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.