My Christmas box

All the packages, paper and lights around the place are for something called Christmas. A friend brought a cardboard box with a big label that said Harvey's Christmas box. It was full of carrots and beetroot from his allotment. The smell was like a deep soily burrow, a grassy field and a vegetable patch all rolled into one. I sat in it surrounded by carrots, my dream had come true. I dived headfirst for the biggest carrot. Mmm. Bliss. I like this Christmas happening.

My family told me a story to explain things, all about a rabbit family living together long ago in a stable full of hay. One night in the coldest part of the winter some travellers came to share the warm shelter and while they were there a human kitten was born. All the rabbits snuggled up to the baby to keep it warm with their soft fur and when the baby put its hand out to grab one of them that bunny's fur turned white. He became the Great White Rabbit who waits for us all on Rainbow Bridge.

A Very Merry Christmas

A handsome chap

I'd done everything by 8 o'clock this morning. Punched the end flap down in my cardboard tunnel, eaten my bit of carrot, shot upstairs to check on M, completed two speed circuits through dining room, kitchen and hall, cleaned J's soapy hand and tried to pull her bedsocks off with my teeth. After a good wash and brush up there was nothing else to do but sit it out until crunchie time. How boring. Then I found this. It was on the floor ready to throw away. It was a bit of a surprise when I first saw it but immediately peered behind, saw nothing so decided to have a long look at the handsome chap therein. Me. What grace, what elegance, what ears, what glossy fur and such a happy twitching nose. It's funny how it keeps going. I don't do anything special. Seems to have a life of its own.

Not too sure about the back view. Does my bum look big?


Your diary's filling up fast Harve, only a couple of pages left.

Strange Happenings

What on earth is this? I hope they haven't brought one of those giant rabbits to live here, there wouldn't be room because most of the house space is mine. Anyway I couldn't compete with such extraordinary sized messages. And look at the sparkles! I couldn't do that. My bits are always a darkish brown and being so fastidious I try to clear them up as I go along unless I decide litter tray action is needed, you can see a sample beside my water bowl below. Can't smell any food inside either. And something else has moved in next to my sleeping cushions. I've given it a good sniff but it doesn't roll along or make a noise. Better ignore it, it's probably something they've mislaid. My usual floor tracks aren't as clear as they should be either, boxes and bags keep appearing on my mats and some of them are too heavy for head-butting action. Hmm. There is definitely something unusual afoot.
Anyway, to important matters. I have a message for Smudge from the dottie about dog training. She says have you tried leaping from a great height, claws at the ready and landing on its face. She says it always works for her. Good luck!

Teeth

10.40 am; visit to dentist who looked very much like my vet. Smelled just like him too. They thought I had toothache because I kept stamping my foot and moving away from my crunchies each time I took a nibble. I can't remember why I did it but Simon thought I might have bitten my tongue by mistake or a bit of sharp crunchie could have hurt my mouth. He carefully felt round the outside of my face and gums which was a bit like a cuddle to see if I had an abscess or anything unusual there, then stuck a 'scope inside but all was well. My back teeth are a smidgen long but nothing out of the ordinary. It's said you can only see a quarter of a bunny's teeth when you inspect with a torch but if you are an exceptional rabbit specialist like my vet it's more like two thirds.

When he clipped my nails he noticed there was white paint on one of them and asked if I had been helping with decorating. I was so proud when J said I'd been overseeing things. Well, there was such a mess everywhere, just look at it.

As we left the surgery we saw a very sick rabbit waiting its turn. It had myxomatosis because it hadn't been vaccinated. J looked in its cage and was almost crying as we drove home. Poor bunny. It will have crossed Rainbow Bridge by now.

Harve knows the ropes and was very well behaved.

Bonjour

I'm so excited! I've been invited to visit my pen-pal, half-a-tail Mimi who lives in a ninth floor apartment in Paris. Naturally she's a house cat. Or a flat cat. Here she is taking the sun on one of her big balconies.
Our humans keep in touch for us so we know what the other one is up to. Living indoors means we get up to the same sort of things, eating, sleeping, hiding in various places, getting under feet and entertaining guests, so we'll have a lot in common. I'd say I'm more helpful around the house. She doesn't get so involved with what's going on and prefers to watch from a distance. The other morning about 2 am. she knocked over a vase of flowers and there was water all over the lovely wood floor. Then she paddled in it and tried to drink it so Sheila wouldn't notice but she made too much noise.

If I decide to go I wouldn't know what to wear. This beret is chic and very French but would Mimi be more impressed by English city style? And should I take champagne or onions?

I don't expect she's met a rabbit before as she was rescued from the streets so we might get on quite well. I know she'll be impressed by my manly appearance, most people are. She's quite pretty for a cat, a colourful coat with decent whiskers, I think I'll accept the invitation.

She also has teeth, Harve. And she's fast.

Comfort zones

Another success for rabbit-kind! YES! My hints for a litter tray upstairs in my bedroom have worked. Of course I am always my usual fastidious self in my concern for cleanliness, apart from that one tiny slip-up when I had to point out to visitors they were trespassing by sleeping in MY bedroom. The first rule according to the Great White Rabbit on Rainbow Bridge is never mess on ones own patch. This meant when I was upstairs and needed the -er- bathroom, I had to leave my comfort zone, scoot along the corridor, scamper down the stairs, freewheel across the hall, long jump from mat to mat in the kitchen and hook a right into the utility room cross legged.

Now, whenever I want a spot of personal space I can stay put in my favourite upstairs room, next to the airing cupboard and above the Aga. That's three separate areas in three different rooms I can call my own. Woe betide anyone who says they're not mine!

Must dash off and enter telepathic mode to get a bowl of water up there in case of overheating, dehydration or mirages. Water ... water ... water ...

Food and drink stay downstairs you lazy bun.

Kitten days

Here I am on my first day in my new home when I was mostly a big fluffy head with floppy ears and not much rear end.

Bet you can't guess which is me. I'm on the left of course. My brother Dylan who was bigger than me was a bit bad tempered and didn't like me much so some friends took him to live with them. He had a fenced in lawn and a large smart hutch but he was never a house rabbit. He died a couple of years ago. Sadly he ate some grass that had weedkiller on it. Poor Dylan.

I suppose I have always been a bit bossy, even as a kitten. Willow, my dog, soon got used to being told what to do, where she was allowed to sit, and when she could play with me. My game rules, naturally. You can tell she's waiting for instructions in the photograph. We were great buddies. It's nice to see old pictures and reminisce.

Harvey fell on his feet when he was bought for £30 from a pet shop. Had we known about rabbit rehoming and rescue he wouldn't be where he is today.