Easter Bunny Time.

I've just had special e-mail from family in Canada saying, as this is the busiest weekend in the year for me, I am not to work too hard. They want to make sure I get extra attention so they sent instructions to my lot to make sure I am given a special bunch of my favourite things to nibble. It looks perfect to me.
Apart from something in there called comfrey it's exactly the sort of thing I like.
So far this morning I've had a brocolli leaf and a dandelion flower. I threw the comfrey out so they put in the green bin. It's going to be a tasty weekend.

Then an extra special present came this afternoon. My friend Twigs baked some bunny biscuits just for me, all sugar and cereal and crunch. Mmm. I like Easter.

General house rabbit things.

Nothing very exciting this week, just the normal run of things for a house rabbit to keep his eye on.
That duck laid an egg on my gravel patch instead of making a nest for it then she laid another under a bush and left that one as well. She's next door now but still comes for food and a drink every day and has a snooze with us.
Don't know what she's thinking about this year. Wish she would make her mind up.

Had a very busy evening listening in on gossip while fifteen people came into my kitchen to eat.
I didn't stay under the table for long - there were too many big feet about so I hopped it back into the utility room for a bit of peace.

Brocolli leaves are good at the moment. A friend brings them for me from her garden. Leaves are the best. I won't eat the flowery bits.

Edward's coming to see me today. He lives with Spike and Poppy the lion head buns so he's used to house rabbits. He's two now so he probably won't want to play with my things under the table. I have nothing new anyway. I don't dash around after kitten type toys these days.

There's an awful smell in my kitchen now the decorator has gone. The utility room isn't too bad so I'm having my afternoon snoozes in there. My sense of smell is superb. As soon as a banana has the skin peeled, my nose goes into sniffing action. I can track it down in seconds. My eyesight is not as good as it was but we're all in the same boat in this house so it doesn't matter much. We understand one another and make allowances.

It's ok in daylight and when the house lights are on, otherwise I hop from one room to another more slowly than I used to and stop more often to get my bearings. I was a superb speed runner in my kitten days. I'd dash from room to room like a flash of lightening. They once threatened to tie a bell round my neck like that chocolate rabbit so they could hear me coming. My excellent sense of smell makes up for my poor sight as long as my familiar tracks from room to room are clear.

I'm still a bit messy every morning and need a regular rear end bath. That's when J grumbles about her sense of smell being too good. I don't suppose that will change now. I can't bend that extra little bit to reach right down there to clean myself properly even though I try so hard for ages and ages. J asked the vet if he saw many bunnies with my problem. He said he did, mostly buns with flat faces who were a bit over-bulbous at one end. Like me, they all come for a regular rear end shave.Things could be worse at my age. I'll be ten in a few months time. That's not a bad age for a rabbit. I love my life and my flat face.

I can still see well enough to help with the clean curtains. Got to put my smell on them first though.

Samantha

More unusual news from Canada for my diary. A gorilla called Samantha who lives in a zoo in Pensylvania has a new companion. Her bonded partner died and she is too old to make friends with another gorilla so Panda, a Dutch rabbit felt sorry for her and has moved in to keep her company. They share food and Samantha tickles Panda under her chin. I like a chin tickle myself

It's raining hard today so that duck hasn't come out of her hiding place. She doesn't like rain. Niether do I. We've decided to keep the back door shut just in case. She has such messy feet. Does she know she's a duck? Daffy would have been a better name than Daisy for her.

Daisy

Oh, bother! That duck is back and she's marching in and out of my house as cheeky as you like. I think she must know I'm not a cat or a dog because she looks straight through me as if I'm not there. She has been looking around for a nesting place but it's a bit too early and there's nothing tall enough in my flower borders for her to hide in. Well, she's not coming into my kitchen to lay eggs that's for sure.

A few well executed binkies should give her the hint if she tries that on.

I can't understand why my family is so pleased about it. They keep saying how clever she is not to have been shot. I suppose I'll just have to get used to the idea of sharing my garden again this year. I don't use it much anyway. A house rabbit has other jobs to do.

Breaking the rabbit habit

I am being de-conditioned, de- sensitised and detoxed. It's hard to admit it but I have to face the fact, I am a fringe addict. All the carpet fringes have been turned under because I'm chewing them all the time. Chewy mat, hay bag, willow ball and lots of other once interesting things are all being ignored while I sit and chew and nibble the carpet fringe. There's nothing I can do about it. I'm hooked. It lies there, tantalising and tempting, compelling me to pick it up in my mouth and nibble, nibble, nibbleNobody seemed interested to start with until they noticed some of my droppings were coming out attached to a piece of carpet fringe like a string of Christmas tree decorations. They know I'm an arty sort of chap so I thought they would have been pleased but when it happened more than once they decided to take me in hand.Why do I do it? Am I imagining I'm in a field of juicy grass or trimming my pot of parsley by the back door? Who knows.
I sit beside the carpet edge where the fringe used to be and I wait and wait and wait.
It's all making me have bad dreams. The last one was so awful I shot out of my bed and flew to my hidey hole and stamped my foot over and over again. Maybe I was dreaming I was being chased by a fox or a greyhound. I've heard about these things but thought they were just fairy tales to frighten kits when they were misbehaving.
All was well though. They heard me and cuddled me on the floor until I felt better. Thank goodness I don't live in a hutch. I could have had an apoplectic fit or something even more dramatic. I enjoy a bit of drama.

Cut and blo dry.

There's one thing about going to the vet, you realise you are not the only one with problems. Mine was the usual one this time, the rear end shave. It took ages because they chatted about all kinds of things instead of just getting on with the job and getting it over. I lay there in the most ungainly and unmanly position while they discussed new web sites and how to take a cat's blood pressure instead of concentrating on me. My skin around that area is tissue paper thin and needs very delicate handling. I was very impressed with Cleo the cat who was in the waiting room with me. She made a huge fuss and palava in her carrying cage to let everybody know how much she objected to being there. She shredded her newspaper bedding and spread it all over the place. I knew just how she felt.

She is nearly nineteen so is very experienced at showing her displeasure. Her human mum just smiled and said, "She always does that when she comes here." Of course she does. How else can she explain she isn't happy and wants to go home.
I'm going to practice my shredding technique today.