Why?

I am a deprived rabbit. I have no hutch in the house, I have no haystacks in the house to bury myself in and I have no large bunches of carrots hanging from hooks at rabbit height in every room for me to munch on all day long.
Can I go on living like this? Should I consult the European Court of Rabbit Rights?
Why can't I have my own TV? Why do I have to wait for my tea at a certain time of day instead of when I feel like it?Even when I sit in the place they know is my teatime spot they still don't take the hint. Why do I have to tolerate my back end being checked every day? Why do I have to put up with all the hugs and kisses all day long? Why can't they keep stroking my face and ears for hours on end instead of just for the odd half an hour or so? Most of all why can't I have my Christmas sock NOW?
Harve has had a few of his old problems with his digestive system and has felt a bit grumpy and out of sorts. Probiotics in his drinking water for four days has sorted it and things seem to be back to normal.

Cushions and Me

It's been another busy day in front of the camera. A very famous designer came to take pictures of me to use on a cushion. I was photographed from all angles so she could get the feel of a rabbit. Of course I look good from all sides but I let her get on with it and sat as still as I could for her. She wondered what the bit sticking out was when she looked at me sideways. It was my nose! I know it's pretty flat but that was gong a bit too far.Mind you, I'm used to the things humans come out with but it still amazes me each time.
If you Google Anna Steiner you can find out about her work. She has done lots of theatre and opera stuff so I might get the chance to tread the boards one of these days. I can sing reasonably well when I hear words like Teatime or Carrots. I'm sure somebody could work those words into an aria. They sing about much sillier things than that.

I'm sleeping most of the time these days. Probably because I'm going to be eight next year. We older buns are just like old dogs and cats. We dream a lot about the days when we could leap about and run about for hours on end. I still play in the evening and I'm very careful about my bathroom habits. Well, these things are important when you are a house bunny. Especially one who has modelled for a cushion.

Harvey is eating and poohing just as he should and the vet is very pleased with him but we miss the hectic, exocet missile type behaviour. The kitten days are over. He is becoming very staid but content and very loving.

http://www.annasteiner.com/

Cold Feet?

My table is wearing socks! No, really. It gave me a bit of a surprise so I sidled up to it, sat beside it, sniffed and wandered round a couple of times in case I was seeing things but socks they were. I think it must be a new fashionable idea. I've heard the Victorians put skirts on their tables to hide the legs but this is ridiculous. It wouldn't matter so much if the socks matched but they don't. I might try to pull them off when nobody is looking. I can do it with real feet quite satisfactorily.I told one of my best friends about it. He is my blue dust-catcher who thoughtfully picks up any bits I might have mislaid. I'm quite attached to him. I like the noise he makes and I always run in to see what he is doing. He's probably some sort of relation because he smells just like me. Anyway, he had nothing to say about the socks so I am no further forward solving the mystery.

Harvey has never been a destructive bunny but he seems to have decided these feet need a good licking. Must find something else for him to play with in the evening.

Battle stations.

They've tried it on again! There's been another Timothy Hay invasion into my bowl of dried grass but it failed miserably thanks to your hero! I like my dried grass. I'm used to my dried grass. It's just a nice, comfortable size for my mouth and I can snuggle my nose into it to breath in its perfumed delights without getting prickled by ends of hay. I can rest my chin in it while I munch. Mmmm.

It's out now anyway. I chucked it overnight so they weren't there to interfere. Sorted.

Some things I can't do anything about though. No matter how much I object at the time they still take me to see my vet. I bounce, I sing, I eat and drink, I keep myself clean, I'm a happy, healthy sober bun in his eighth year but they still do it. Why? Have they got money to burn?

This time it's for another myxi jab. I had one six months ago but the powers that be have decided it should be every six months especially now I am an older chap.. The disease is getting so clever at changing it's attack mode.Some rabbits who have had one jab are still getting infected but my vet says he has seen much less of the disease with two injections so here I am again. My treat is dried apple skins at the moment so things aren't too bad.
On top of that, they decided I should have my back end shaved. How degrading is this?

The myxi vaccine is not produced from the myxi virus but from the fibroma virus, a close relation. This means the myxi vaccine is the same every year but the virus is crafty. It mutates like human flu. It's a shape shifter. Some years it is close to the fibroma vaccine, others not. This is why when inoculated your bunny can have 100% protection one year or only 70% another. At least this means it has a chance of surviving the disease. Non vaccinated buns have no chance.

While a 12 monthly injection was thought to be sufficient it is now considered it should be given every six months which gives a higher antibody response and anyway the vaccine only lasts for 6 months.
The fleas and flies that transmit the virus are out there in town and country just waiting to feed on your bunny and inject the virus. Make an appointment with your vet now. Our pets are worth it.

The dreaded Myxi.

Myxi is about again. We had email from the Rabbit Welfare Association asking us to let people know. Some humans don't understand that the virus can be spread by a bite from a flea who happens to be wandering by, looking for a cosy place in somebody's fur to spend the winter. How can we bunnies know when there might be one hopping around when we pop outside to check the weather or sneak a few of the last Ena Harkness rose petals? Better to have the jab. It doesn't hurt a bit and then I get a treat when I get home. I don't eat it straight away of course. I always leave it for a minute or two so they realise I can't be blackmailed.

My vet Simon always lets me know when it's time to pay him a visit. I will probabaly live to a ripe old age because I always do as I'm told. Well, some of the time. Well, occasionally. Well, now and then.

Anyway, we're worth it.Time to sort my space for winter evening relaxing. I'm not allowed to scrabble though. I can sort the cushions and pull the arm cover about but I'm not allowed to scrabble the seat. Can't understand their reasoning. Why can't they think like a rabbit? It works for me.

A close shave.

Nose rubs are the bees knees. I just lie there in a trance for as long as I can until I hear things like Oh my back or I think I'm stuck in this position for ever. Why all the fuss I'd like to know. We're the same age give or take a bunny year and I can still binkie, speed run and creep under the bed without any bother whatsoever. Why can't they? Poor quality animals these humans.

I had a close shave last week. It makes me shiver just to think about it. Molly, the cat down the-lane sneaked in through my front door while M was packing the car ready to go away for a few days. Luckily for me she ran straight upstairs. After they left, Pauline -the-Postie who was looking after me spotted her peering through the bedroom window and chased her out. The cheek of it. I can't bear to think what might have happened if she had come into the kitchen. She is a real hunter. Cats have no consideration for other people. Now we can't leave the door open to get a blow of fresh air. It's time they were kept in hutches at the bottom of the garden and visited once a day. See how they like that!

I have been tidied up. My alfalfa spray was spreading itself about on the carpet...nothing to do with me you understand...but it's in a shoe box now. I have to jump in and out to get at it. I wonder if they think I need more excercise?

Censored!

I am now Harve-the-Googleable! What fame. What world-wide appreciation and what superb literary taste somebody has. My first diary entry was in April 2007 so it has taken me over two and a half years to reach this pinnacle of success.

My family says the thing responsible for this new-found prominence is a spider! It creeps about inside my computer checking for unwholesome stuff and it found me because it thought I was something to do with human bunny girls. Of course I used to be a furry person of great sexual standing until they took me to the vet but we won't go into that.

I bet you it was an American spider. Not the sharpest tool in the shed I would guess. Anyway fame by association will have to do for now until somebody decides to publish me. I wonder if Ms Rowling has found me yet? I wonder if there are such things as rabbit bunnygirls?

Is that a sprout leaf in my dish? Yuk.