Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Year of the Rabbit

The Chinese are my sort of people.They dedicate every year to an animal and 2011 is the year of the rabbit. Not that every other year is not dedicated to me. The downside of this seems to be an increase in recipes of you-know-what pie, or so my lot tells me. Some people seem to think it's funny to suggest putting me in a pot. You would not believe the number of times I've overheard that comment from my den under the table. Not only do they think it's funny but they think they are the first one to say it.
I suppose I repeat myself too but that's because I have trained everybody to react to certain instructions and these have to be the same every time otherwise they might not get the message.Sitting on the edge of the kitchen rug means I want a bit of carrot or banana. I do it every morning. Nudging feet under the table means I want a bit of what you're eating please or, stop using the computer because I need a cuddle now. You all know about staring at a door until somebody opens it and growling when I don't want to be picked up and stamping my foot when I enter a room in case they don't spot me on stage.
Maybe this will be the year when everybody in the world will at last understand that we rabbits are intelligent, loving, helpful, companiable animals who must not be imprisoned in a hutch for life. It won't happen of course because the human race is a destroyer of everything good and noble. It can't even make sure rabbits have a hutch at least six feet by two feet by two feet and then a good sized run to play in. Is that so difficult to understand?
A HUTCH IS NOT ENOUGH.
I might write to that lady in a red coat and ask her to hit people with her handbag if they keep rabbits in small hutches.
I'm in a spot of bother I did my Geronimo jump off the sofa and my lump came up again. It doesn't bother me though. It will go down soon.