute on at all!

And Dadda reached down over the side of the futon and smacked the Cokie-the-Fat-Cat-head with the flat of his hand and said, "Whack-a-mole! Get out of there, cat!"

And Cokie came up spluttering with a whole face full of tea. And he swore at Da Dawg as he went by and took a swipe at Beep and went to sulk unner'neaf of the table in the corner.

But he spent the next hour or so cleaning tea-with-four-tea-spoons-of-sugar off his face while niether Da Dawg or Beep had enny. Which goes to show you...sumfing.

And Maman said to Dadda, "See? That cat has no manners. No etiquette. And that would never have happened if you had trained him right."

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


Posted by Our Warren at 7:53 AM EDT
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Monday, 6 August 2007
George's 8th Strand (2007); Day Number 6
Now Playing: Making Do

It is hard to type with your mouth full - and having two large salads a day is keeping my mouth full! MissyBun's mouth is also full, which as certain advantages for the Beginning Top Bun. Usually, she is Full of Advice that she is very Gen'rus about sharing with me, but lately she has been Full of Salad, instead, which has done a lot toward Keeping the Peace, not to mention Keeping Her Cleaner In The Long Run.

At enny rate, Fings, in Gen'ral would be going Great, except for-the-Fakt that I am not using Maman's 'Puter, but am having to type on a Strange 'Puter, amely Dadda's, onna'count of-the-Fakt that Maman's Ceased-To-Exist right after Phil left the other night.

I refuse to speculate. Uh-huh. No way. Not gonna do it. Nope.

And now Phil says it Needs Parts - a New Video Card, a New Something-Else-Board, and of course, Phil's all-time, favourite passion, RAM. He seems to be of the pursuasion that if Maman has a RAM port, it *must be filled!* and that's that. Sort of like, if you have room for an extra habitat, you have to adopt a bunny to put in it, that's how Phil thinks of empty RAM sockets: they *must* be filled! So he's ordered some RAM for Maman who already has more RAM than most mortals ever use.

But this means that her 'Puter is perched dark and silent on her desk and the only one alive is Dadda's in his office, with his chair in which I Don't Fit

So as soon as Dadda left in-the-car to go to Certified, Maman got busy and dragged her chair outta her office and into Dadda's, and got her fan outta her office and installed it into Dadda's and opened some windows to let in some breezes, and got Fings to where we, Missy, Maman and Me, could get some Useful Work Done, even if we were Making Do With What We Had.

Maman also got herself some coffee and brought some salad for Missy and me.

Fings aren't *too* bad. I mean, we have a futon, even if it smells of Catz because this is where Beep-the-Udder-Cat likes to sleep when there are Sunbeams. However, it's cloudy out today, with a promise of Thunderstorms, so there are no sunbeams for Beep - just us taking up her normal space. And da Dawg is still stuck on the floor, but Maman gave him some Cat Kibble to eat, so he's happy.

It doesn't take much to make a dawg happy.

And Maman has had to rebuild a "Favourites" of alla her and my Newspaper Websites, mostly frum memory, mainly *her* memory, which being pretty old, isn't so good. So we have only read three or four newspapers this morning, instead of the seven or ten we usually read. And the few that we have read, we haven't read too closely.

But what we Have Read, is mostly Bad News, I am sorry to report. And since I don't report Bad News in The Hay Diaries, I'm not about to report any of what we read about so far today.

And my mouth is full, besides. I got Romaine here, and some fresh Dill from Hunny's Our Warren Memorial Rose and Herb Gardin that's right outside of the Bun Room Memorial Stained Glass Window. And I have some Curly Parsly, and a heap of Williamsburg Heritage Peppermint to aid in digestion, and some Baby Organic Carrots and One Grape Tomato from Missy's Expelled Tomato Vine.

You got to admit, that most hoomins do not have Expelled Tomato Vines! But we do, and Dadda figures that it is at least twelve feet long, and all from ONE seed that Missy must have swallowed whole and then expelled into a pootied, that got spread on the Gardin in the Spring. Where it germinated and took root. And Growed. And became a full-grown tomato-plant because Maman and Dadda couldn't believe it was axtchually growing in the Gardin in the First Place!

And now it has blossoms and blooms and chains of little, tiny grape tomatoes on it that are getting ripe, one-atta-time in the hot August sunshine!

So I ate half of the one that I was given and left the rest for Missy, onna'count-of-the-Fakt that I don't really like tomatoes ennyways. As soon as I get to any seeds, I stop eating them and leave them for Missy who inhales the rest of them.

Which is how Dadda is pretty sure that the tomato vine plant in the Gardin was Expelled by MissyBun, as she is the only HouseBunny who eats tomatoes with the seeds included.

So there is Another Case of Making Do: you take what you are given and make Something out of It, Somehow. Other hoomins call this "Recycling" and make a Big Deal out of it, and treat it like it is a New Idea they just had, but every time that you use something in a New Way, Making Do instead of buying something new, you are "Recycling" or whatever they want to call it.

It's like when you take the net bag your onions came in, cut off the metal clip and thread some string through the openings and then put your stockings and delicate stuff inside so you can throw it into your washing machine.

And sometimes people are like, "Ooooo! That's so clever!"

And as Maman says, "No it's not 'Clever'. It's simple logic: Net-plus-Bag-Equals-Netbag, or, expressed mathymatikally," (And she stresses that word for udder hoomins!) "N-plus-B-equals-NB. Okay?" and she rolls her eyes (she says) because she is not an Engineer.

Phil, on-the-udder-paw, who is an Engineer, says you can mend a liddle hole in rubber gloves with the fire on the end of a match and your finger. Make the rubber soft with the heat from the match, and close up the little hole. The glove is fixed for quite awhile.

This isn't rocket science.

Don't buy New, Make Do.

Our Dadda, who is Another Type of Engineer, says that Farmers have the right Ideas: they grow things, like Salad and don't always DriveTheir Cars to the market to Buy Stuff. He says that it takes less effort to Grow Stuff than it takes Energy to Drive the Car, and that we can Learn to Grow Almost Ennywheres. So he is buying Seeds and a Coupla Bags for the Screen Porch.

So while we wait for Maman's 'Puter to be fixed, she isn't going to get a new one. She is going to be using Dadda's. It isn't set up for her, so there won't be Pictures and Graphics and stuff, but there will still be the Words Frum Me, and that's Whut This Blog Is About: Werds Frum Me, George-the-Bun.

And we're Making Do!

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


Posted by Our Warren at 7:43 AM EDT
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Friday, 3 August 2007
George's 8th Strand (2007); Day Number 3
Now Playing: Correction, Kangas, Books and Us...

Yesterday, I posted a link to the Humane Society of the United States from the Philadelphia Daily News and I think they got it wrong, which made me get it wrong. The HSUS main web-page is here.  So that's my CORRECTION. And I'm not afraid to admit it!

And, so far as New Good News goes, I found this article, this morning, in The Telegraph Online. It is about Kangaroos getting moved insted of killed *binky!* This is very Good News! Please click on This to read the story!

Anytime hoomins take the time and trouble to hear the Voice of the Voiceless, I, George, will try to type about it in The Hay Diaries!

Maman has gotten out all of her books frumm when she was a Little Girl for Our Granddaughter, Anya. So we have a whole new shelf of book from Fifty Years ago! Maman's Grandmothers bought many of these books for her, mostly as a way of Improving Her Mind. There are books in French and Spanish, and a whole lot of Books Frum England with huge pictures in soft colours. A lot of these books have pictures of bunnies in them. Yeah!

And some of the books are even older than Maman. These are the books that belonged to her Father, who was Our Bim. These are mostly odd books with names like "The Rimskittle Books" and "Literature for Little Lads" and "Prayers for Children" and "The Brimful Book". One of these books feature baby farm animals wearing ribbons and bows. Then there is one really BIG book called, "A Boy's King Arthur" with heroic pictures of knights and beautiful horses all painted by a guy named Howard Pyle. There is another book called "The Just So Stories" and one called "A Child's Garden of Verses".

And there is a whole set of books with only line drawings by somebun named "A.A. Milne" that are about a plush bear named "Winnie-the-Pooh". The four books are "Winnie-the-Pooh", "The House At Pooh Corner", "Now We Are Six" and a very skinny book in Maman's handwriting called, "Winnie-Ille-Pooh" that's written in some foreign language. She says it was a "project".

Maman says she is going to read alla these books to Anya as soon as she is big enough to sit on Maman's lap and Pay Attention. According to Maman reading to a small hoomin helps to Improve The Mind. Right now, she is getting into Practice by reading to MissyBun and me. This morning, we heard a story about Kanga and Roo from the "Winnie-the-Pooh" book. I'm not exactly sure what we were s'sposed to do with this new information about a Mother kangaroo and her baby, Roo, but we listened (more or less) and so that was pretty much that. 

There are days around here when it's not real plain what's expected of you as a houserabbit. Sometimes *being* is enough and sometimes, there's more to it.

Like when Maman finishes a story, and she says, "The End." and closes the book and looks expectantly at you.

And it's like, Um, well. Uh, okay! The End!

And we all sort of sit together on the futon, looking at each other and waiting.

And then Maman says, "Well! Wasn't that a nice story?"

And MissyBun is like, "Um, yeah. Great."

And I'm like, "Yeah! And so..."

And Missy is like, "I gotta ged down now..." and she kind of balances on the edge of the futon, sort of teetering back and forth on her big back feets, because the futon is sort of high off the floor section while Missy is sort of heavier in the rear-sections than she is in the front.

And so Maman reaches over to help Missy down off the futon and on to the floor.

And Missy says as she gets down and hops off toward the Catz' pootie-box, "Great story. We'll have to do this again sometime. Like not now."

And Maman is like, "Yes. I know. You and George - got places to go..."

And I'm off, whuffling amongst the pillows on the other side of the futon, about as far away from Maman as I can get without being rude, and I say, "People - bunnies - to meet. Stuff to do..."

"Salads to eat." Missy says meaningfully from her place on top of the Catz' litterbox.

And I look up at the plush bunnies Maman has stacked on the back of the futon. She's got a whole 'nuther warren that has no scent seated up there, as well as a whole warren-full of Stone Rabbits That Have No Smell out in the Garden.

"I have never, " I add, "Met a salad I didn't like."

And Maman starts looking thoughtful. She is beginning to get a *Thing* about bringing home inannimate bunnies, and sort of forgetting that while the inannimate bunnies don't eat salad, WE do, and on a Regular Basis...

"I guess I'd better go get your salads." Says Maman, suddenly, pulling herself up off the futon.

And off she goes, Downnastairs, leaving Missy and me for Dadda to carry down.

So, you see, someBunny has got to start supervising her. Before she gets too many of these plush and stone rabbits-without-scents, as she's already done with the books, and starts crowding out the Our Regular Warren, which would be Us...

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


Posted by Our Warren at 10:54 AM EDT
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Thursday, 2 August 2007
George's 8th Strand (2007); Day Number 2
Now Playing: Howa'boudda Bedda Role Model?

So Maman and I were reading the Newspapers this morning and here is some Good News that we found in the Philadelphia Daily News! (It's from Dan Gross' gossip column and you can view the entire column here).

Here is the Good News:

Local actor loves animals
Upper Dublin High graduate
John Tartaglia, who starred in "Avenue Q" on Broadway and formerly did puppeteering for "Sesame Street," has become a spokesman for the Humane Society of the United States' Proud 2 Adopt campaign. The actor now lives in New York. For more on the program, visit humanesociety.org/adopt.

And here, from the online magazine of the Washington Post, Slate.com, comes this inneresting bit of Good News, this time aboudda Professional Baseball Player, Ichiro Suzuki of the Seattle Mariners:

...he divulged that a key advisory role in deciding to remain in Seattle was played by his dog Ikky. "He said, 'Woof, woof, woof,' which meant, 'Stay, stay, stay,' " Suzuki told reporters in Japanese. "Of course, I listened." (Read the whole newsstory.)

So here we have Good News about an actor who starred on Broadway and did puppeteering on television, and a member of a Professional Sports Team who are speaking up for companion animals! What a great change from alla Bad News we keep hearing about famous people like that cruel football player (who shall remain nameless in my blog!) who is under federal indictment.

In my opinion, any guys who listen to their Dawgs or who support pet adoptions are guys I want to be role models for young people!

Just the other day, I was watching the News on Tellyvishion with Maman and I saw one of our Local Earthwatch Weather Team, Dave Warren, get down on the ground to play with a Dawg! Yeah! He was doing a feature called "Backyard Weather" and the Dawg just happened to be there, but, still, getting down onna ground to play with the Dawg was a Good News kind of thing that I am happy to report in The Hay Diaries. You can see Dave on NBC10 in the Philadelphia area and read about him on the station's website.

Of course, there should be more HouseRabbits on NBC10! Yeah!

Maman and Dadda have noticed that there are Grape Tomatoes growing in Hunny's Our Warren Memorial Herb and Rose Gardin.

Dadda went outside last night to rip out all of the weeds that were around them, and to count how many blossoms there were and how many blossoms were turning into tomatoes. Maman went outside with her basket to cut some Williamsburg Heritage Peppermint for Our Salad.

The thing that gets me is that Dadda is very proud of these tomatoes. You'd think that he had sumfing to do with planting them, but he didn't. He only noticed that they were there a couple of weeks ago when he called Maman over and asked her Whut Kind Of Weed Was Growing In The Garden.

Maman said, "Those aren't weeds. Those are tomato plants."

And then she looked at Dadda and said, "So when did you plant those?"

And Dadda looked at her and said, "I thought you did."

And she shook her head, and so they pondered over that for a little while.

And then MissyBun nudged me with her shoulder and said, "Hey. Bemember lastest year whin Maman gabe me dose stoopit widdle maters to eat?"

And I said, "Uh huh."

And Missy went on, "Well, I swallowed summa dose seeds, whole."

And we looked at each other.

And MissyBun looked at me and her eyes got really wide, and then she blinked and said, "Ya fink?" 

And just then, Maman and Dadda came in from the Garden and Dadda was saying to Maman, "So what I think happened was that the seeds must have passed right through Missy, and when we spread the pooties out over the Garden, they germinated and now..."

And Maman laughed and began to sing in her "Barry Manilow" voice, "Looks like to-may-toes!"

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


Posted by Our Warren at 10:18 AM EDT
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Wednesday, 1 August 2007
George's 8th Strand (2007); Day Number 1
Now Playing: Mayor-Onna-Bike? Boris gets my Vote!

I told you that today marks a New Beginning in The Hay Diaries blog! I, George, am now a Grown Up Bunny, with 'Pinions and Observations all my own!

And now I am going to use my space to tell you about alla Good News and stuff that I find inna Newspapers, and alla the other things that I Fink about all day long!

So One of the Things About Which I have Finked, is about this guy named Boris.

Now Boris is Boris Johnson and he wants to be Mayor of London in England, which is where my Dadda used to live (so now you know why I care about *this* subject!). Boris doesn't want to be Lord Mayor - which means he would be like Dick Whittington, and wear a chain around his neck and a funny hat and walk in ceramonial processions, but a Real Mayor, as in a politician who does work and such-like for the people who live in the City.

There has only been a Mayor of London since Tony Blair decided to modernise the place when he built it a Ferris Wheel.

And around about that time, this guy named Ken Livingstone got elected to be Mayor and keeps "getting returned" as my Dadda says, which means that the people of London can't get rid of him.

Enter Boris, whose real name is Alexander, but he likes the name Boris which is his second name. He is an author, politician and all-around 'Tellygint person.

One of the big problems facing London today is that there are too many cars on streets not meant to have cars. Let's face it, most cities were built long before people had cars, and most streets were made for people to walk through and live in, not drive down.

Now too many people have cars that they think are mobile extensions of their personal space and they refuse to share that space with anybun else.

But do you realize that having a car increases your personal space at least six times, and makes it able to move more than sixty times it's normal forward speed?

Just who do you fink you are that you deserve to have six times your normal personal space?

So ennyways, Boris has had an answer for this for a long time - he rides a bicycle! I think this, alone, qualifies him to be the Mayor of London for the following reasons:

  1. It shows he's not too proud to get in there with the normal traffic and fight for his regular space in it.
  2. It shows he's brave enough to go toe-to-toe with a bendy-bus and come out ahead!
  3. It shows he knows how to save money on petrol ("gas" for the 'Murricans).
  4. It shows he's humble enough to splash through the puddles of life with the rest of us.
  5. It shows he's smart onna'count obba Fakt that he isn't paying high prices to park an inannimate object.

So what we got here is a guy who wants to be Mayor, who has been putting his actions into words long before he even signed up to be an elected official! You gotta take a guy like this seriously! But even better, you gotta elect him while you got the chance. Real, honest characters who are 'Tellygint and Innerestin' don't come along everyday!

So you can check out Boris at http://www.boris-johnson.com/!

And another thing that I been finking about are the Floods that are happening in England, that everybun is going around saying are happening onna'count ob "Global Warming".

Well, the last time that the area around the Avon, Severn and Upper Thames flooded this bad was back in 1937, and it was "this bad" as in As Bad As It Is Now.

So whut I want to know is this: did the flooding back in 1937 happen onna'count obba Fakt ob "Global Warming", too, or was that just a result obba "normal" flooding that seems to happen in that area every Hunnert Years or so?

Because I have a feeling that alla this Media 'Tention that is being focused on Global Warming might not have anything to do with Global Warming at all, and if it does, it might just be that some of the Warming of the Globe is part of the natural cycle of the planet. That doesn't mean that Hoomins haven't polluted or otherwise harmed the Earth - they have! But it is a little concieted, to my mind, to assign ALL the Bad Things that are going on to the effects of one puny species.

The Globe may indeed be warming, but it might be doing it without consulting enny of the hoomins currently living on its skin!

This weekend was inneresting here at Our Warren. Maman discovered that we eat a head of Romaine-per-day. Dadda said that this is quite A Lot and that we are going to have to find a way to grow it for ourselves On Peat. Maman said that she has deep Reservations about this.

Dadda said that you can grow most anything On Peat. So Maman asked him if he knew how. He said he knew how In Theory. Maman said she knows how to play the bagpipes "In Theory" but you don't hear her bothering the neighbours by doing it.

Dadda said "It's Not The Same".

And Maman agrees with MissyBun that we probably haven't heard the last of this, but we'd be better off if we had.

-----------------------------------By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 6:57 AM EDT
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Tuesday, 24 July 2007
George's Seventh Strand: Day Number 24
Now Playing: Reportin' Frum My VayKayShun

So here's the deal. You haven't seen me, George, because I, George, have been on Vaykayshun with My Beautiful Bunny-Gurl ob Gen'rous P'porshuns, MissyBun. And everything was going more or less fine until Missy got sick.

She got these *molar spurs* on the back of ONE tooth, and it hurt to chew (because she is a sensitive bunny), but being HouseRabbits, we had No Way of telling anybunny this.

So we played the old "Twenty Questions" Game Show with Maman and Dr Sharin and her associate, Dr David. It was not fun, lemme tell you.

We wound up in the Hospiddle, Missy and me in seperate acommodations but next to each other while we played "Twenty More Questions" about Whut's Wrong With Missy?

And I wanted to shout out, "Hey! Stoopit! It's her teeth!"

But, being a HouseRabbit, I couldn't do that, so we sat there for a couple of days while everyone took blood, ran tests and Maman kept sending Dadda out to buy ever more exotic kinds of salad for us. I ate Missy's share for her since she couldn't chew.

And Missy lost weight and looked distressed.

So I sat there, waving my ears and wondering and all, and telling Missy that they'd figure it out eventually, and lo and behold! Yeah, they finally did. Dr David gave her some drugs, she went to sleep and they looked into the little bunny-mouth and there were the little spurs, right on her last molar.

So Dr David filed them down and sent MissyBun and me home with some meddysin for Missy and Maman had Dadda spend about a lotta munny on more salad.

So now we're getting TWO BIG salads a day insted of one, and of course all the hay we can eat, and I still have a few pellets in the bottom of my pellet crock if I want a snack. And there are carrots, raisins and apples, too, except we're usually too full to eat them. Mr Mouse says all this extra food is great, because his salads have gotten piled higher until there's no way he can finish his evening salad until morning, and Dusty and Foxie are impressed by the quality of the eats around here. Missy seems to be gaining weight and that's good, and now Maman is trying to send Our Lad Phil out into the Gardin to collect more clover and mint for her. She said there is no end to what a guy will do for 'lektronicks. There probably is, but she's pretty sure there isn't.

So anyways, we're still on vacation.

But I'm thinking of becoming a Reporter. You know, like in a newspaper.

Maman and I read the Newspapers together every morning, and I have decided that just like Belinda used to use her Blog to comment on the news, I would use the Blog, The Hay Diaries, to report good news that I find in the places I read.

Like this bit I found in the Philadelphia Inquirer "Sideshow" column today: "A photog for celeb Web site TMZ.com took a few minutes' break from snapping the rich and famous over the weekend to save Paris Hilton's new Yorkie puppy from wandering into the street in front of her Malibu beach house."

Now that's Good News! Papparazzi don't often do good things for anyone. They're usually so obsessed with what they see in their lens that they don't see anything else, and if they do see anything else, they'll let the "something else" happen, even if it's bad, just to get the picture of it. Saving Paris Hilton's dog isn't usually news, whereas Paris Hilton's dog getting hit by a car would be news. But this photographer saved the dog's life, even without getting a picture!

That's the kind of Good News that won't make a big deal in the papers or on E! or Access Hollywood, but it's the kind of news that I think people need to know.

Because every act of kindness could generate another act of kindness.

Good can spread. If we spread it.

Look at Philadelphia this week-end: 36 shootings, 6 deaths and 0 witnesses. What does that tell you? That there are a whole lot of people out there who are letting badness spread around like a disease.

Now I think there are more good people in Philadelphia than there are bad people. And if the good people ever got together, they would just force the bad people to be good or leave. The are just not enough bad people to go around once the good people start to roll!

So let's begin.

I will report Good News searched out from Newspapers Everywhere and report it here in The Hay Diaries. Beginning August First, the First Day of my Eigth Strand. Our Warren's Bim used to say "Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." That probably applies to HouseRabbits, too. So I will begin something good, on my onliest.

Look for it!

-------------------------By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 9:16 AM EDT
Updated: Tuesday, 24 July 2007 9:16 AM EDT
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George's Seventh Strand: Day Number 24
Now Playing: Reportin' Frum My VayKayShun

So here's the deal. You haven't seen me, George, because I, George, have been on Vaykayshun with My Beautiful Bunny-Gurl ob Gen'rous P'porshuns, MissyBun. And everything was going more or less fine until Missy got sick.

She got these *molar spurs* on the back of ONE tooth, and it hurt to chew (because she is a sensitive bunny), but being HouseRabbits, we had No Way of telling anybunny this.

So we played the old "Twenty Questions" Game Show with Maman and Dr Sharin and her associate, Dr David. It was not fun, lemme tell you.

We wound up in the Hospiddle, Missy and me in seperate acommodations but next to each other while we played "Twenty More Questions" about Whut's Wrong With Missy?

And I wanted to shout out, "Hey! Stoopit! It's her teeth!"

But, being a HouseRabbit, I couldn't do that, so we sat there for a couple of days while everyone took blood, ran tests and Maman kept sending Dadda out to buy ever more exotic kinds of salad for us. I ate Missy's share for her since she couldn't chew.

And Missy lost weight and looked distressed.

So I sat there, waving my ears and wondering and all, and telling Missy that they'd figure it out eventually, and lo and behold! Yeah, they finally did. Dr David gave her some drugs, she went to sleep and they looked into the little bunny-mouth and there were the little spurs, right on her last molar.

So Dr David filed them down and sent MissyBun and me home with some meddysin for Missy and Maman had Dadda spend about a lotta munny on more salad.

So now we're getting TWO BIG salads a day insted of one, and of course all the hay we can eat, and I still have a few pellets in the bottom of my pellet crock if I want a snack. And there are carrots, raisins and apples, too, except we're usually too full to eat them. Mr Mouse says all this extra food is great, because his salads have gotten piled higher until there's no way he can finish his evening salad until morning, and Dusty and Foxie are impressed by the quality of the eats around here. Missy seems to be gaining weight and that's good, and now Maman is trying to send Our Lad Phil out into the Gardin to collect more clover and mint for her. She said there is no end to what a guy will do for 'lektronicks. There probably is, but she's pretty sure there isn't.

So anyways, we're still on vacation.

But I'm thinking of becoming a Reporter. You know, like in a newspaper.

Maman and I read the Newspapers together every morning, and I have decided that just like Belinda used to use her Blog to comment on the news, I would use the Blog, The Hay Diaries, to report good news that I find in the places I read.

Like this bit I found in the Philadelphia Inquirer "Sideshow" column today: "A photog for celeb Web site TMZ.com took a few minutes' break from snapping the rich and famous over the weekend to save Paris Hilton's new Yorkie puppy from wandering into the street in front of her Malibu beach house."

Now that's Good News! Papparazzi don't often do good things for anyone. They're usually so obsessed with what they see in their lens that they don't see anything else, and if they do see anything else, they'll let the "something else" happen, even if it's bad, just to get the picture of it. Saving Paris Hilton's dog isn't usually news, whereas Paris Hilton's dog getting hit by a car would be news. But this photographer saved the dog's life, even without getting a picture!

That's the kind of Good News that won't make a big deal in the papers or on E! or Access Hollywood, but it's the kind of news that I think people need to know.

Because every act of kindness could generate another act of kindness.

Good can spread. If we spread it.

Look at Philadelphia this week-end: 36 shootings, 6 deaths and 0 witnesses. What does that tell you? That there are a whole lot of people out there who are letting badness spread around like a disease.

Now I think there are more good people in Philadelphia than there are bad people. And if the good people ever got together, they would just force the bad people to be good or leave. The are just not enough bad people to go around once the good people start to roll!

So let's begin.

I will report Good News searched out from Newspapers Everywhere and report it here in The Hay Diaries. Beginning August First, the First Day of my Eigth Strand. Our Warren's Bim used to say "Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." That probably applies to HouseRabbits, too. So I will begin something good, on my onliest.

Look for it!

-------------------------By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 9:15 AM EDT
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George's Seventh Strand: Day Number 24
Now Playing: Reportin' Frum My VayKayShun

So here's the deal. You haven't seen me, George, because I, George, have been on Vaykayshun with My Beautiful Bunny-Gurl ob Gen'rous P'porshuns, MissyBun. And everything was going more or less fine until Missy got sick.

She got these *molar spurs* on the back of ONE tooth, and it hurt to chew (because she is a sensitive bunny), but being HouseRabbits, we had No Way of telling anybunny this.

So we played the old "Twenty Questions" Game Show with Maman and Dr Sharin and her associate, Dr David. It was not fun, lemme tell you.

We wound up in the Hospiddle, Missy and me in seperate acommodations but next to each other while we played "Twenty More Questions" about Whut's Wrong With Missy?

And I wanted to shout out, "Hey! Stoopit! It's her teeth!"

But, being a HouseRabbit, I couldn't do that, so we sat there for a couple of days while everyone took blood, ran tests and Maman kept sending Dadda out to buy ever more exotic kinds of salad for us. I ate Missy's share for her since she couldn't chew.

And Missy lost weight and looked distressed.

So I sat there, waving my ears and wondering and all, and telling Missy that they'd figure it out eventually, and lo and behold! Yeah, they finally did. Dr David gave her some drugs, she went to sleep and they looked into the little bunny-mouth and there were the little spurs, right on her last molar.

So Dr David filed them down and sent MissyBun and me home with some meddysin for Missy and Maman had Dadda spend about a lotta munny on more salad.

So now we're getting TWO BIG salads a day insted of one, and of course all the hay we can eat, and I still have a few pellets in the bottom of my pellet crock if I want a snack. And there are carrots, raisins and apples, too, except we're usually too full to eat them. Mr Mouse says all this extra food is great, because his salads have gotten piled higher until there's no way he can finish his evening salad until morning, and Dusty and Foxie are impressed by the quality of the eats around here. Missy seems to be gaining weight and that's good, and now Maman is trying to send Our Lad Phil out into the Gardin to collect more clover and mint for her. She said there is no end to what a guy will do for 'lektronicks. There probably is, but she's pretty sure there isn't.

So anyways, we're still on vacation.

But I'm thinking of becoming a Reporter. You know, like in a newspaper.

Maman and I read the Newspapers together every morning, and I have decided that just like Belinda used to use her Blog to comment on the news, I would use the Blog, The Hay Diaries, to report good news that I find in the places I read.

Like this bit I found in the Philadelphia Inquirer "Sideshow" column today: "A photog for celeb Web site TMZ.com took a few minutes' break from snapping the rich and famous over the weekend to save Paris Hilton's new Yorkie puppy from wandering into the street in front of her Malibu beach house."

Now that's Good News! Papparazzi don't often do good things for anyone. They're usually so obsessed with what they see in their lens that they don't see anything else, and if they do see anything else, they'll let the "something else" happen, even if it's bad, just to get the picture of it. Saving Paris Hilton's dog isn't usually news, whereas Paris Hilton's dog getting hit by a car would be news. But this photographer saved the dog's life, even without getting a picture!

That's the kind of Good News that won't make a big deal in the papers or on E! or Access Hollywood, but it's the kind of news that I think people need to know.

Because every act of kindness could generate another act of kindness.

Good can spread. If we spread it.

Look at Philadelphia this week-end: 36 shootings, 6 deaths and 0 witnesses. What does that tell you? That there are a whole lot of people out there who are letting badness spread around like a disease.

Now I think there are more good people in Philadelphia than there are bad people. And if the good people ever got together, they would just force the bad people to be good or leave. The are just not enough bad people to go around once the good people start to roll!

So let's begin.

I will report Good News searched out from Newspapers Everywhere and report it here in The Hay Diaries. Beginning August First, the First Day of my Eigth Strand. Our Warren's Bim used to say "Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." That probably applies to HouseRabbits, too. So I will begin something good, on my onliest.

Look for it!

-------------------------By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 9:13 AM EDT
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Saturday, 14 July 2007
George's Seventh Strand; Day Number 14
Now Playing: The Fing Is...

Fank you, Foxie, for that inner'resting post.

Ebberybunny needs an Opening Act Bunny, and she's a Good One, when you come to fink aboud'it - widdle, cute, energtic and willing to fit in. Which are all Good Qualities to hab!

I'm not saying enny'Fing is wrong heer at Our Warren, but it is.

Hokay, so Maman had Missy and me atta V-E-T's again yestidday onna'count obba Fakt dat it looked a whole lot like I, George, bit MissyBun onna shoulder.

And afta Dr Sharin looked at MissyBun's shoulder, it looked a whole lot *more* like I had bitten her onna shoulder.

Anna Fakt Obba Madder is dat I did bite MissyBun onna Shoulder.

And that's the Fing ob It...

Maman is used to me being "Babby George", cute and snuggly, which I am. And Missy is used to me being Attentive, Grooming George, which I also am.

But this having Dusty around...

And it's not Dusty as Dusty that bothers me. I mean, he's hokay. He's a bunny-in-need and we got whut he needs. Maman got him nootered so he doesn't stink ennymore (which issa very good fing!) and so he isn't so bouncey ennymore and so he isn't allus grabbing alla 'tenshun away frum ebberybunny else alla time (which is 'portant).

Da Fing is...

Maman allus comes innu da Bun Room to get sum milk to put innu her coffee and she allus whispers, "Hello George!"

And I am pleased. I know my name. I hear my name and I wave my ears to show that I am pleased. It is a subtle fing, but it is Our Fing. It makes us bof a widdle happy and because I am happy, I go and give Missy a few liddle licks on top ob her ears. And den Missy is happy and she smiles at Mouse. And Maman goes past Mouse on her way out wiffa milk for her coffee and whispers, "Hello Mouskus!" and he waves his ears and he is happy, too.

And it usta be like Our Liddle Sekret, Maman and me whispering "Hello George!" and me waving my ears; me grooming Missy and her smiling, and then Maman whispering to Mouse and him being happy, too. It does not take much to make us happy, you know?

But Now Maman comes innu da Bun Room to get milk for her coffee and she whispers, "Hello George!" and alla sudden, there's a Dusty-hextplosion frumma habbytat nextest-door, wif Dusty runnning back and forth, and putting up his paws and bouncing offa habbytat walls and yelling,

"Me! Me! Over here! Here I am! Me!"

And our Happy Momint of Liddle Quiet Fings is all gone.

And Maman breaks the rhyme obba Happy Momint and has to step ober to where Dusty is and and talk Out Loud (insted ob whisper) and say, "Hello Dusty to you, too! Maman's pretty boy! Calm down. Have a pet-onna-nose. Calm down, Dusty. Calm down! Yes, we love you, too!"

And then she stops to bend down to where Foxie is and says "Hello little Foxie Gurl! Yes, we love you, too, Liddle Foxie Lady!"

But the "Momint" is broken, don't you see? Our Momint wif Maman is all messed up. It isn't how it allus usta be alla time bifore there wassa Dusty or a Foxie. It is just now being all messed up because now they are here.

And Dr Sharin sed, yestidday, "Well, I could foster Dusty for you." but she didn't seem to hab much hope. She ebben offered to hextchange bunnies wif us!

But Maman sed, "I don't know why George won't get along. He usta get along before when we had Clover and Beebe - but he was introduced to them by Belinda and Hunny. We had Top Buns in those days, but noBun has stepped forward to take over being Top Bun."

And Dadda sed, "There was no need for ennybun to be a Top Bun. They all knew their place from Before."

And I'm finking, "It's not me who is not Getting Along. Da Fing Is issat Dusty is not Getting Along wif us."

And Missy was sitting inna carrier nextest to me looking all puffy and pretty and sad.

And Maman sed, "I can't be habbin' da Warren torn apart wike dis."

And Dr Sharin sed, "I have had this same Fing happin in my Warren, too. My Thumper bit me over a new bunny."

And Maman and Dadda talked aboud'dit alla way home inna car.

Da Fing Is, I tried to tell Maman frumma backseat, is dat I, George, usta be Furst, alla time. But dat was because I wassa "Babby George". Now, though, I am Grown-Up, 'Tellygint George and I know Fings. I bemember How Fings Were and How They Should Be:

"Hello George"

It was justa liddle whisper, but it was my whisper frum Maman and I would wave my ears.

No banging around from nextest door, no hextplosions ob bunny-energy or binkies offa walls. No desperate pleas of "Here! Here! Me! Me!" until she stopped and petted sumbun else.

Just quiet and whisperings like conspirators ob affectshun.

And there especially shouldn't be, as Dusty bounces and races around his habbytat, that Fear you see suddinly spring up behind Maman's eyes, a Fear Frum Long Ago - wif werds: "Shut up! Shut up! Don't wake anyone, don't bring 'them' innuit! Shhhh! Shhhh..." Because there is somefing inside Maman that is still a skert bunny who looks and runs and only comes out later, when it is silent out and nothing moves...

And Dusty wakes that bunny up in her, when it should be left to sleep.

Dat's da Fing.

He shatteres da Quiet Fing dat Our Warren knows that he hasn't Lerned. Belinda knew about the Quiet Fing, and so did Hunny. And if Dusty wuld Only Shut Up, he could lern, too, because I would tell him. Bunnies tell each udder about dere Mawmies and Daddas, about da History and Tradishuns obba Warren, and it is called Da Lore (I have told you dis Bifore).

It's not only hoomins dat figger out their bunnies; their houserabbits figger them out in return. And Each Bunny learns frumma bunnies who are already there.

But Dusty isn't stopping to learn. Foxie is learning, though. She is learning fast and will fit right in. She knows how to be Cute, like me, and how to be Quiet, like Missy, and how to be Feisty, like Mouse. All at dif'frunt times. But Dusty needs to slow down to lern. Rushing to the Frunt might make him noticed, but not inna Good Way.

And dat's da Fing, as it is, so to speak. Da Fing Is, I didn't mean to bite Missy. I didn't mean to be out of sorts. It's not me, not George, but I am not a Babby for ennybun except Maman, and just George only for Missy.

To da Udders, da Fing is, I fink I might hafta become Top Bun.

------------------------ By George  



Posted by Our Warren at 8:10 AM EDT
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Thursday, 12 July 2007
George's Seventh Strand; Day Number 12
Now Playing: Guest Blog...

George ain't heer -------------------->

<------------------- So --------------------- *teehee!* (I am!) ...................... AND SO ...

So... I gotta liddle song I maked up.... I will sing it now... so... (fibe,six,seben,ate)

I, I (who?) Me! Meee! *twirl*

I'm gonna-gonna-gonna

Sing-a-little (very little!) *hop-hop-hop*

Teeny tiny (very smallish!) *ear-twinkle*

BUNNY SONG! *binky-hop*

It's Alla'bouta'bouta alla'bouta *hop-slide*

Very tiny, liddle-bitty-VERY small! *binky*

Bunny-girl-that's just arrived  *twirrrrrl*

HEEEEEEEEEERE! *hop-binky-hop*

And dat's ME! Dat's me! *slide-binky-twirl*

And dat's right! All right? All right! *hop-hop-slide*

Dat's ME! Foxie! *Bunny giggle*

------- Fank you berry much and I'm shure George will be back berry, berry soonest! Wif Luv, frum Me, Foxie! *bunny-kisses are da bestest!*


Posted by Our Warren at 9:55 PM EDT
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Tuesday, 19 June 2007
George's Sixth Strand (2007); Day Number 19
Now Playing: Anudder Spa Day

Well, here we go again! Anudder Spa Day has arrived for Da Dawg and Cokie-da-Fat-Cat.

So dis morning, I was mooching around in Maman's Study wif Missy, and Cokie-da-Fat-Cat was asleep onna Liddle Bafroom Floor. Dis was onna'count obba Fakt datta floor in there hadda Liddle Breeze, and he was sort ob enjoying it by habin' a Liddle Nap.

So I was just *there* around Maman's desk. You know, not doing ennyfing in partikular, just sort ob whiskerin' around unner'neaf ob her desk (which happins to be a table) and not paying much attention to ennyfing becos Cokie was doing his impression obba Ded-Cat and it's hot outside and dere is Nuffin' Going On, more or less, when heer comes Maman and she's gotta tellyphone in her hand, and she's talkin'.

And so I hop up onna foo-ton and MissyBun dashes unner'neaf obba desk. And Cokie goes on sleepin' in his Liddle Breeze onna floor inna Liddle Bafroom dat is just offa Maman's Study.

And Maman's talkin' to Auntie Michelle onna tellyphone.

And alla suddin, Maman hollers, "Oh my goodness! Dere he is! Lemme shut da door, Michelle!"

And Maman pulls uppa corner obba rug wif her foot and shuts da door between her Study anna Landing dat leads to da Liberry and Dadda's Office.

And den Maman just sits down atta desk. And she's wike, "Sorry Michelle, but Cokie's going to the Spa today and shutting the door will keep Brian and me from having to chase him all over the house. You have no idea how many bolt-holes a 40-pound Maine Coon can find in one house!"

And then Maman and Auntie Michelle went on to talk about Auntie Patricia and SA and SpiceyBunny whose phone number they hab Lost.

So Missy pokes her nose out frum unner'neaf obba desk and hollars, "Hey Cat!"

And Cokie, who is inna Liddle Bafroom, lying onna Liddle Square ob floor in dere, enjoying da Liddle Breeze looks ups, and he's, like, "Whut?"

And Missy says, "Guess whut?"

And Cokie says, "Dis bedder be good onna'count obba Fakt I wassa'leep and you waked me up."

And Missy raises up her ears and seys, "Well, you bedda find a place to hide."

And just den, outside obba door, I hear Da Dawg come barrelling Uppystairs. Now he hextpekted da door to Maman's Study to be open, onna'count obba Fakt dat it allus is - but dis time, since Maman shut it, it's closed, and so, ob course, Da Dawg runs innu it, Full Tilt.

There is a *bang* assa Dawg bounces off. 

And frumma Liddle Bafroom comes da Cokie-Cat voice: "Whuttaheck wassat?"

And Missy says, "Dat wassa Dawg slamming innu da door."

And Cokie is wike, "How come he slammed innu da door?"

And MissyBun chuckles, "Onna'count obba Fakt he's Stoopit. Maman shut it."

So Cokie struggles up innu a sitting position (which is preddy hard for him becos he's obba Berry Round Pursasion) and he says, "She did whut?"

"Maman closed da door toda Study." Says Missy, wif a lotta satysfakshun. "Mainly to trap you in here. Tidday is Spa Day!"

And *dat* preddy much got Cokie's full attenshun. So he stands up alla way and comes stumping outta da Liddle Bafroom just as Maman hangs uppa phone wif Auntie Michelle.

At which point, Dadda opins da door, and Maman hollars, "Shut da door! I gotta Cat trapped in here!"

And Dadda pulls da door shut and shouts back, "I know!"

Which shows you how switched on they are. 

So Maman scoops up MissyBun and tosses her up onna Foo-ton wif me.

And Missy snuggles down and says to me, "Watch dis. It's gonna ged good."

So Dadda opins da door again, starts coming in, but Maman is onna udder side and starts pushing it shut, squealing, "He's coming out behind da foo-ton!"

And Dadda sticks his foot through the door, which preddy much stops Cokie on his mission ob oozing outta door via behind-da-footon, but gets Dadda's leg caught inna door. So he yells, "Ouch!" and den, "Damnit!" and Maman lets go obba door-knob.

So Dadda manages to squeeze in, leebing Da Dawg onna udder side obba door...

...Where he starts peeping onna'count obba Fakt dat he's gonna miss ebberyfing.

So ennyways, habbing failed to ooz, Cokie has taken refuge unner'neaf obba foo-ton to weigh his options.

And Dadda goes innu da Liddle Bafroom and geds out Mr Broom.

"Whut's dat for?" axts Maman.

"To get outta cat." says Dadda, pokin' Mr Broom unner'neaf obba foo-ton.

So Dadda's pokin away, but dere is no Cokie-Cat coming out.

So Maman says, "It's not werkin'." (She hassa'hextalent Grasp Obba Obvious, Dadda says.)

So Dadda stops pokin' and starts sweeping wiffa Broom, and suddinly out pops Cokie, paddling at high speeds towards Maman's maple rocking chair inna corner byda bookshelves.

And just as Cokie is about to turn da corner dat would ged him by da Attik Door, Maman falls forwards and grabs him byda shoulders.

And outside da Study Door, Da Dawg is keeping up his Collie Anxiety-Peep.

And Dadda hollars, "Shaddup, Marc!"

Which makes Da Dawg change toda Collie Anxiety-Yip, mainly onna'count obba Fakt he wassa'ware dat dere was gonna be *some* kinda Cat-Herding going on (which he finks is Wunna His Jobs) and he was Being Left Out (unbearable fora Collie!) and Not Gonna Be Part Obba It.

So we gotta Dawg onna Wrong Side Obba Door, doing Da Collie Anxiety-Yip, anna Cokie-Cat onna Right Side Obba Door doing Da Cat Anxiety-Wail onna'count obba Fakt dat Maman had him pinned down onna carpet byda shoulders.

And here comes Dadda wiffa carrier!

"Wait for it." Says MissyBun to me onna foo-ton. "Dis is gonna get gooder."

So Dadda puts da carrier down onna floor and says to Maman, "Do you mind shifting yourself slightly to the left, my darling?"

And he says it dis way onna'count obba Fakt dat becos the way they are squeezed in between da rocking chair anna bookcase, he is addressing her butt.

And Maman, who is getting dizzy, says, "Whut?"

And Dadda says, "You gotta shift ober toda left so I can ged in there."

And he's pushing the carrier forwards, inna gen'ral direkkshun ob Cokie's rear-sekshun, which is sorta poking out between Maman's legs unner'neaf ob her long skirt.

Did I menshun dat dere is not a lotta light back in dat corner where they are?

So ennyways, da Cokie-Cat is going on wif his Anxiety-Wail.

And Dadda is wike, "Dear,"

And Maman, who is pracktikly almost upside down, but still hanging on toda Cat byda shoulders is wike, "Brian, whut are you doing?"

And Dadda is pushing da cat-carrier forwards towards da Cokie-butt.

And Maman is wike, "You can't load him in rear-first!"

And Dadda is wike, "Sure we can. Step toda left-hand down a bit, love."

So Maman moves ober, and Dadda gets a grip onna Cat and starts stuffing him backwards innu da carrier.

And Maman is wike, "You know, we could just pik him up and load him innu da top wike a sak ob potatoes."

And Dadda is wike, "No, dis will werk."

And da whole time, Cokie is wailin', "Nooooooooooooo!" while he's being steadily pulled back innu da carrier against his will.

"He's diggin' in." Maman says. And she leans ober to start piking at his paws wun'atta'time, but as soon as she gets one paw free, da udder paw digs right in.

And Dadda's still pulling Cokie innu da carrier, hand ober hand. And onna udder side obba door, Da Dawg is still Yipping Away and now he's started Scratching atta door.

So Maman yells, "Stop it, Marc!"

And Marc stops Yipping and switches over to outright Barking, just in case no one has heard him previously.

And Missy and I are still up onna Foo-ton, outta da way.

So just den, Dadda reaches ober da carrier, grabs bof ob Cokie's paws. And there's a last, pitiful "NOOooooo!" wail, anna door onna carrier clangs shut.

"We did it." Says Dadda.

So he bends down and piks uppa carrier ("He's too hebby to use da handle." Dadda says. "It'll break right off.") and Maman gets da Door Opin.

And in tumbles Da Dawg, but it's Too Late. Da Herding is Ober. 

So Dadda carries Cokie-Inna-Carrier Downnastairs and Outta Frunt Door.

And Missy and I hear Maman say toda Dawg, "You wanna Go For A Ride Inna Car?"

And ob course Da Dawg is Stoopit, and ob course, he is Oberjoyed to Go For A Ride Inna Car! He ebben goes and gets his own Leash.

You just can't quite put a price on dat kinda Stoopitity.

So now Cokie-da-Fat-Cat and Marc-da-Border-Collie-Dawg are Gone, bof obb'em off toda Spa, and Maman is onna Phone again.

She is saying somefing about "Habbin' Foxie's stitches taken out on Saturday and would there be additional appointments open for Two Well-Bunny Check-ups? Dat would be for Mr Mouse and..."

Oh NO! You goddabe kiddin'me!

"George!"

------------By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 11:25 AM EDT
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Monday, 11 June 2007
George's Sixth Strand (2007); Day Number 11
Now Playing: Dramatis Personae

Maman sed it's geddin' to be wike where you need a Playbill & Program Notes just to find your way around dis place : there is so much Buggering About that it is hard to keep trak ob EbberyBunny. Sus'pecially now that Dusty and Lightning (not her reel Name) hab mooved in.

Part obba Problem issat "Lightning" came wiffa wrong name attached. The Other Part obba Problem was that the People Who Owned Her Bifor Dusty's Mom thought she was a Boy-Bunny and named her "Lightning". Well, ob course, *dat* was all wrong! She spent a lotta time telling them that her name was "Ms Fox", but nobunny would listen to her. Then again, since they just went away and left her at Dusty's Mom's House, they really didn't want to habba Bunny very much inna Furst Place.

And then Dusty's Mom didn't know that "Lightning's" name was really "Ms Fox" either, and she didn't know that Ms Fox was a girl, either. So that was pretty frustrating, too. And then she got heer, where we're sus'posed to know dis kinda Fing, and alla Hoomins were still calling her "Lightning", which wasn't her name.

So that was a Preddy Big Frustration, until Dr Sharin got it all sorted out. But Fox is still rilly upset and mad about da whole Fing and refuses to let Maman take her pikchur. She has bited da camera fingy several times now, so Maman just sorta Gave Up until afta Wednesday when Foxy is going toda V-E-T's in order to be fixed (and she is not broken!).

But ennyway, Maman does habba pikchur ob Dusty, who Phil is callin' "DustMop", "DustBuster", "Da Duster", and such. Dusty doesn't care, just as long as Phil pets him. I have never seed such a bunny for pets! Dusty is wike sum sorta Frantik Furball who is terrified sumbun is gonna ignore him. As if! As soon as sumbunny walks innu da Bun Room, he's Right There, in your face, up close and geddin' per'sonal. Maman sed she finks dis behaviour will stop whin he's had his berries piked. Can't come soon enuf for me!

Next ober is Mr Mouse and he's still Not Talkin' to Maman. He's decided to talk to Dadda, but not to Maman. She still has Cooties for lettin' Dusty and Foxy be heer, and ebbery time she comes innu da Bun Room, Mouse jumps up to give her the RBB. He sat atta udder side obba sofa inna Sitting Room to watch "Law & Order" last nite and gave her the RBB frum there during the commercials.

Then there is MissyBun and me, George. Maman says Missy is like a little old newsbag, because she hasta periscope and stand on tippy-toe ebbery nite to tell Maman Whut's Going On inna Bun Room, just like Belinda Bunny used to. Maman finks dat's onna'count obba Fakt dat Missy finks she's TopBun-in-charge ob ebberybun, but axtchully, it's because Missy wants her Salad Furst and is making shure dat Maman brings it in dis direkshun bifore she goes ennywheres else. Wast nite Missy ebben stole my Parsley Sprigs bifore Maman set my Romaine Cup down inside ob our Habbytat! But it was hokay because Maman went and got me some more, but it was kinda wike Da Nerve, you know?

And then there issa Sus'porting Cast,

 Which wuld be Da Dawg & Cokie-da-Fat-Cat,

 

 

 

 

Beep-da-Udder-Cat,

 

Our Guy Phil,

 

 

 

 

Sistah Beffy & Annastasia

And Maman and Dadda.

And that would be Alla Us Togedder who are libbin' heer at Our Warren!

-----------------------------By George!

 


 

 


 


Posted by Our Warren at 6:17 AM EDT
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Saturday, 2 June 2007
George's Sixth Strand (2007); Day Number 2
Now Playing: Noo Members ob Our Warren! / Who Is Spoilt? (Pt. I)

Furst, Mr Mouse wants to say dat if bunnies could Vote inna coming 'Lekshuns, he would Vote for Fred Thompson for Pressydent onna'count obba Fakt dat his last Job was assa wily Distrikt At'turny on "Law & Order" which is Mr Mouse's favourite TV show. And Mr Mouse would sum day like to make a *guest appaerance* on "Law & Order", assa Companion Rabbit to Jack McCoy!

So ennyways, yestidday, bifore da Big Thunderstorms (Paw-waves to Little Ashy!), sum Friends dropped by. Dere was Mister Walt, Missus Mimi and Sherri. (Dey smelled ob ferrets!) And Sherri bringed her bunnies, Dusty and Lightning in carriers. And inna liddle while, afta sitting out onna Screen Porch wif Mr Mouse, Mister Walt and Dadda bringed in habbytats filled wif pine shabings.

And I'm wike, "Whut?" Because we'd alreddy had our Playtime onna Screen Porch and all I wanted to do was to habba nap, you know?

So da udder hoomins left, and Maman and Dadda let Dusty innu Beebe and Clover's (God Bless them!) old habbytat dat had been sitting out onna Screen Porch. So we, Alla Us Togedder, got to see Dusty, close-up-wike.

And Dusty came tumblin' outta da carrier and was wike, "Oh my paws and whiskers! Where am I? Where's my mawmie?"

And I'm wike, "You're at Our Warren. I'm George. Dis is Missy, and ober dere is Mouse..."

And right away Dusty starts running in circkles. "Where am I? Where am I? Where's mawmie?"

Mouse, who was preddy grumpy ennyways onna'count obba Fakt dat his Playtime had been ober and was in his habbytat, went, "Shaddup! You are at Our Warren and it is time for treats. Hang on and you'll gedda Baby Organic Carrot inna minit."

And Dusty stoped, and periscops and Missy axted Mouse, "Whattaheck?"

And Mouse sed, "Well, looks to me wike a juvenile grey-and-white miniLop wif serious dependancy issues. We talkin' Big Ishoos here."

And Missy went innu loaf-position onna pootie-box wiffa *snort* and sed, "I'm da Top miniLop around heer! And as far as I see, I don't gots no Dependancy Ishoos. I got udder Ishoos, wike 'Where's Da Food?' Ishoos."

And Dusty was running around in circkles again, yellin' "Where am I? Lemme out! Where's mawmie! Pet me! Pet me! Pet me!"

So den Dadda came in and he's got dis udder bunny inna smaller habbytat dat's not like da habbytats dat we hab. And Dadda says to Maman, "Dis will hab to do until we can get one or the other bonded to somebunny else."

And da little, tiny noo bunny inna Temp'rary Habbytat issa rilly teeny, tiny bunny who is marked up just wike a Tiny Edition obba English Spot bunny! 'Cept alla spots anna "butterfly" on his teensy nose are brown!

So he's just sitting there, looking at his noo pootie-pan and noo wadder crock and I call ober da side ob my habbytat, "Hello liddle bunny!"

And he's wike, "Who are you?"

And I'm wike, "I am George ob Our Warren, and dis is my bondmate, MissyBun, my Big, Beautiful Bunny Gurl ob Gen'rus P'porshuns. And accrosst frum you is Mr Mouse.Are you a reskew?" I axted him. "Onna'count obba Fakt dat we are all reskews heer, so don't be ashamed to say it if you are."

And just at dat minit, Dadda came by and Dusty starts running around in circkles, yellin', "Hey! You! Pet me! Pet me! Pet me! Pick me up!" And periscoping for all he's worth.

Anna Little Bunny says, "Dusty's a Seriously Needy Bunny. Our Mawmie picked him up and carried him around alla time. He's nebber been on his own."

And I'm wike, "Whut happined dat you are here?"

Anna Little Bunny sed, "I dunno, extactly. Sumfing to do wif cats, dawgs, ferrets and too menny ob us in one place dat needed reskewing." He looked sad for a minit. "We habba nice Mawmie. She is my Sekond Home and my Furst Reskew." And he sighed. "I guess dis is my Third home?"

"Well, it's preddy much gonna be your Forebber Home." Sed Mouse. "Is your last name 'Fosta' by enny chance? Because ebberybunny I ebber met wiffa last name ob 'Fosta' ends up finding their Forebber Home wif sumbunny who issa member ob dis Fing called 'PetBunny' where hoomins hab 'Sucker Lights' dat go off alla'time. And guess whut? Our Maman issa member ob 'PetBunny'."

And just then, Dadda walked by again, prompting Dusty innu anudder outburst ob "Pick me up! Pick me up! Pet me! Pet me! Hey! You! Look at me! Pet me!" and running around like a nut-bag.

So Little Bunny sed, "I don't habba'nudder name. Just 'Lightning' and I don't believe dat's my Name."

And Mouse sed, "Well, don't werry aboud'did. Just wait until you feel comfortable and den you can tell us your real Name. We know how Important reel Names are to bunnies. Dis issa reel Warren, afta all, but beware - Maman will prob'ly gib you some Stoopit Name inna meantime, wike she gave to George."

Anna little bunny poked up his tiny nose and axted me, "Whut Stoopit Name did she gib to you bifore you told her your reel Name?"

And I sed, "She called me 'George', and it wasn't a Stoopit Name. I wassa Babby Bunny when I arrived, a Bunny-Inna-Box Easter Dump without any Name at all, and I *liked* the feel obba name ob 'George'; it was berry 'me', so I keept it!"

And the Little Bunny sed, "Good choice. I hope she gibs me a Stoopit Name I like, too! Because I wassa Left-Behind-Bunny bifore I was taken in by Mawmie Sherri. The kind ob Bunny-inna-habbytat dat gets left behind whin ebberybunny inna houz mooves away. Luckily Mawmie Sherri wassa kind mawmie and took me in. And now she's found me a Forever Home." The Little Bunny periscoped. "Looks pretty nice here. I smell you gots catz anna dawg."


Posted by Our Warren at 10:43 AM EDT
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George's Sixth Strand (2007); Day Number 2
Now Playing: Noo Members ob Our Warren! / Who Is Spoilt? (Pt. II)
"Yeah." Sed Missy frumma pootie-box. "And if enny obb'em bodder you, lemme know. I know how to handle dem."

"Yeah." Sed Mr Mouse. "Furst you pee on eidder da Dawg or a Cat, whichebber is closer, and den *thump*. When you *thump* da Dawg is trained to go get Dadda. And Dadda will be all grumpy and will start to boil wadder to make a Cuppa'Tea, and while dat is going on, he will putta Dawg outside inna Back Gardin to go On Patrol, no madder iffa Dawg wants to go or not, and he will send any Catz Uppystairs to dere 'Partmint, where they will Sulk. Mebbe I will ged to show you later."

"Wow!" Hextclaimed da Little Not-Lightning Bunny. "You got sum System!"

And right about den, Maman arrived and don't'cha know, Dusty hextploded innu akshun again, yelling "Hey! Wady! Cuddle me! Pet me! Pet me! Pet me!"

And Maman, being Maman, decided we all needed to hab more Purina Bunny Chow. So she gave each ob us sun frumma measuring cup and told Mr Mouse,

"Mouse, frum now on, you are onna diet. You need distilled wadder, fewer calcium loaded greens, and more hay. I am beginning to see some sludge in your urine."

And, well, dat made Mr Mouse more annoyed den he alreddy was wif Dusty's antics. So he went to sit in his corner and gave Maman da RBB.

And Maman opined da Frigerator and axted, "Who wants Salad?" which is Wun ob Her More Stoopit Qwestshuns.

And Missy raised out her ears and was wike, "Whucha'Fink? We all do!"

And Dusty was still bouncing around at high speeds, axtin' for Maman to "Hold me! Pick me up! Pet me! Pet me! Pet me!"

And Maman laffed at him, and sed, "You are a spoilt little miniLop! Just like Hunny! You've wrapped your Mawmie Sherri around your little paw, haven't you?"

And Maman reached innu Dusty's habbytat and was pettin' him! And Dusty was getting hextackly whut he axted for!

And acrosst da way Mr Mouse sed sourly, "It figgers. Dat Bunny-Child has only ebber had good mawmies. Wookit how spoilt! I mean *rilly*!"

And I'm sittin' dere, finkin', and den it dawned on me dat Mr Mouse was preddy spoilt, too. So I'm wike, "Wookit, didn't you start off wiffa good Dadda, too?"

And Mr Mouse was wike, "Yes. A great Dadda. He wuld come home frum werk, and den he and I wuld sit onna sofa, eat cereal and watch 'Law & Order' togedder. Den dat mean wommin he got bonded to made him choose between her and me and LuckieBun. And he didn't want ennybunny habbin' us for snake food or pit-bull practice. So he brought us to Our Warren.Whut obb'it?" 

"Well," I sed, "Wookit Dusty anna Little Not-Lightning Bun dere. Now Little  Not-Lightning Bunny wassa'bandonded, and he got taken in by Dusty's Mawmie Sherri, but wookit Dusty..."

And Missy sed frumma pootie-box, "How can I miss him? He's soaking up alla pets and making our salads late!"

And I'm wike, "Yeah. He's a miniLop, isn't he? And he's grey and white and he looks wike da pikchurs ob Cousin Bailey and Cousin Wally (God bless him!) and they are bof grey-and-white miniLops. And Dusty is eating pellets like dere is no tomorrow. Dat is also a miniLop habit, onna'count obba Fakt dat Auntie Grace and Dadda say miniLops are 'garbage-guts'..."

And Missy glared at me, and was wike, "Waidaminit! I amma miniLop, too! And so is Cousin Sheeba!"

"And bof ob your are or *almost* are Big Beautiful Bunny-Gurls ob Gen'rus P'porshuns." I added, rilly fast (because I might be a lotta kinds ob bunny, but "dumb" isn't wunna dem!). "Dadda and Auntie Grace sed dat miniLops are 'garbage-guts' right afta Murphy ate dat 'Whacky Whipper' and Godiva (Bless him!) ate Auntie Grace's Pink Flip-flop."

"So basically whut you're saying," Sed Mr Mouse frum his corner where he was gibbin' Maman da RBB, "Issat Our Warren is suddenily increased by two because dere wassa 'Sponsible Bunny-Mawmie who loved her bunnies enough to bring dem to Our Warren - Wun nice Dwarf kinda English Spot bunny whose name is Not Lightning, anna stereotypically needy, garbage-gut grey-and-white miniLop named Dusty."

"Yeah, preddy much." I agreed. "No such fing as Strangers, NoBunny OnAlone, just wike Belinda sed."

And we sat around and throught aboud'dis while Maman petted Dusty.

And den MissyBun sat up, put her ears out straight and yelled, "Hey! You! Maman! Stop pettin' dat bunny and ged busy wif dose Salads! I can hear da Standing Clock inna Living Room chiming!"

And Maman stuck her hed up and alla'sudden, rushed off, outta da Bun Room clutching bags frumma 'Frigerator. And preddy soon, we each gotta Romaine Cup wif Curly Parsley, Flat Italian Parlsey, Home-grown Dill Weed, a Peppermint sprig, and two Baby Organic Carrots.

And then some Big Thunderstorms came, so Mr Mouse missed 'Law & Order' and that made him madder than ebber, because Mouse hates enny kind of Change.

Howebber, Wun Change dat Mr Mouse would Like, would be iffa Producers ob "Law & Order" would send him a pikchur ob da character he admires most, Jack McCoy. And if they wuld like Mr Mouse to make a "Guest Appearance" wif Sam Waterston, as Jack McCoy's Companion Rabbit FriendMr Mouse sed he wuld make a good SpokesBun for HouseRabbits.

He's ebben agreed to help Fred Thompson pose for pikchurs to be Pressydent. For now. Mouse sed da WholeFing might ged infekted by "pollyticks" and dere are no tablets to take for dat, wike da Dawg does for reg'lar ticks. 

And dat's preddy much dat, for now, heer at Our Augemented Warren!

----------------------------- By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 10:34 AM EDT
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Saturday, 26 May 2007
George's 5th Strand (2007); Day Number 26
Now Playing: HollyDay Week-End!

Well, it issa Memorial Day HollyDay WeekEnd, and Alla Us Togedder, heer at Our Warren just wanna wish Ebberybunny we know a berry Hoppy and Safe Start toda Summer!

Yeah!

Tiday, Phil-da-Lad, Maman and Dadda are gonna begin setting uppa Screen Porch so we bunnies can hab Our Playtime outside.

The Screen Porch issa Great Place for us to hab Our Playtime, because basikly, it issa whole Room that is Offa Ground by Four Foots, and has no door toda Outside, and is Surrounded by Screens, so there are No Bugs, No Preddytors, and Alla Us Togedder can be outside enjoying breezes anna Wind-Chimes wiffoud habbin' to Werry Aboud EnnyFing.

So we are allus berry hoppy to hab dat room re-opined to us Ebbery Summer!

Yeah!

And dis Memorial Day WeekEnd issa WeekEnd datta ScreenPorch will ged opined!

*Paw-Waves to Lilly and Penny who lib Nextest Door!* (Dey hab their own Screen Porch, too, which is preddy good onna'count ob dem being Dawgs and all, but den, dey habba nice Mawmie, so it kinda figgers, you know?)

So ennyways, Alla Us Togedder are hoping dat alla you will hab Sumfing Good Happin for you onna Memorial Day WeekEnd!

And on Monday, (which issa Real Memorial Day) I hope to tell you aboud'da Memorial Day P-rade where Our Phil is gonna be innit, onna'count obba Fakt dat he issa Navy Veteran. And we also wanna tell aboud Our Auntie Grace, and Unkul Bernie, and Unkul Toby, and Our Bim's Bestest-Friend Dave Sweet (who Flew-Away-and-Nebber-Came-Back) and alla Udder Veterans and hoomins who are Serving Inna Millytary dat we know.

Yeah!

Lotta stuff going on, which is Pretty Good. Maman says we might ebben gedda Flags to hab on our habbytats! Ob course, MissyBun sed we would radder hab summa dat Flat Italian Parsley dat seems to be takin' ober Hunny's Our Warren Memorial Gardin, but she would!

And Maman sed she might tell us suma Da Lore aboud'da Our Bim-inna-Navy inna World War Too, and sum udder parts obba Lore dat she knows.

So all-in-all dere issa Wot To Wook Forwards To.

As Auntie Grace and The Herd in Kin-Tuck-Eee is fond ob sayin' "We March On!"

Yeah!

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


Posted by Our Warren at 12:23 PM EDT
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Friday, 25 May 2007
George's 5th Strand (2007); Day Number 25
Now Playing: Left-Obers

So tiday, I'm sitting here inna Study, doing my Cute and hoping for summa that *rilly* good Flat Italian Parsley that seems to be growing our in Hunny's Our Warren Memorial Rose & Herb Gardin.

So far, in spite ob my best Cute, nuffin has currently arrived.

Howebber, I do not beeleeb in Gibbin' Up. That is for Udder Creechurs who don't Beeleeb in their Cute. I do, which is why I know Maman is going to offer Alla Us Togedder sumfing wike a Treat soonest. Just as soon as she and I get this Blog sorted out, which is Why I'm Keeping Up My Cute - the more Cute, the sooner we go Downnastairs to getta Treates

Unless she runs outta coffee. Then we go Downnastairs a lot sooner. But we also come Back Uppystairs because she has This Fing going aboud'da Dissyplin.

Howebber MissyBun and I each gotta Bite ob Spice Cookie, which is sorta like a Treat, 'cept it's only Wun Bite, which is not Very Much.

Bunnies prefer a Muchness, wike you get wif Salad, or Baby Organic Carrots or Flat Italian Parsley, or ebben Raisins, where you get More Than Wun.

But Maman is habbin' Cookies for Breakfast mainly because she can dip them in her coffee so there are No Crumbs to bung up her 'puter, and because she says she agrees wiffa "Bill Cosby Theory ob Cake" - it has alla required nutritional ellymints innit, wike wheat, cornstarch, sugar, spice, butter - which are Natchurally Eaten by Hoomins for Breakfast, and it tastes Good.

She says she is no fan ob whut she calls da "Twigs and Berries" approach to Nutrition. "Granola" bars don't last around here because mostly, they get fed toda Dawg. He eats ennyfing.

Last Nite, Phil-da-Lad came ober and stayed to hab Hot-dogs for dinner. Dis is his favourite dinner and Maman allus buys these same hot-dog fings called "Hebrew Nashunals". They are not axtchually Dawgs, I shuld point out, but sumfings dat hoomins stick inside ob rolls to eat.

So da Dawg, who issa real dawg named Marc-da-Border-Collie, sat down to wait and see if there wuld be "Left-Obers". Marc is a Big Fan ob Left-Obers, and doesn't ebben hab to hab enny Cute to get them. He just hasta sit there and be whut Dadda calls A Hairy Dust-Bin.

So Marc is sitting inna Dining Room, being A Hairy Dust-Bin, and along comes Cokie-da-Fat-Cat.

Now Cokie doesn't bother with his Cute, eidder, unless certain condishiuns prevail, and Showing Up For Dinner isn't Wun Obba Condishuns. Cokie doesn't beeleeb in Catz Axtin' For Left-Obers. As he sees it, left-obers are a Rite, and in partic'lar, they are His Rite. 

So he comes stumpin' innu da Dining Room, sits down nextest toda Dawg, fixes Dadda wiffa Stare and demands his porshun obba Left-obers.

And Cokie's Porshun preddy much incloods ebberyfing onna table.

So Dadda tells Cokie, "You're outta luck, son."

And Cokie turns around and flips his tail at Dadda (they hab *dat* sortaz relayshunship) and strolls unnerneaf obba Dawg's chin to go stand up on his hind feets to habba look at Phil's plate!

So Phil is, wike, "You want me to play whack-a-mole wif you hed, Cat?"

And Cokie glares at Phil, gets down and starts shamblin' ober to where Maman is sitting. But Maman stops him bifore he ebben gets there by sayin, "Don't ebben, Cokie!"

And by dis time, da Dawg is lying down, so Cokie makes a U-turn, and comes back to lie down, full-stretch across da Dawg's paws and rolls ober on his back, so datta Dawg has No Choice but to be lookin' down across a Broad Hextpanse ob Cat-gut.

Anna Dawg is lookin around helplessly, wike, "Sumbody ged him offa me!"

Anna Upside-down Cokie-Cat starts to Complain Out-loud dat he is not geddin' enny obba Left-obers.

So out inna Bun Room, MissyBun *Thumps* which is her way ob telling da Cokie-Cat to "Shaddup".

Normally Missy's *thumps* are preddy powerful, since she issa Big, Beautiful Bunny-Gurl ob Gen'rus P'roporshuns, but dis time she was sitting inna pootie-pan when she did it, so da nice layer ob Yestreday's Noos litter absorbed some obba shock and muffled da sound a widdle bit - which is why Maman called through frumma Dining Room,

"All right, George, that's enough frum out there!"

And I'm, wike, "Whut?" Because I knew I hadn't done ennyfing.

And den Dadda says, "Dat wasn't George. Too light; it hadda be Mouse."

And Mouse is sitting quietly in his corner and he's, wike, "Whuttaheck?"

So Missy *Thumps* again, just to straighten ebberybunny out.

And ob course while dis is going on, Cokie-da-Fat-Cat is still lying upside-down across da Dawg's paws, complaining dat he's not geddin' left-obers anna Dawg is busy looking Distressed because he's Covered in Cat and can't do ennyfing aboud'dit.

So it's Phil who gives in Furst.Maman says he hassa soft heart. Dadda says he sumtimes hassa soft hed to go wiffit, but dat's anudder story altogedder. So ennyways, Phil leans ober da side ob his chair and says toda Cokie-Cat,

"All right, Fat-Guts. If I gib you a liddle piece ob hot-dog, will you shut da h*ll up?" (I can't type does kinda Navy werds, Maman says.)

And Phil breaks offa widdle bit ob his hot-dog and places it onna floor.

Well, da Cokie-Cat rolls up at oncest, stands on all four feets, and gobbles down the widdle piece ob hot-dog.

Anna Dawg unscrambles his legs and stands up, too. And his face is set inna "Whaaaaaaa!" hextpression.

And Dadda wooks atta Cokie-Cat and says, "Dat didn't ebben touch da sides goin' down."

And Maman, who ob course notices da Dawg in Distress, says to Phil, "Now gib sumfing - not da roll, Stoopit! - toda Dawg so he won't feel left out."

And Phil is wike, "I would wike to hab sum ob my food left for me to eat! I'm a growing boy!"

So Maman glares at him and calls da Dawg ober to her. And da Dawg goes ober to her, only to find datta Cokie-Cat has taken a short-cut unnerneaf obba table and  beaten him toda side ob her chair!

Now da Dawg is Not Allowed to show enny Aggression toward enny Catz or Bunnies, eidder, for dat matter. No matter Whut We Do, he hasta show Obedience and Restraint. Dat's part ob his Job, and Jobs are sacred amongst Border-Collies (ob which he is wun).

So here issa Fat-Cat, cuttin' Furst In Line for left-obers ahead ob him, and he can't do a Fing abouddit.

But since he is taller, Maman gibs da Dawg sum hot-dog. And she leans ober her chair, and dere issa Cokie-Cat, glaring up at her and purring wike a motor-boat.

And Maman says, "These guys have bad attitudes, getting fed frumma table like dis." Den she looks up and acrosst da table at Dadda and adds, "Brian, dis is your fault."

And she puts downna'nudder widdle piece ob hot-dog onna floor forda Fat-Cat and gibs da Dawg anudder chunk ob hot-dog.

And Phil says, "Yeah, Brian. They didn't beg wike dis bifore you came. It's your fault."

And Phil breaks offa'nudder widdle bit ob hot-dog datta Fat-Cat sees and inhales rite away. And den he gibs anudder, bigger piece toda Dawg.

And Dadda is sittin' dere, wike, wif his hed on one side, and he says, "Hextcuse me? Who is feeding dem frumma table?"

And just den, da Cokie-Cat pops up frum unnerneaf obba table, almost in Dadda's face, and he's got his paws out, hanging on across Dadda's arm, wif claws (which he is not sus'posed to do).

And Dadda's wike, "Owwwww! You (Anglo-Saxon werds dat Maman says I am not allowed to type go here)!" and he shakes da Cokie-Cat offa his arm.

Well, da Cat goes flying, and rite aboud den, da Dawg's training preddy much snaps, and dere issa brief run-around around da Dining Room, and a whole lotta shouting wif Navy werds and Anglo-Saxon werds dat Maman says Small White Bunnies shuld not type in their Blogs. And den da Cat bolts for Uppystairs wif da Dawg hot on his tail afta him.

And den dere is preddy much quiet inna Dining Room. 'Cept for Dadda sitting back down in his chair. And Phil chucklin'. And Maman snortin', "Good grief!"

So just to sort ob putta "Last Werd" in (because dat's whut she's wike), MissyBun *Thumps* again frum where she's ockypying da High Ground inna pooty-box. And da nice, new litter preddy much absorbs da weight obba sound again.

And Dadda calls in frumma Dining Room, "Shaddup, George!"

And I'm, wike, "Whut?"

And Missy wooks acrosst da habbytat to me and says, "You herd Dadda. Shaddup."

------------------------ By George! 


Posted by Our Warren at 11:29 AM EDT
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Thursday, 24 May 2007
George's 5th Strand (2007); Day Number 24
Now Playing: You Nebber Know...

Well, you nebber know, do you? You just nebber, ebber know.

So here am I, George, sitting on Maman's lap, learning to Read By Noospaper, and there is MissyBun, wandering around onna carpet inna Study, leebing pooties inna Catz 'Lektrick Pootie Box.

She says she hasta leeb at least Wun Bunny Pootie inna 'Lektrick Pootie Box to proove toda Catz dat Bunnies hab been inna Study, and that da Study is Bunny Terrytorry. And Terrytorry issa Very Important Ishuoo wif Bunnies. It's Our's, and therefore it is Important that nobunny makes enny kind of Mistake aboud'da Ownership, so we tend to leave pooties in Strateegik Places, or else mark da Boundaries ob Our Areas wif Scents ob Us.

It's a Bunny Fing.

So Missy leaves at least Wun Pootie inna Catz' 'Lektrick Pootie Box so dat they will know that Maman's Study is also Bunny Terrytorry.

The Trubble comes in dat MissyBun, being a Beautiful Bunny-Gurl ob Gen'rus P'porshuns is heavy enuf to set off the 'Lektrick Pootie Box's Automatik Self-Cleaning Patrol, and her pootie can get accidentally scraped up and dumped innu da Con-veen-ient E-Zee-Cleen Containment Unit dat Maman just throws away innu da garbage when she cleans da Catz' pootie-boxes out.

Which is Distressin' to Missy onna'count obba Fakt dat she hasta keep puttin' bunny pooties innu da Catz 'Lektrick Pootie Box time-afta-time, because sumtimes, when Missy goes back to see that she has left a proper *Calling Card* forda Catz... Well... it's already Gone!

So dere is Consternation.

So ennyways, last nite, while Mr Mouse was out wif Maman habbin' a look at sum tellyvishion show called "CSI: Noo Yawk" because there was sum chick-lite innerview on where there *shuld* hab been Mouse's favourite telyvision show, "Law & Order", Mouse sed Dadda came Downnastairs innu da Sitting Room and axt Maman "Whut aboud'da two noo bunnies?"

And Mouse was, wike, "Whut 'noo bunnies'?" because dis wassa furst time he'd heard ennyfing aboud'da bunnies udder den da Three Ob Us who lib in Our Warren now dat Beebe-Bunny!! has gone on toda Rainbow Bridge to be wif Ms CloverBun anna udder bunnies.

So since he has no par'tick'ly fondness for "CSI: Noo Yawk", Mr Mouse listened rilly closely to Maman and Dadda.

And it seems dat dere are Two Bunnies who can't stay inna houz where they were Rescued, but who might need to come heer to Our Warren. Frum Whut Mouse Heard, they are Two Boyz, and they are not bonded. Wun issa loppy-eared guy anna udder might look a lot like Beebe, and Bof ob Dem are YoungBuns.

So Mouse is, wike, "Dis is Our Bun Room, and we will hab to make dem aware ob dat."

And Missy is, wike, "And I am da only Gurl heer, so dey hab to listen to me aboud'da 'Roolz ob Domestik Libbin'. Gurls Rool da Houz and dat's all dere is toit."

And Mr Mouse added, "And you know whut else I heard?"

And I'm, wike, "Whut?"

"Maman wishes dat dey were a bonded pair ob Inkwish Spot Bunnies!" And Mouse's eyes got rilly big as he added, "And so does Dadda!"

And Missy is wike, "You godda be kiddin' me. Dat wuld be wike habbin' a pair ob Belinda Bunnies!"

"Yeah." Said Mouse. "And Maman was telling Dadda aboud Ms Suzy's Harold who issa Boy-Inkwish Spot Bunny who hid in her car when she adopted Mr Brown, and rode alla way home wif her bifore she notised him, and den she hadda call uppa Rescue where she adopted Mr Brown frum and tell dem dat she hadn't stolen Harold, dat he had hijacked a ride wif her! And do you know whut Dadda said?"

And I was, wike, "Whut?"

And Mr Mouse continued, "Dadda sed dat Harold 'displayed typical Inkwish Spot behviour'! Dat when he saw dat Brown was being taken away by a strange lady, he said to himself, 'Oh no, dat's not on!' and snuck innu her car so dat he could go wif his friend, who only had wun eye, and continue to take care ob him. And Dadda sed Harold was 'Wun brave Inkwish Spot, typikle ob dat kinda bunny.'" And den Maman telled Dadda 'bout Ms Nikita Bun and Auntie Tina."

And MissyBun sed, "Oh, I alreddy know aboud'dat! Ms Nikita issa'nudder famous Inkwish Spot Bunny, like Belinda, and ebberybunny knows aboud'er Famous Igloo Story!"

And Mouse sed, "Well, I don't."

And Missy sed, "Den shaddup and listen, cos I know dis Part Obba Lore. Auntie Tina was cryin' because she was 'fraid dat her weddin' wasn't going to turn out to be just as she wanted - Maman says dat brides often cry ober stuff wike dat - and Ms Nikita was sittin' wif her whin it got to be along'round Bedtime, and Auntie Tina was still cryin'. So Ms Nikita, knowing dat it isn't safe to sleep out inna opin, wike inna middle obba room, and also knowing dat you don't leeb your Mawmie In Distress, wint downna Hallway, and got her Purple Igloo, and pushed it wif her nose allaway uppa Hallway, and innu da room where Auntie Tina was crying, until she got dat Igloo right upp'gainst Auntie Tina's foot. And den Ms Nikita Bun got innu da Purple Igloo and turned around sodat her hed was restin' on her Mawmie's foot, and went to sleep! And dat shows Troo Inkwish Spot Ingenuity and Deddykayshun!"

"And Maman and Dadda want to habba bonded pair ob'em?" I axt.

"Yeah." Sed Mr Mouse. "And dey know sumbun who hassa Sank-tuary wif lotsa homeless bunnies."

"And we gotta empty, smell-less habbytat." Added MissBun, wooking at me. "And it is big, just wike Our Habbbytat."

So I went ober to my Finking Spot and loafed up, and hadda small-white-bunny fink onna subject.

And dis is Whut I Thought:

Maman allus says dat whin God closes a door, He opins a Winder; Our Job is to find dat Winder and squeeze through. She also sed dat crossing ober da Rainbow Bridge is wike going through a Doorway.

So Beebe closed a door when he crossed da Rainbow Bridge, which opined up the Big Habbytat dat he shared wif CloverBun like a winder. And now here are dese Two homeless Boy Bunnies, trying to squeeze through dis winder, innu Our Warren, where it is Safe.

Only, most boy bunnies don't bond or even ged along wif each udder. Now ob course, we're not shure if these Two Boyz are rilly bof boyz - hoomins often make mistake on Dis Subjekt, so dat dey fink dey hab Two Boyz whin they can habba Boy anna Gurl or whutebber. Da Fing happinin' here issat dere are Two Bunnies in need. If dey can be bonded, dey can share da Big Habbytat and dat will be hokay, if Mr Mouse and MissyBun can 'stablish Who Owns Whut. And all.

So we will hab to see.

Because around here, You Just Nebber Know...

--------------------------- By George!


Posted by Our Warren at 10:45 AM EDT
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Wednesday, 23 May 2007
George's 5th Strand (2007); Day Number 23
Now Playing: Nothing is Simple...

So last nite, Maman and Mr Mouse watched da "Season Finale" ob da tellyvision show "Law & Order, SVU".

At the very End, Maman picked Mr Mouse up and complained, "How much trubble can wun station-load ob detectibs ged demselves innu atta same time?"

And Mr Mouse, whose Favourite Character appears on the Original "Law & Order" and is named "Executive ADA Jack McCoy" sed, "Beats me, but I'd fire alla dem onna spot and put dem all back as reg'lar detectibs on 'Law & Order' until dey lerned how to stay outta Trubble."

And den Maman and Dadda came out innu the Bun Room and we all had Salad Time.

And I figgered out dat I am the only member ob Our Warren who can read!

Yeah! 'Cept it all didn't go as smoothly as that. I mean, as usualy, there is a Whole Lot More To Fings than appears in two simple sentences - which is normal for Our Warren.

In udder werds, Nothing Is Simple.

I was sitting up here wif Maman atta 'puter and we were habbin' our morning look atta Noospapers togedder.

Now I hab to hextplain dat Maman issa Noos Junkie. She is Addicted to Noos da way udder people are addicted to drugs or sumfing. Maman hasta wake up inna morning to read Noospapers frumma'round da Werld onna WerldWideWeb.

Udderwise, she is grumpy.

Dadda says dat udder people hab to drink alcohol, or take pills, or else look out their windows to mind udder peoples' biznez for dem, or know alla gossip inna village, but dat Maman operates onna Global Scale by insisting on reading Da Daily Tellygraph, Da Guardian, Da Observer, Da Phillydelphia Inquirer, Da Times ob Trenton anna Noo Yawk Times, along wif Da Noo Yawk Daily Noos, anna Philadelphia Daily Noos anna Trentonian, wif glances atta Mirror anna Sun when the occasion demands. And her computer homepage is Google Noos!

So it's not wike ennybunny is going around here, unaware ob Current Events.

And she does alla dis reading while she is drinking her morning coffee, too, and while habbin me, George BunnyRabbit, on her lap while MissyBun wanders around inna Study, looking at Fings.

So this is how I learned that I can read - I can recognise werds onna 'puter screen and know Whut They Mean. This is called "reading" and it can't be done in Lagomorphin..

Now I mentioned Yestidday that Bunnies speak Lagomorphin. This is not a written language due to the Fakt that bunnies do not hab Opposable Thumbs in which to hold pens or pencils, and, until the invention obba keyboard, we had no use for writing ennyways. We live in Warrens and communykate through Lagomorphin, which contains a great deal ob body language and whut is called inflected speech that cannot be duplicated through written means.

So...

When Bunnies became HouzBunnies, we discovered that we could use 'puters to effectively communykate withe each other over long distances by the use ob E-Lists, like Pet-Bunny and e-mail, but we hadda learn to type, using the keyboard, which was geared mainly for Hoomin-speak, primarily inna Inkwish Language.

So we did Whut Bunnies Do, which is Adapt.

We learned to type, using da keyboard and translated our throughts frum Lagomorphin innu a variety ob Inkwish dat we heard alla'round us. Belinda Bunny got inner'rested in dis Noo Form ob Communykayshun, and developed da Furst Web-site By Bunnies, For Bunnies, the RIFRAF Noos Site. Then she began This Blog, so that she could type her own 'Pinions and Thoughts. And she was the Furst Bunny to do this.

Then she went toda Rainbow Bridge and now I, George, am typing The Hay Diaries Bunny Blog.

So it was Yestidday that I discovered that I could read in actual Inkwish!

Dadda was inna Kitchin, boiling water to make a cuppa, and he came innu da Bun Room and opened the 'Frigerator. So MissyBun goes over toda side obba habbytat, raises up her ears and starts doing her Cute.

And Dadda says, "Give it up, Bug-a-Lugs, you're too early."

And he pulls somefing outta the 'Frigerator and there in big letters in typed on it, "M-I-L-K".

And MissyBun calls out to Dadda, "Hey! You! Whutaboudda Bunnies! Gimmie!"

And I sed to Missy, "You don't want dat."

And she says, "You wanna bet on dat? It's coming outta da 'Frigerator, so it's gotta be Baby Organic Carrots. Maman allus gives us Baby Organic Carrots when's she's got her hed stuck in dere. It's only when she's inna Udder Side, inna Freezer, dat we don't ged ennyfing."

And I sed, "It says onna side ob dat fing dat it's got milk in, and we don't want enny ob that stuff."

And Missy's, wike, "How do you know?"

"Onna'count obba Fakt dat it hassa sign onnit that says 'MILK' - m-i-l-k - right onna side obbit." I sed.

And MissyBun gasped and hextclaimed, "Hey! Waidaminit! You can read!"

And I thought for a momint (as I do) and den sed, "Mebbe. I dunno. We'll have to test it out. Let's see whut happins nextest."

So then, Dadda was back, poking his hed innu da 'Frigerator and he came out wiffa bag, and MissyBun sidled up to me wif her ears up and axts, "Whut's dat? Wooks wike Salad."

And I peered atta Werds onna bag and I culd make outta letters and they spelled outta werds, "Ice-berg" and I sed to MissyBun, "Well, It is sorta Salad, but we don't want enny."

And her ears went straight out frum her hed and she goes, "How can you say dat, George BunnyRabbit? If it's Salad, OB COURSE WE WANT IT!"

And off she goes, skurrying around da habbytat, periscoping and all, trying to get Dadda's 'Tension.

And Dadda looks at her and says, "You're outta luck, MissyBun. Your Mum says this stuff is no good for you."

And Missy is, wike, "WhhhhaaaAAAAAAAAA! Whuddayamean 'no good for me'? It's SALAD! It's GOOD for me!"

And Dadda put da bag away inna 'Frigerator and shut da door.

"You'll just have to wait for your Mum to give you your Romaine Plate." he sed and left da Bun Room. "It won't be long."

And Missy picked up her red-and-yellow toss-toy and heaved it my head.

"Whut is going on heer!" She demanded, assa toy bounced offa side obba habbytat and rolled back towards her. "Whut are you doing, George? Whut's dis 'READING' fing you gots goin' on?"

Anna toss-toy bumped her inna paw, so she piked it up again in her teefs and bounced it offa side obba habbytat. Dis time, it ended up inna Wadder Crock, and sprayed wadder all down da frunt ob me.

So I hadda sit down and groom, onna'count obba Fakt dat I was cubbered in wadder. And Missy was 'nnoyed enough dat she was finding strands of hay to pik up and toss up inna air.

And I'm, wike, "Lookit, 'reading' is seeing werds in Inkwish and knowing whut they mean. Like whut it sed on dat bag. It sed 'Ice-berg Class-Ic Salad' which means that it is Iceberg Lettuce which is No Good for bunnies onna'count obba Fakt that it has NO nutrients or whutebber innit. Maman told us aboudd'it. It's all 'empty' she sed, which is why she won't gib it to us in our salads. It's why we get Romaine and Red, Bib and Green Leaf Lettuce instead"

(And I'm telling her this between licks, cleaning up my fur!)

But this hetxplaination isn't good enuf for MissyBun.

"And you're tellin' me you 'read' alla 'dat' onna bag ob Salad? Dat sumhow dat bag ob Salad was 'no good' when I culd smell dat it was Salad, which is by deffynishun, 'Good-for-bunnies'! Whutdaheck issa matter wif you? We could hab had TWO Salads t'night, hextcept you messed it up by 'reading'!"

And I'm, wike, "Two Salads? How do you werk dat wun out?"

And Missy is, wike, "Dat wun frum Dadda anna reg'lar wun frum Maman ekwells TWO SALADS, George BunnyRabbit! Can't you count? I almost had Dadda convinced wif my Cute to gib us sum ob Whut He Had! Dat is, until you went and 'read' whut was onna bag!"

And I'm sitting dere, grooming my paw, and telling her it's not *my* fault whut it said onna stoopit bag, and here comes Maman, followed by da Dawg and Dadda, carrying Mr Mouse, all traipsing out innu da Bun Room. And Maman opins da Door Toda Back Gardin and tells da Dawg to go Out On Patrol. Den she opins uppa habbytat and starts to pet MissyBun.

And Missy sort ob flops down, all grouchy and Maman (who is clueless) goes, "There's my sweetie-bunny!"

And Missy is, wike, "Gimmie my salad."

And Maman is, wike, "Wookit da widgie-cheeks onna Sweetie-bunny-gurl!"

And Missy is, wike, "Gimmie my salad!"

And Maman is, wike, "Woogie-woogie-woogie cheeky bunny-gurl!"

Amd Missy is just lying there wif her ears down and her nose going up-and-down, up-and-down, up-and-down and her eyes are half-closed - however I can see she's glaring - and as soon as Maman pulls her hand out, MissyBun bounces up inna-air, puts her paws onna top obba habbytat door, sticks her hed out,  and demands,

"Gimmie my salad, wommin!"

And Mr Mouse, who had just gone back inside ob his habbytat frum watching "Law & Order" inna Sitting Room, pokes his nose up and axts, "Whut's up wif you, Missy?"

And MissyBun shouts, "It's George! He can read! And he messed up our chances ob gettin' TWO Salads! TWO! Can you beeleeb it? And all because George can read!"

So, you know whut? The nextest time I learn to do sumfing, I fink I'm going to keep it to myself...

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



Posted by Our Warren at 11:00 AM EDT
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Tuesday, 22 May 2007
George's 5th Strand (2007); Day Number 22
Now Playing: Da Hextploitashun ob Catz and Free Speech!

Well, if this doesn't just beat all.

Yeah!

Just habba look. Open uppa'nudder browser window and go to www.Slate.com (a new magazine from da Washington Post Noospaper) and rite dere onna banner you will see a pikchur obba cat! Anna werds, "Kitty Power"!

Den follow da link to dis page, http://www.slate.com/id/2166338/nav/tap1/  and view da slide show.

It is disgustin', lemme tell you!

I mean, I am all for ebbery species habbin' a voice ob it's own onna WerldWideWeb, and for ebbery species habbin' a Right to voice dere own 'pinions and hold dere own Beliefs - BUT...

Dis shure wooks wike Hextploitashun to me - dis time, involving Catz!

Now ebberybunny knows dat Our Warren is infected wif Catz. In fakt, we hab Two - Cokie-da-Fat-Maine-Coon-Cat and Beep-da-Udder-Cat. Mostly, dey just torment da Dawg and fink dey own da place. Occasionally, MissyBun pulls out summa dere fur to lett'em know Who Is Rilly Boss, but aside frum dat, dey do berry liddle aside frum haunt various sunbeams. Dey seem to hab a single brain-cell dat dey cycle amongst each udder and sumtimes rent out toda Dawg.

Dadda refers to Cokie assa "Furry Speed-bump" and "Two Furry Slippers anna Tennis Racket" when he is not calling him Names Not Fit For Publication, and he calls Beep, "Madame". Bof ob da Catz are 'Dopted, just wike ebberybunny else in Our Warren. Maman swears dat she is 'Lergic to Catz because petting dem makes her hands itch, but it doesn't matter because she werries 'bout dem just wike she werries 'bout ebberybunny else (Werrying is Whut Maman Does, and she says she is Berry Good Atit, having done it for Most ob Her Life.).

But back to dis Artykul in Slate...

It is hextploitive because it is not By Catz, About Catz, For Catz - it is By Hoomins, Featchuring Pikchurs ob Catz forda Amusemint ob Udder Hoomins!

In udder werd, dis is Kitty-porn. 

Yeah!

Da hoomins who created da web-pages menshuned inna Artykul by Slate seem to find it funny to post Un-Diggyfied pikchurs ob Catz and den gib does pikchurs Humerous Captions, and post dem onna Innernet for ebberybunny to laff at.

Now ebberybunny knows dat laffin' at sumbunny is Not Nice. It is mean! Laffin' wif sumbunny is hokay, but not laffin' att'em. Laffin' att'em only makes da wuns bein' laffed at feel badly. And dat is Not Rite.

And dere are hoomins who ebben pretend to hab created a language for des poor kitties, as though the kitties demselves hab created it inna immytation ob hoomin-speak! As if kitties do not habba language ob dere own!

Now I realise dat dere are sum hoomins who fink dat bunnies type as we do because we are immytating hoomin-speak.

Dis is NOT TROO.

We bunnies speak in Lagomorphin, and when we type, we are typin' in translation - translating our thoughts frum Lagomorphin innu Inkwish and den typin' dat Inkwish as we hear it. It's not wike we hab receibed enny formal training inna spelling obba Inkwish Language - we habbin't. We are typin' Whut We Hear, da way dat It Sounds To Us, and How We Would Say It if we would speak Inkwish ourselves - but we don't speak Inkwish or habba need to speak Inkwish, because we hab our own language that is called Lagomorphin.  

Got dat? Good. 

Belinda Bunny ob Our Warren was wunna Da Furst Bunny to ebber ebben Try to communykate wif hoomins in dere own Language - which was why she 'stablished dis blog back in 2004. She was amongst da Furst Bunnies to try to gib a Voice To Da Voiceless, by bringing written language to bunnies, and bridging da communykashuns gap between wun species anna'nudder.

But whut Slate.com hextposes in dere Artykul is no less den da Hextploitashun ob Cat-Cute By Hoomins!

If des websites dat are hetposed by Slate were By Catz, For Catz, den dey wuld be hokay, but as dey are, dey hextist as liddle more den kitty-porn - da gratuiteous viewing ob Cat-Cute for da Gratifykayshun ob Hoomins.

And it shuld be stopped.

Dere are menny species inna werld. Menny ob dem are Cute. But alla species exist for demselves, as sep'rate and splendid Creations byda Architect obba Universe, not created forda hextclusive benefit obba egocentric hoominkind!

  • Hoomins do NOT okkypye da top of enny kinda intellectual or moral food chain merely because they hab lerned to create ever bigger and better tools to manipulate and coerce their environment.
  • Menny udder species hab lerned How Not to manipulate and coerce their environment, but to successfully inhabit and co-exist with their environment, adapting in unique ways to compliment and preserve their environment.
You see Whut I Mean? Hoomins are just not alla dat anna bag ob chips.

Dis takin' away da diggity ob Catz forda Amusemint ob Hoomins is only a foreshadowing ob Fings To Come, I fink. It was good ob Slate to point dis out, sodat ebberybunny can see it.

Now if Catz want to opin dere own web-site and post dere Own Thoughts, dat's fine. Ebbery species shuld hab a Voice ob It's Own.

Wunce dere were sum Very Brave Hoomins who wrote dat Ebberybun was created Equal, and dat ebberybun was entitled to habba Voice ob Dere Own. Dees hoomins, like Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, Rudyard Kipling, anna Marquis de LaFayette, were all Right - Free Speech issa Valuable Fing dat must be protected in order to survive.

And sumbunny must allus be reddy to speak up for:

  • Freedom ob Speech and 
  • Freedom frum Gross Indiggities by Hoomins-Who-Would-Be-Kings
  • And Against Those Who Wrongly Use Their Powers to censor others for Speaking Their Minds
Ebben Small White Bunnies who lib in comfortyable habbytats in Our Warren!

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


Posted by Our Warren at 11:47 AM EDT
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