For High-Stress Companion-Critters, nothing beats Living With Hoomins.

Nothing. 

Maman waked up pretty early for her This Morning and came padding out innu the BunRoom not looking so good.

This was not the fault of Alla Us Togedder, you unnerstand. We were being preddy quiet onna'count obba Fakt it was raining outside and still pretty much Looking Like Dark. So we were kind of just sitting there in our habitats, munching hay and not doing ennyfing (not even Dusty) that could be called "loud". 

Whut she got woke up by was the Fakt that the gutter thingie outside the Bedroom Window has a clog or sumfing innit and that made the rain-water overflow the sides and go "thunk-thunk-thunk" onna ground instead of flowing quietly through the downspout out onnu the lawn, and the sound Aggryvated her "Mygraine" and made her head hurt - and that's whut Woke Her Up.

And that's Whut I Think - but the main fing to bemember heer, issat: It Was Not Us.

Rabbits, as a species, are Very Low Stress - but Living With Hoomins is Very High Stress, lemme tell you!

So, like, this week has been a Reel Nightmare.

Furst, Maman innerduced us toda concept of Agent. She's a writer (well, she was a musician, furst, but she's a writer now that she can't play the 'cello-thingie ennymore) and this is mostly fine onna'count obba Fakt it issa mostly quiet, nap-enhancing profession. And the last time she went through alla werk of actually publishing ennyfing serious was back in 1987, which is before Our Lore. (She says non-fiction, specialist peery-yodicals doesn't count) - so we didn't know ennyfing about the Care and Feeding of Agents. But Maman felt like she hadda go and get wun. 

Whutebber. We were 'dopted, the Catz were 'dopted, and so wassa Dawg. We unnerstand the concept of "Rescue". We didn't unnerstand the concept of "agent" - and now that we do, we have discovered that they are (like udder hoomins) Very High Stress companions!

As far as we can see (which is not much onna'count obba Fakt Agents don't visit once they are rescued) agents exist to have "needs" and Maman exists to fulfill them. The Agent calls and "needs" to have this by then. So Maman sets to werk to get this accomplished by the appointed time. Hokay, and that's nice, and Maman has the required whutebber completed by the desired whenever. But then the Agent calls back and "needs" sumfing else by anudder time. And off Maman goes, grimly hoping to please, again.

Whut we have lerned is that Maman is a lot like certain kinds of Dawgs - she's a Pleaser, anxious to do whutebber it takes to make udders happy.

Which Missy says is Fine-By-Her, so long as it's Our Happiness that's unner consideration heer - and not sum recently-rescued-species-of-agent we've not even met!

And Mouse said he doesn't begrudge anudder companion-critter being rescued, hexcept Maman put him - Mr Mouse - inna BunPen inna SittingRoom to watch Law & Order on his ownliest, which sort of made it seem like she was trying to get away with combining Playtime with his Television-watching-time, and that was - in his opinion - Not On. He didn't get to have His Pillow and she didn't give him his own bowl of RiceChex cereal and what was Worst of All, there was an eppysode on that had that Noo ADA innit, the one who is not Jack McCoy (who is Mr Mouse's hero) and Mouse was forced to watch it onna'count obba Fakt he did not have access to The Remote (which Maman insists is a hoomin-only fing and Mouse doesn't know how to werk ennyways).

Yeah. Talk about High Stress!

So while we kinda unnerstand the Economic Downturn anna need for Maman to (in her werds) "use her head for sumfing udder than a mildly decorative ornament" in order to help keep us in carrots, this whole "writer-gig" seems preddy intrusive frum where we sit - or are trying to sit, onna'count obba Fakt, even sitting is getting pretty pr'carious, right about Now, too - whut with Dadda grabbin' pootie-boxes right out frum unnerneaf of our Nether Regions prak'tickly as soon as we sit down.

I mean, Rilly!

Isn't it bad enuf that Dadda steals our pooties onna reg'lar basis, ennyways? I mean, whut's up with that?

It's getting to the point where I can't even hop innu the pootie-box without carefully looking over my shoulder to make sure sumbunny isn't sneaking up behind me, ready to grab the pan and make a run for the Back Door. Whut if I get carried Out With the Pan? Why is stealing my Smell so important? I werk hard to put that Smell in there and then Dadda comes in and grabs it right out frum unner me!

He says it's "valuable stuff". Yeah, well, I know that! It's My Smell, for crying out loud! Mine!

And he's throwing it out innu the Gardin!

And I know that's whut's happinin', too, onna'count obba Fakt the Dawg told me there's a whole Raised Veggytubble Bed out inna Gardin with a little white fence around it. Dadda yelled at him to "Get Away frum that, you daft Muttley!" and the Dawg was so offended, he came in and complained to me that he wasn't allowed to mark My Smell with His Smell.

And I was, like, "Lookit, you can't put Your Smell on My Smell! That's My Smell!"

Anna Dawg was, like, "But it's in My Gardin, right near where I go On Patrol. I gotta put My Smell on it in order to keep the Wandering Catz away frumma Gardin!"

And I'm, like, "But it's My Smell!"

Anna Dawg is, like, "Yeah, but it's in My Gardin!"

So I'm, like, "Who's fault is that?"

So that's anudder fing that's severely screwed up - Dadda's throwin' My Smell inna Dawg's Gardin and now the Dawg is trying to put His Smell over My Smell.

Yeah. Hoomins! High-stress companions, Lemme tell you!

------------------------------------- By George.

.

Posted by Our Warren at 9:40 AM EDT

Updated: Friday, 29 May 2009 9:41 AM EDT

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Maman says Today is Memorial Day, so I'm typing in "patriotic colours".

She says today is the day we honour every human who ever died fighting for The United States in Our Military. Then she told Missy and me the names of all the people in Our Family who served inna Military in Our Family. There is a long list, beginning before Noo Joisey and Pennsylvania even became states! Her List actually begins with sumbunny named Christian Hershey who listened to Dr. Franklin and believed inna "Rights of Man" and fought against King George (can you believe it?) of Inkland in 1776.

Yeah!

So there was Christian Hershey in 1776, and then somebunny with the funny name "Gasaway" frum Baltimore in 1796 and 1812, and then Colonel Norris L. Yarnell and his brothers, and George Cost and the Wheatley brothers in the 1860's, and then Maman's Granddaddy who joined up as a Chaplain on the very last day of World War I.

And then Pearl Harbour happened, and that was the beginning of World War II for the United States. Of course, World War II was already happening in Inkland where Dadda's Dadda, Jack, was wandering around inna jungles of Burma looking for his regiment that had been shot to pieces, because the British were fighting against Imperialism long before the Americans got innu it. But the bombing of Pearl Harbour on Sunday Morning, December-Seven brought the United States innu World War II.

So on Monday Morning, December-Eighth, Maman's Dadda (who was Our Bim) went with his three bestest friends down to the Army Air Corps Headquarters in Newport, RI to volunteer to become pilots. They had all heard Fred Prince tell about being a dashing aviator over the trenches in France, and they'd watched Ernst Udet, the German ace, pick up a lady's handkerchief with a fish-hook attached to the wing of his airplane. To four young men in their first year of college, that seemed like the perfect life for them. They would join the Air Corps, become pilots and tour the world! So on December-Eighth they met at Our Bim's House and then walked down Broadway together to the recruiter's. They were Bim, Dave and Bill Sweet, and John Lauth. 

Well, Maman said that the Army Air Corps was a very popular service right about then, so they could afford to be picky. The recruiter rejected John because of his eyesight, Bim said, and then rejected both of the Sweet boys, and then rejected Bim onna'count obba Fakt he had flat feets. 

So they left that recruiter's office feeling pretty upset and angry. And just as they were all standing outside the Army Air Corp's office, frowning and complaining as only a bunch of teenage guys onna street-corner can, a Chief Petty Officer came out of his recruiting office across the street and yelled to them, "Hey guys! Whutssamatta? Those prima donnas in the Army aren't the only ones with planes, y'know! Come on over to the Navy and we'll sign you up!"

Well, Newport was a Navy town, Maman said, so of course all four boys (because they were younger than Our Phil) crossed the street and signed up with the Navy.

Because Our Bim was in his first year of Medical School, the Navy said to him, "Hey! Don't waste that Ivy League education! Just sign right here and we'll make you a nurse!" So Bim figured he'd sign up to become a nurse and then get himself transferred into being a pilot. So he signed. When someone got to the part about how old was he, he bragged about being in college and let everyone assume he was older than he was. He said he didn't outright lie, but he didn't tell the truth, either, because if he had, the Navy wouldn't have let him sign. And ennyways, he also put down some Admiral as a refrence so the Navy let it slide on through. 

And his mother, who was Maman's Granny was furious and called up just about everyone she knew the moment Bim got home - but by then, it was pretty much Too Late - Bim was inna Navy and that was that - but Granny wasn't about to let him take on enny dangerous jobs like flying airplanes and more than knowing the Admiral, she knew the Admiral's wife. So Bim became a Chief Surgical Nurse and spent the rest of the war trying to convince anyone who would listen that he rilly should be somewhere near to an airplane. No one listened and Bim never went anywhere further frum Newport, Rhode Island than Maryland.

He fortygot to rekon with the Power of the Mamans and Afternoon Tea in the Werld-As-It-Was.

His friend, John, didn't get to be a pilot, either. The Navy is like that. They ask you what you want to do and then they decide where they want to put you. Sometimes the two coincide, but not often. Of the four friends, only Bill Sweet got to be a pilot.

And the other three thought he was lucky, because that's exactly what they had signed up to be.

But near the end of the war, Bill Sweet took off from some island in the Pacific ocean and got involved with some other pilots from Japan, and the last anyone saw of Bill's plane, it was chasing off into the sun.

And he never came back. And no one ever heard from him again.

The Navy said he was "lost".

But I don't think so. I don't think anyone is ever really "lost". I think Bill Sweet prob'ly found some back way across the Bridge and landed his airplane in the Meadow. And he got out of his plane, and saw there were bunnies and dogs and kitties and lots of other critters and so he sat down with his back against a handy tree and that's where Our Bim and the rest of his friends found him waiting for them.

But it's the Story of Bill Sweet that's important today - how he and Our Bim and Dave and John all went together down to the recruiter's in Newport on the Day After Pearl Harbour. It's the stories of the past - The Lore - that inform the Present, and give shape to the Future.

Because, you see, Our Bim told the Story of the Day After Pearl Harbour and the story of Bill Sweet to Our Phil - and that's howcome on the Day After Nine-Eleven, Our Phil didn't bother with the Army when President Bush went on television and said "We are at war.". Our Phil went down to the Navy Recruiter, cut out being rejected in case he possibly had flat-feet, and signed up to work with computers.

And the Navy, being the Navy, listened to what Phil wanted and then put him where they decided they needed him - with airplanes...

So today, we remember the Crowd of Others who also found a backdoor to the Bridge - and all the corageous Critters Who Served. Don't fortyget them! Dawgs, horses, mules, even pigeons - who all were inna Military and did amazingly brave things for those who loved them and whom they loved! We bemember everybun of them Today.

Along with Bim's friend, Bill.

------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 7:55 AM EDT

Updated: Friday, 29 May 2009 9:42 AM EDT

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Maman is upset because she feels we heer at Our Warren are not Eating.

She is worried that maybe Missy's tummy might hurt because she is not eating her Romaine, and she is beginning to bug Foxie because she only wants to eat baby organic carrots and not Romaine. She has accused Mr Mouse of being a "picky eater" because Lastest Night, he lunged at her onna'count obba Fakt the lightning made him Nervous and he didn't want his Hearts o' Romaine. Then she came afta me onna'count obba Fakt I stole from Missy's pile of Salad (Yeah, like Missy never steals frum me!) and scored a coupla-bites of carrot.

Only Dusty seems to be eating to Maman's satisfaction, and that boy eats Ev'ryfing he can find and produces the pooties to Proove It, Lemme tell you!

So now we have Maman, looking innu our Pootie-boxes, and holding us up to check us unner'neaf, and looking innu all of our food-crocks and trying to pry up Bunny-Lips to look innu our mouths to see Our Toofies because she is Werried About the Springtime Shed making our tummies hurt and destroying our Appytites and messing with Our Lower Digestive Tracts.

It's enuf to drive a HouzRabbit nutz!

Anna Hay!

Lemme tell you about The Hay.

There is enuf Hay going on Around Heer that Maman hasta sweep up the BunRoom twice ev'ry day. I mean, I'm sorting for all I am worth, and the stuff keeps on coming!

Don't get me wrong - I love Hay! Lovely, fragrant, locally-grown Timothy-hay - there is nothing better! - but having it rain down on you, getting in your ears, making a swamp in your water-crock, filling up your nostrils and covering over your Salad so that you gotta dig to find the Green Stuff - y'know, it's Just Not-Right!

The Morning Handful usta be sumfing to Look Forward To. You woke up around Still Looks Like Dark, and there were pellets to munch, grooming to be done, a bit of tidying up to do before the Dawg wandered outta the BedRoom, dragging Dadda on behind, to go for his Morning Patrol. And then Maman would show up for her Morning Coffee and get us the Morning Handful frumma Hay Locker outside.

And that was fine.

Nice, big handful of fresh Hay to sort through, and enjoy - clip this, sort that, eat a strand here, munch a bunch of that, and you could feel-the-love. But NOW - geez! - Now there is Hay everywhere. It's not "feel-the-love", it's eat-it-or-get-buried. I'm eating to stay afloat onna Sea of Stalks.

Worse is if I don't eat this mess down, Maman will come in, scoop up what Missy and I can't manage to eat, cart it away and then TOSS IN MORE!

And all onna'count obba Fakt she's afraid we're not Eating Right.

We need help in heer, lemme tell you!

And worse, it's not only us - it's bunnies ev'ry wheres!

Yeah.

Auntie Carla is werried that poor Normy isn't putting out his normal Out-Put (if you know whut I mean) and Unkul Michael is "Keeping an eye on" Our Cousins Janie and Bailey in Noo Yawk. Poor Janie hadda v-e-t called on her for not Eating Right! Ev'ry wheres treats are being decreased and getting replaced by "Good For You Foods" - I mean, Whut's Up With That?

And Yestidday, Maman said to Dadda, "I dunno, but maybe we're gonna have to switch from buying Romaine to another type of green..."

And I'm, like, "Waidaminit - Romaine is a Foundational Food! I've been eating Romaine Cups Piled High With Fresh Herbs Garnished With Baby Organic Carrots and Froot Slices and/or Berries In Season for the past Five Years! You gotta-be-kiddin' me!"

But seeing as how she said it as she was tossing another handful of Hay innu Missy and my habbytat, Maman didn't hear me - and by the time I'd fought my way to the crest of this latest Hay-wave, she had alreddy mooved on to go bother the Dawg. Seems he's not Eating Right, either...

-------------------------- by George

Posted by Our Warren at 8:59 AM EDT

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I have been a very lucky bunny.

• I got taken away frum my mawmie too early but I got bought assa Easter Bunny and wasn't sold for snake food.
• When my furst people didn't want me, they put me inna cardboard box and left me inna v-e-t's office but Maman came and took me home to Our Warren.
• I felt skert and very Small, but I met Belinda Bunny (Inkwish Spot) and she let me sleep cuddled up beside her and groomed my head.
• Then Belinda went away and crossed the Rainbow Bridge but Our Friend, Miss Nikita (Inkwish Spot) typed to me, and helped me to see how lucky I was to have even met Belinda inna Furst Place! 

Onna'count obba Fakt ev'rybunny needs an Inkwish Spot Bunny in their lives at some point. 

It's like Auntie Suzy needed to get Mr Brown outta dat Chikin Place. It might have been fulla hoomins who "meant well", but their good intentshuns didn't produce good results for bunnies. And Harold (Inkwish Spot) knew this! So there was Brown, who only had wun eye and who was sik, and so Harold pointed him out and Auntie Suzy got permission to take Brown innu her car and Harold watched that, and he thought to himself,

"Hang on. I'm not staying here on my Ownliest with chikins!"

So Harold hopped up and stowed away innna back seat of Auntie Suzy's car, and sat very quietly until the Whole Bunny Rescue Wagon got back to Auntie Suzy's place and then he hopped out and was like, "Hey, Brown! I'm staying with you!"

And that was that.

Notice Suzy played no part in that Decision. It was all Harold - Harold rescued Brown, and then Harold rescued Harold.

But that's typical of Inkwish Spot bunnies. They make Decisions and carry them out. They are Project-oriented Rabbits.

Inkwish Spots are like Pennyroyle who start out inna evening lounging inside their habbytats, but who greet their mawmie, Auntie Grace, ev'ry morning sittin' on top of their habbytats, yelling cheerfully, "Hey, you! I know you fink this thing is bunny-safe, but lookie heer - Guess Again!"

Inkwish Spots take charge of Warrens, like Miss Nikita.

Auntie Tina wants to take part inna Marry-Thon, go for a 5K run just onna'count obba Fakt she can.

And Inkwish Spots are inna Biznizz of hearing about sumfing and then making it a  Reality. So Miss Nikita took over training Auntie Tina. Afta all - nobunny Runs like a bunny! So if you're gonna train, you might as well train with The Best!

And Auntie Tina hexpekted that Miss Nikita would be there, waiting for her, at the Finish Line to tell her alla things that she'd done wrong during the 5K Marry-Thon - hexcept that Miss Nikita got to another Finish Line and crossed the Rainbow Bridge, far, far out ahead of Auntie Tina, instead.

Of course that doesn't mean that Miss Nikita won't be watching Auntie Tina run inna Marry-Thon - so far as I unnerstand it frum The Lore as it was told to me by me,Hunny (Senior Bun of Our Warren), Miss Nikita will be watching, along with her bond-mate Rosey and prob'ly Our Belinda and her bondmate, Hawthorn, and enny other bunnies who like to watch a good show. And they will most likely make a day of it and bring a picnic lunch with several kinds of hay, froot and enny udder treats Belinda can lay her paws on.

Because Inkwish Spot bunnies are the Planners and the "Project" bunnies; the bunnies who look at the Werld As It Is and fink to themselves, "I can't be habbin' wif dis." and then go fix whutever isn't the Way It Should Be.

Or else they challenge the Rest Of Us to get it done.

Because we've been around them, and have been shown The Way It Should Be. We've been *there* when an Inkwish Spot yelled, "Hey!" and suddenly did Whut No Bunny Had Done Before. Like looked at a wire, followed where it went and said to no-bunny in particular, "If I snip that, sumbunny will come. And when they do, we will Turn On Our Cute and they will Pet Us."

And when the wire was snipped, and Phil came to fix it, Belinda turned on her Cute, and sidled up to Phil - but he didn't pet her! He pushed her away and said, "Not now, Belinda. I'm busy!"

So she lowered her head and came back to him with her Cute running at full-blast - and he pushed her away again.

And Belinda sat back, looked at Phil and said, "I can't be habbin' wif this!"

And she ran unnerneath of him, pointed her head "up" and bit him inna Very Tender Part of his Anatomy.

And Belinda watched Phil fly up inna air and come down, holding on to his Tender Anatomy, and she stuck up her ears, lowered her head and said, "Now you won't be too busy to pet me."

Inkwish Spot Rabbits do not walk away frum Challenges. They make up their minds and Do Sumfing.

Like Miss Nikita took care of Her Hoomin. 

When her Hoomin was crying, Miss Nikia stayed with her. She knew wiffout being told, "Hoomins should not cry OnAlone." So Nikita stayed with her hoomin.

When it was time to go to bed and her hoomin was still crying, Miss Nikita didn't abandon her or walk away or go to sleep inna'hextposed area - because nobunny should ever have to be OnAlone. But it was getting Later and Later and her Hoomin was still crying and Nikita thought: "I can't be having with this."

So Miss Nikita bemembered her Purple Igloo that was inna'nudder room and she went to get it. And she set her her head against the Purple Igloo and she push-push-pushed that Purple Igloo outta the Udder Room and Downna Hallway and Innu the Room Where the Hoomin was, and push-push-pushed that Purple Igloo right nextest to her Hoomin's feets, then got innu the Igloo, turned around so she was facing out-wards and went to sleep wif her head on her Hoomin's feets. 

And that's Devotion.

That's Problem-Solving.

And bunnies who do stuff like that don't ever leave their hoomins OnAlone. 

Onna'count obba Fakt that deep down, Inkwish Spots are the ownliest rabbits that dare to speak the Troof - that hoomins like bunnies should never be OnAlone. It is a Lie that hoomins can exist OnAlone, because if they are left OnAlone, Without Proper Supervision, hoomins (obviously) will:

• Cry alone
• Talk onna computers and phone and never bother to connect with each other face-to-face, and therefore stay OnAlone
• Ride in cars alone
• Run Marry-Thons feeling very much alone

Hoomins can feel the same way I felt - terrified, hopless and destitute - when I was left inna cardboard box all OnAlone atta v-e-t's, before Belinda let me sleep all snug and warm curled up nextest to her in Our Warren.

But, I axt you - issa Bunny who pushes a Purple Igloo frum room-to-room just to comfort her Hoomin rilly gonna just go away and leave her Hoomin all OnAlone because she has gone to the Rainbow Bridge? Can you rilly believe that an Inkwish Spot hopped across a shining, glittering thread of a bridge, through the thinnest veil that hangs like spiders' silk between two worlds and is somehow no longer innerested in the Hoomin she loved?

I guess you also fink Harold doesn't care about the Hoomin he worked so hard to follow home, the one he insisted rescue little Brown!

Do you rilly believe Love is so fragile that the misty boundaries between worlds can change the Spots on a determined Project-Manager Rabbit?

You know Whut I Fink? I fink that tiday there are a bunch of bunnies who gathered Very Early This Morning at the Little Kiosk at the End of the Rainbow Bridge, and ev'ry bunny brought a baskit with them. And Hawthorn and Hunny (who are Lops, and devoted to Good Eating) helped ev'ry bunny choose frum piles of choice Hay, Froot and other Treats, until their baskits were full to bursting.

And I fink that whe alla bunnies had their baskits filled, Belinda Bunny (Inkwish Spot) handed out copies of her special Map o' the Meadow that has alla Bestest Looking-Down Spots clearly marked out onnit. And then I fink that Miss Nikita (Inkwish Spot) showed ev'ry bun where Her Bestest Looking Spot was located, and then ev'ry bunny grabbed up their baskits in their toofies and chased allaway through the Meadow, till they got to where Miss Nikita and Rosey have their liddle Place, and Miss Nikita showed them all where to look down frumma Meadow to see In-Dee-Yanna.

And so now they're all watching and cheering for Auntie Tina doing her 5K Marry-Thon. And there's alotta visiting and cheering and eating, and of course, there's binkying and chasing alla'round and Miss Nikita is telling Belinda that this is How Fings Should Be, onna'count obba Fakt it's how she figgered. And Belinda's like, Yeah, and she'd better be seein' an entry inna Hay Didaries blog abouddit, too, and Hunny's like, Well, lookit, have sum hay. I'm sure it'll all get innu The Lore...

------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 10:08 AM EDT

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Well, the Economy seems to be in Trubble.

At least that's all that's inna Noos, besides "pirates" anna SEALS anna Navy - but I hextpect to see the Navy onna'count obba Fakt Our Phil was innit.

But the Economy issa Whole Nudder Bunny (as the saying goes).

So I axted Maman "Whut's up with alla this 'Economy' suff?" and she gave me this long, complicated Discussion that involved History, Geography, Polly-Ticks, anna whole bunch of Udder Subjecks and quotes frum Professors and stuff I can't bemeber hextactly, but frum Whut I Can Figger Out, this Whole Fing shold be preddy easy to solve.

Onna'count obba Fakt, it all has to do with the Circle of Bright, which is preddy much a Lagomorphic way of looking at fings - which is why "Economics" has never much bothered bunnies. So, for Hoomins, I will try to hextplain. The theory behind it might be a liddle complicated, but in practice, it werks like this:

Furst, I had a look around and decided: I am hokay.

So nextest, I looked at Missy, and like she was sorting hay innu "eat", "don't eat" and "George eat". So I didn't get involved with that onna'count obba Fakt there are some Fings you just let Missy get on with on her Ownliest without boddering to axt her enny 'pinions, lemme tell you! Just sorta assume that if somefing is the matter with Her Werld, she's gonna let you know abouddit in Very Short Order.

So, afta watching Missy for a minit and deciding everyfing was going pretty hokay so far as she was concerned, I called over to Mr Mouse in his habbytat, "Hey, Mouse! You hokay over there?"

And he was, like, "Yeah. Could stand wiffa clean-out anna carrot this morning didn't seem big enuf as usual and there was too much parsley, but inna main, ebberyfing is hokay!"

So then I axted Dusty and Foxie if they were hokay.

And they each said that they were, hextcept for the minor details about there not being nearly enuf treats for their liking, of course.

But my point is this:

The Furst Thing to do inna Economy is to make sure you are hokay. Then make sure everybun inna Warren is preddy much hokay - and if they don't have food, or water, or if they are cold or not feeling well, they will tell you.

Now if sumbunny in your Warren isn't Hokay, or if the Warren is in danger, then it's your job as TopBun to round up ev'rybunny else, have a fink, and see Whut Needs To Be Done to solve the Immediate Problem. Then Alla Us Togedder shares alike in getting done Whut Needs to Be Done - onna'count obba Fakt a Warren is Alla Us Togedder.

And afta you got that handled, you moove on to your Neighbours.

So, just about Then, the Dawg careened past on his way to the Door to the Back Gardin. He's still having trouble with his "Canine Vestibular Disorder", which means that he still feels like the Earth is mooving unn'erneath of his feets, so he's weaving back-and-forth like a sailor-on-shore-leave (as Phil would say).

And he's still not eating his dinners. He's only eating MilkBone Dawg Biscuit Treats and only if Dadda hands them to him. He seems to have sumfing wrong with his left eye, like he can't see outta it so good to find the food in his dinner-bowl, or like he doesn't want the food that's in there. Whutebber. There is somefing that's Not Hokay going on with him.

Please don't misunn'erstand me! He's still cheerful and he's still trying to do his Jobs, and to please ev'rywun, but he's a Border-Collie and this is Whut Border-Collies Do. But Yestidday Aftanoon, when he was trying to chase KayCee Kitty outta Our BunRoom (onna'count obba Fakt he still maintains his "No Catz Inna BunRoom" Rool) he slipped while he was going around a corner and fell down onna floor inna Dining Room. It made a very loud ~ bang! ~ and scared Maman and us, and made Dadda come running. And it made the Dawg afraid to stand up again without help frum Dadda. This is not like Our Dawg!

So, as he came past this morning, sort of brushing past Mr Mouse and then banging innu Missy's and my habbytat, I axted him, "Hey Doggo! Are you hokay?"

And Marc sorta whined (which is not like him!), "Well, I need to go out On Patrol, George-the-Bun."

And I'm, like, "Well, hang on, here come Dadda to opin the door for you. And he's prob'ly gonna go out with you, too."

And Marc said, "Yeah. Dadda helps the grass hold still."

So Dadda helped Marc go downnasteps and steadied him while he got across the walk out on to the grass.

And Maman came through afta Marc and Dadda and I stood up and Maman and I went nose-to-nose, and I was, like, "You know, I know the Dawg's v-e-t said his Verty-go would clear up inna'coupla' days, but it's been a coupla'days and the Verty-go is still boddering him. So mebbe you betta make anna'pointment for him to go to seeda v-e-t and get checked out, onna'count obba Fakt there might be something else the matta with him. Because he's not recovering like DokterPeterBatts said he should. And I know you don't wanna fink abouddit and nedder do Alla Us Togedder, but mebbe we hafta because we love him."

And Maman looked at me and she sighed and I knew that she and I were thinking the same sorts of things about how old Marc is, and how much can go wrong and how much we don't want ennyfing to be wrong.

Sumtimes Not Knowing is betta than Knowing, because when you know sumfing, you might have to do sumfing. And sumtimes you don't wanna have to do fings at all.

But love is about doing.

Love isn't just talking.

It is not a passive kinda werd that just sits there, looking at itself. It looks outward, sort of glowing.

Assa TopBun, I kinda fink of myself assa little spark sitting inna middle obba circle of bright -  and then I imagine me, making the circle bigger by making it hextend out to include Alla Us Togedder. And with Alla Us Togedder inside of the circle, then we're all glowing, so we can hextend that Circle of Bright that's around us out to include those around us in Our Warren. And when Our Warren is glowing brightly, then it's Circle of Bright can touch other brightly glowing circles in God's Great Warren, and reach out to hold back the Darkness.

And that's sorta Whut We Do. We each glow with a sorta Divine spark, a tiny touch of God's love-within-us, and we can choose to either let that spark hextspand, or we can keep it to ourselves. Of course, keeping it all to ourselves doesn't really do much to help the Circle of Bright hextpand, but reaching out to others, does.

My own hextperience is that when you opin up your Circle of Bright to touch sumbunny else's, your own personal spark inna middle of your personal Circle of Bright kinda lights up and gets stronger, too.

So that's how I figger the Economy can be fixed - by ev'rybunny opining up their Circle of Bright to touch ev'rybunny else's. Onna'count obba Fakt, when eve'rybun's Circle of Bright is touching and glowing that means that ev'rybun is safe and doing hokay, and the Darkness of OnAlone is kept away by the Brightness of Alla Us Togedder.

Yeah. I told you, it's a very Lagomorphic way of looking at fings. But, then, whuttayawant? I'm a HouzRabbit!

--------------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 12:19 PM EDT

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Did We heer at Our Warren ever have a week of It! Lemme tell you!

It all started Lastest Sunday, when Dadda got up inna middle obba Night to go getta bowl of Cereal.

Yeah.

So, we were all, like, sitting in Our Habbytats, and heer comes Dadda, and he turns onna liddle light so he doesn't wake up Maman (onna'count obba Fakt that even though she was still inna Bed Room asleep, she can still see enny light that goes on ennywheres onna'count of having had children and having to sleep with Wun Eye Opin Just-In-Case.).

So Dadda was inna Kitchin, getting a Bowl of Cereal, and we heard Da Dawg get up offa his bed and start coming frumma Bed Room to follow Dadda - onna'count obba Fakt the Dawg lives on Hope - that Dadda will someday drop a Whole Bowl of Cereal onna floor. It's nebber happined yet, but When It Does, the Dawg figgers he's gonna be there to help clean it up.

But This Time, the Dawg didn't make it innu the Kitchin. He only got as far assa Door to Phil's Place when suddenly he crashed innu the door and fell down. And whut was worse - he couldn't stand back up!

Scared the pooties outta me, lemme tell you!

So there wassa lotta running around and Phil came flying uppa stairs and Maman waked up and Dadda gotta car and they carried Poor Dawg off, wrapped inna blankie to seeda 'Mergency Vet!

And alla suddin, it was very silent inna Houz with Just Us anna Stoopit Catz who had No Cloo. In fakt, we had more cloos than they did onna'count obba Fakt I sat and listened to Maman instead of running around her feets like an Idiot, trying to get her to feed-me-or-fall-over, but that's a Whole Udder Story...

Ennyways, Maman, Dadda, Phil anna Dawg finally came back like two hours later and Maman and Dadda and Phil were talking about Canine Vestibular Disorder which is Whut wassa Matter Wiffa Dawg. Anna Dawg was standing there, with Phil holding him up, with his head onna side like sum poor bunny with Head-tilt (which issa terrible illness bunnies get in their ears and makes them unable to stand or eat or ennyfing.).

But in dogs, this Canine Vestibular Disorder issa'lot like Maman's Verty-Go, except it will go away In Time, whereas Maman is more-or-less perm'netly Dizzy (no story there!).

Well, the Dawg came in frum the Rain on his Morning Patrol wif Dadda, complaining that this last week has been a Reel Bugger. He said the ground won't stay while he's walking onnit, and he needs Dadda to help him sort out his paws so he can go Out On Patrol inna Gardin, and he's uppyset onna'count obba Fakt the wadder in his bowl won't stay still for him to drink it, anna food in his Dawg-bowl keeps moovin' around so he can't grab it to eat it. Worse still, he can't do his Normal Jobs, so he hadda listen to alla Rubbish Trucks come and go without him, and Don-Nextest-Door started uppa Boat wiffout him barkin' in Cellybrashun, anna kids all walked home frum school wiffout him barkin' they were onna way. And he's rilly werried onna'count obba Fakt he hasn't taken part inna Mornin or Eveing Barks, so none obba Udder Dawgs inna Neigbourhood know everyfing is Normal heer at Our Warren until he gets back toda Biznizz of Reg'lar Patrols on his Ownliest.

Which will take about anudder week.

So the Dawg said tiday when he came in frumma Patrol-wif-Dadda, "This sucks. I can't ebben shake. I gotta million hairs in my fur and every time I go to shake to get 'em all comfy again, I fall over!"

And Missy was like, "Well, ya'know, it's not so bad. Bemember, There is Allus an Egg."

Anna Dawg just looked at her, with his head onna side onna'count obba Fakt he can't hold it straight, with wun eye up anna udder eye struggling to get in the same direction, and he said, "Whut do you know abouddit, Missy-Bossy-Bun Rabbit?"

And Missy settled on her paws and was like, "Wookit, Doggo. According toda Lore - as it was told to me by me, Hunny, SeniorBun of Our Warren - Good Friday wassa Worstest Day Inna History Ob Anglican Lore. And we are Anglican bunnies, bemember? Onna'count obba Fakt Hunny usta go to Saint-Luke's in his baskit to getta pet frumma Rev'rend-dokter GinnySheay mostly around dis time of year, but a lotta udder times, too. He and Maggie were there when Maman and Dadda got bonded."

Anna Dawg was like, "Yeah, yeah, I bemember alla that. I'm 14 years old and I bemember a more obba Lore than even you do. Like I axtually bemember when Hawthorn usta go to Saint-Luke's, and to the Cathedral, too, and get Blessed and then come back and spread the Blessing alla'round. And Belinda went once and Maman sed she wasn't gonna take Belinda again because Belinda wouldn't hold still and she pulled onna priest's pants-leg and then almost snipped his shoestrings and when he didn't pet her, she kept trying to Take Over, and Maman said she was thankful for Father Dirk and Dean Chattin anna'nudder Bishop because Belinda was justa mess or sumfing..."

And Missy innerupted him and was, like, "Yeah. Well, listen up, onna'count obba Fakt this is Whut Hunny told to me aboudda Whole Easter Fing and it's in Our Lore so it applies to you." 

And she kicked her feets out behind her and continued, "So Good Friday wassa Werst Day There Could Be so far as Hope was concerned. Good Friday had it all when it came to Bad - injustice, cruelty, misery, terror, death - you name it and it was Bad, then it was there, all happinen At Once inna Same Place atta Same Time. The Whole Werld was OnAlone, and you know Whut That Is."

Anna Dawg said, "When you have no Pack and there is nobunny you care about and nobunny cares for you. That's 'OnAlone'."

"No Warren." Corrected Missy. "It's when you got No Warren."

"Pack." Insisted the Dawg. "Dawgs don't have Warrens."

"Whutebber!" Mr Mouse called over frum his habbytat. "Warren, Pack, it's all dif'frunt werds forda same idea!"

"Shaddup, Mouse! I'm tellin' it!" Yelled Missy, pulling her feet back under her. And her ears were standing out at about right angels frum her head and I'm finkin' - No, don't get involved in dis... just let her get on wiffit...

So Missy selected pellet outta the Food Crock, and chewed on that for a minit, then settled down again and tucked her paws unner'neaf of her. 

"So, like, if the Worst Fing That Happins To You issat you fall down when you stand up," she continued. "And Dadda hasta take you around onna Morning and Evening Patrol around the Gardin, well, that's All Right then. Even if you can't shake, it's not as Bad as Good Friday. At least you're still Part Obba Pack, Part Obba Warren. You're not inna Shelter. You haven't been 'bandoned. You're not OnAlone."

"It's like Hunny said," I ventured. "He came back frum Saint-Luke's and told me, 'There is Allus an Egg.' which issa Message of Easter. And that is whut makes Easter The Bestest Day inna Whole Werld. Onna'count obba Fakt that's when alla the horrible fings ob Good Friday Broke Opin like a bird hatchin' outta an Egg innu a New Day. And that's Easter - the New Day outta the Egg."

And Mouse was, like, "George, whuttaheck are you on about? Whut do eggs have to do with ennyfing?"

And I was, like, "Lookit, you know how eggs are. They just sit there, looking all sorta round and everything, with nothing going on. And then, suddinly, Hunny said, just onna'count of nothing, a baby bird pecks it's way out. Hunny said you never know, that there's 'Allus an Egg' and inside of it, there's Hope, just waiting to come out - which is why there are Eggs at Easter.

"And it's also why there are Bunnies at Easter, too - and why Hunny allus went to Saint-Luke's in his baskit on Easter! Onna'count obba Fakt a hole-inna-ground can just be a hole or it can suddinly turn out to be the Entrance to a Warren full of bunnies. It's Metty-fours, Mouse. Like dat pikchur Auntie Carla took ob Our Cuzzin Norman wearin' Easter Bunny Ears..."

And Mouse was, like, "Lookit, I know whutta metty-four is. It's you coming down wiffa suddin case obb'em that's got me werried."

"That's the Whole Fing aboud Easter, Hunny said - You just nebber know!" I said. "It's about Hope-un-looked-for. Like nobunny knew on Good Friday that it would be followed by Easter Sunday - it was Just Anudder Day, until suddinly ev'rybunny waked up and there was Hope."

And Missy piped up, looking straight atta Dawg, "And that's the Whole Fing about you. If Whut's Happined issa Werst That's Happined, don't werry abouddit. You are still heer. We're still heer. Maman and Dadda and Phil are heer. Even the Catz - Cokie and Beep Uppystairs and KayCee, Toby, Munchkin, Lily and Ozzie Downnastairs - are all still heer. And so there is Hope. There issa Egg, as Hunny allus said."

And suddinly Dusty put his nose up, and axted, "Didn't George just tell us aboudda Eggs?"

And Missy was, like, "Shaddup, Dusty! This is aboudda Lore, not about who-said-whut-when! You are a YoungBun and you're sus'posed to Listen and Lern so you can Grow 'Tellygint, like George. Rabbits don't Grow Old, they Grow 'Tellygint, but only if they shaddup and bemember The Lore while it's being told to them." 

And she looked at me. 

Yeah, like I was gonna say ennyfing just about then.

Anna Dawg sighed.

Then he said, "Well, hokay. Then There is Allus an Egg. Dokter PeterBatts did say the ground would get back to Normal preddy soon and ev'ry day, fings do look a liddle bit bedda. And I kinda do like my Noo Job that Maman gave to me."

And Mouse nodded. "Yeah. Four hours of Law & Order yesterday. Fank you for watching me watch it."

"Yeah." Said the Dawg. "And you didn't fall offa sofa or ennyfing. I watched you the whole time, just like Maman said. And I also noticed that you didn't drop Wun RiceChex cereal, though, which I thought wassa liddle bit, well, you know, onna selfish side, seeing as how you hadda whole liddle bowl to yourself."

And Mouse was like, "Um, well, I got caught up studying Jack McCoy being a Prosecutor like Our Auntie Michelle Auletta and Judge Rudy Esquhare (Bless her) were in Sussex County, Noo Yawk. I want to pass my Salad Bar and be a genuine ADA, too!"

And the Dawg said, "Well, you know, like Hunny said, 'There is Allus an Egg.' Which is why I like that job of watching you watch Law & Order - because I live in Hope that wunna these days you're gonna drop Wunna Those RiceChex cereals onna floor, and then I'll more or less Be There, if you know Whut I Mean..."

And although I don't think that's quite the Message of Easter as it was told to me inna Lore by me,Hunny, SeniorBun of Our Warren, I can sorta see Whutta Dawg means...

Because There is Allus an Egg, just like Hunny said.

----------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 10:45 AM EDT

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Every year about This Time, I mention the good folks at Make Mine Chocolate.

Click on the button on the left and please visit their web-site! Support the message! Maybe even buy a tee-shirt or mug and help a bunny in need! But PLEASE, if you do nothing else, please read my story again this year and Help Spread the word - Bunnies Are Not For Easter!  

Because Every year, I tell The Story about How I Came To Live In Our Warren. It is part of Our Lore - and as me,Hunny said, The Lore is important, because knowing where we've been can help us to know where we're going.

And so, The Story is Important, because Every year, there are still poor baby bunnies who are taken away from their mothers, stuffed into boxes and crates, and then shipped in trucks to pet-shops all over the United States where the poor little dears are sold as fuzzy Easter Toys.

Except we are *not* cuddly Easter toys! We are living, breathing, feeling pets who are going - full of Hope and Ignorance - out into the World to become loving members of a family.

And these poor baby bunnies - all jammed into crates and shipped along on the backs of trucks, delievered to pet-shops everywhere, just in time for Easter - these baby bunnies, so soft and adorable - are Me.

I was just One of Millions, An Easter Bunny Nobunny Wanted; A Bunny-Inna-Box; Another Cast-off Easter Toy...one of the thousands, the sad and lonely thousands that wind up in shelters and along road-sides, abandoned in public parks and left of any-wheres, all because hoomins don't realise that Bunnies Are Not Toys For Easter.

I'm one of "Those" bunnies - the Impulse Purchase, the "Awwww, isn't-he-cute! Let's-buy-him! How-much-trouble-can-a-bunny-be?" pet-shop bunnies - that later on grows up and begins to chew on stuff, or begins to need a larger habitat, or continues to eat food, or out-grows the Fuzzy-Bunny-Stage... and suddenly, nobunny wants him any more.

And then it's What To Do With the Rabbit? Because the Easter Bunny that was so cute in the pet shop window isn't a "bunny" anymore, it's a "rabbit" and it's not a traditional "pet" like a cat or a dog - it's a pest and a bore and not socialised, because it behaves like a rabbit, not like a cat or a dog...

And it's gone from "Awwww" to "Get it out of here!"

Because "everybody" wanted it, and now "nobody" wants to be responsible for it. It's a chore and a nag. Usually no one even remembers its name, and it's become "The Rabbit" or "The Damned Rabbit" or just plain "It". On Easter Day it was was "Fuzzy" or "Snowflake" or "Bugs" and everyone swore it would go to see the v-e-t, but times are tough and there's no money for "stuff like that'.

Pretty soon, there's no money for "stuff" like "it", the totally depersonalised rabbit. But by then "it" is confined to a tiny cage in a garage, or in a basement, totally dependant for it's food on the whim of a child or scraps from the kitchen... and maybe there's water and maybe there's not, and there might be some hay and the remains of a litter-box and no one can understand why the rabbit isn't cuddly and cute, and all "it" does is sit, all alone, in it's tiny cage, in the dark.

And no one comes by, no one talks to you, and you are OnAlone, with nobunny for you to care about and nobunny to care for you.

It is the most Horrible Fate that can befall a housebunny.

But lucky for me, the people who bought me as a Easter Toy shoved me into a cardboard box and abandoned me in some veterinarian's waiting room. And the secretary there called Maman and said,

"Would you take another bunny? Someone abandoned him in our waiting room, and he's too cute to put to sleep."

Notice the words - "Too cute to be put to sleep."

Maman says what was meant was, "If he stays here, we'll have to kill him." Because there are too many bunnies and not nearly enough room for all of them.

So Maman came and got me. She says sometimes God just slaps you onna back of the head and although it's not your veterinarian, and even though there is only a very litte extra room at Our Warren, you know you have to go get the bunny.

And I remember when I arrived: me,Hunny was the Ancient Elder of His Kind, Poet was 12 years old and almost as old as Hunny. Belinda had cancer. Clover and Beebe-Bunny!! hadn't bonded yet, and MissyBun kept looking at me like I was some kinda Invader. Then Dadda gave me these green and long things he called "Salad" and I thought they were tryin' to poison me onna'count obba Fakt I'd never seen "Romaine" before and....

But the greedy breeders keep on forcing captive female bunnies into having more babies, and then they tear the babies away from their mothers to sell. And all over the country, souless hoomins are exploiting bunnies for profit - right at this very moment! - taking babies from their mothers, shoving them into crates and loading them on to trucks. And there are trucks cannoning down the highways with bunnies-in-the-back - tiny, fuzzy, baby bunnies - who are living on hope, because they have nothing else!

And those bunnies are bound for pet-shops everywhere. They'll be set up in windows for people to walk past and see and go "Awwww! Look at the bunny! Let's buy one! How much trouble can a bunny be?"

And come June,  July or August, and the shelters and parks and v-e-t's offices will be filled with rabbits. There will be listings in the papers, "Rabbit! Free to good home!" and no one will even care if the "new home" inclueds a hungry snake.

Because, you see, Easter is No Fun for a Real Bun!

The real meaning of Easter has to do with New Life and Salvation, not with sending babies to their deaths. Easter is about Hope and Faith, not about trafficking in lives and causing misery! 

So please, please - if you read this blog - remember to save a life this Easter and Make Yours Chocolate!

-------------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 8:05 AM EDT

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Hoppy Bunnaversary to Auntie Laura and Uncle Toby!

Yeah!

They have been bonded a long time, which is preddy much How Fings Are inna warren, and now they are habbin' the Vacayshun Obba Lifetime! Hooray for Uncle Toby and Auntie Laura! The Bestest Fings in Life are the fings that are shared, the plans and dreams made ober a lifetime! Alla Us Togedder heer at Our Warren wish Our Auntie and Uncle continued Joy!

And, well, this morning, Alla Us Togedder are waitin' for Noos Aboudda Noo Animal Shelter Heer in our Township. too. We wish it was bedda that Whut We Heard.

At first, The Trentonian, the local noospaper, said there was Good Noos, and there is finally munny (a hoomin fing) being set aside to build a Noo Animal Shelter to replace the Old Animal Shelter that the Old Township Council sold out frum under alla homeless dogs and cats by political sleight-of-hand. Yeah. That's whut happined, but Maman told me nobunny likes to talk aboudda Township Council the same way nobunny likes to talk aboudda disturbed-rellytib-inna-attic - it's just bestest to pretend that They Nebber Happined kinda-fing.

Ennyways, there was this noos article aboudda Noo Animal Shelter that is probably gonna be built inna Township for Homeless Critters, so I was like,

"Well, this issa good fing onna'count obba Fakt I was stuck inna cardboard box when nobunny wanted me ennymores and left inna v-e-t's office until Maman came and took me to Our Warren."

And Maman was like, "Maybe not-so-good, George."

And I was, like, "Why not?" 

And Maman read more obba article about the plans for the Noo Shelter - that it included room for "40 cats and up to 15 dogs ".

And I said, "Well, that's nice. Everything that is lost should have a temporary place to go that is clean and safe, that is run by kind, unnerstanding hoomins. And they should have access to veterinary care, and there should be adoption serivces for those pets whose owners do not deserve or want to care for them ennymore."

And Maman was like, "Yes. You're right."

And then I said, "But Whut I Wanna Know Is... Where is there going to be room for homeless rabbits?"

And Maman said, "Good question."

And then she told me aboudda whole, sad story ...

Years ago, atta old Township Animal Shelter, Maman went in and offered them a fifty-pound bag of Green Bag rabbit food, a couple of bags of Yesterday's News bunny-litter, habbytats, Litter-pans, water-and-food crocks and blankies to help provide shelter for three homeless HouseRabbits. She also took them information aboud Living With an Urban Rabbit and offered to help them provide for a section of the Shelter for Rabbits. 

The Shelter People looked at her and said - "Oh, we don't get rabbits." 

And Maman was very polite but she can axt questions, so she was, like,

"How come? House rabbits are the third most popular pet in the United States. Many rabbits are bought as Easter gifts and later turned loose or abandoned as Easter Dumps at shelters all over the United States. And as responsible, intelligent, compassionate and licensed Animal Control Officers and Shelter Representatives, you are well-educated in the fact that a domestic HouseRabbit has NO CHANCE of living outside, on it's own... and that many domestic rabbits are the victims of predation, cruelty and abuse... But you still 'don't get' rabbits at the Township Shelter?"

And the Shelter People stared at her with vacant eyes and refused her offer to donate indoor habitats, fifty pounds of rabbit food, litter, litter-pans, blankies and crocks.

Because, they said, again, "We don't get rabbits."

So now this Noo Shelter is being planned and funded, and here's the noospaper article about it, and there's still no mention of there being enny room in the Noo Shelter for Rabbits!

WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH THIS PICTURE?

Soon it will be Easter. And soon after Easter, there will be homeless rabbits. (Please, go HERE to learn more! I will be blogging about MMC in the futchur!) Shelters all over the United States are going to be full with bunnies who are no longer wanted as cuddly toys because they aren't toys - they are live creatures! And the rabbits that are not taken into care, surrendered to shelters are going to die, because  House Rabbits do not have basic survival skills. They will not be magically "adopted" by the local cotton-tail population, lemme tell you!

The rabbits that are thrown out OnAlone afta Easter are going to die - either of starvation, or neglect or of being killed by a dog, or though human cruelty, or merely because they were standing by the side of a road, hoping against hope that their hoomin would come back for them.

But the rabbits that get thrown out in Our Township will die frightened and alone because Ewing Township doesn't provide a single space - not even a donated space! - within their shelter for Rabbits.

Saint Francis wrote to the effect that "What you have tamed, you must be responsible for." in recognition obba Fakt that hoomins are Stewards, not owners of this Planet. So I'm axtin' Our Mayor, who issa good guy, to Please Make Room for Bunnies inna Noo Shelter. It doesn't have to be big. It doesn't have to be elaborate. It merely has To Be.

Yeah.

And there's help available for the Shelter to create BunRoom, along with Cat and Dog spaces.There are lotsa cat-people and dog-people who are also bunny-friends around the Township, and even if not alla them are loud and vocal and write letters and stand up and shout at meetings, they are willing to help homeless animals. Ewing is fulla Good People of Good Will who aren't part of enny "group" or affiliation, who are just happy being good without having to take credit or have their names on stuff. They want to help bunnies, kitties and dogs onna'count obba Fakt helping is Good. and Moral and Right.  

This issn't a "political decision", it is a humanitarian and ethical decision. The Shelter needs to be For the Animals, not for the hoomins to getta ego-boost.

 --------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:03 AM EDT

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Marc, the Border Collie says this is the MOST AMAZING VIDEO he's ever seen.

So Missy and I hadda look, and we agree. Then we showed it to Maman and Dadda and Maman said, "George, you have to put this on your blog for everyone to share!"

So I am. Go here. Just try it. You'll be glad I told you!

---------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:02 PM EDT

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Well, today Maman said to me that if pollyticks was turning out to be nothing more than Two Mean Gurls writing onna bafroom walls aboudda'nudder gurl in sumplace called "Washingroom DeeCee", then we might as well move to a Desert Island.

Yeah.

And then she sed to me that she knew how-come those "pun-ditz", Laura Ingraham and Anne Coulter and the like were writing alla that stuff about Megan McCain - you know, criticising the way she looks, and Whut She Says and alla that other juvenile behaviour in which they're indulging inna national press and onna tellyvision anna radio - well, Maman finks it is because those Mean Gurls are actually being paid to write that stuff by sum Myffical Third Pawtee! And that they are doing it to make the Republican Political Party look even more stoopit than it can do on its own.

Yup. That's it. The "pun-ditz" (whutebber that is!) are not genuine Republicans! They don't "speak" for ennybunny, hextcept mebbe for Snausages Dawg treats. They are being paid to write rubbishy opinions by sum udder political party and are only pretending to be "Conservative Republicans"

Maman says the great fing aboudda Theory like hers issat it's totally impossible to prove. (Whut qualities constitute "Republican" as modified by genuine as opposed to counterfit? See?).

At least that's what Maman is hoping is Troo - onna'count obba Fakt she rilly doesn't want to believe that anyone would take their Furst Ammendmint Rights so lightly that they fink this stuff is amusing.

Maman has no problem discussing pollyticks with udder hoomins. She says that everybunny has a right to an opinon, and it's hokay to discuss fings - rationally and with respect and civility alla'round - but Civility dictates that everybunny discuss Opinions, not the Person Who Holds the Opinions.

She says: Personal attacks are the last salvo of the defeated.

And that makes sense onna'count obba Fakt minds are changed by the rational demonstration of logic, not by Doing The Wrong Thing.  

Maman says she was never rewarded for doing the Wrong Thing. She's been punished for doing the Right Thing, and she's been punished when she's done Nothing at all - but she's never been rewarded for doing the Wrong Thing.

Well...

• Stealing 
• Being Greedy
• Being Envious

Are all Wrong Things in the measure The Warren, where bunnies werk Alla Us Togedder for the Good Obba Warren. We do not reward stuff that, inna long run, is gonna endanger Alla Us Togedder. That would be Plain Stoopit! But sumstimes, hoomins seem to reward whut bunnies would regard as "Neggytive Behaviours" or Wrong Thingsl Just this week inna Noospapers Maman and I have read and seen:

• A woman whose husband admitted he stole millions of dollars of munny, loudly proclaiming her "right" to retain control of the fruits of his fraud.
• A woman who gave birth to 14 children for whom she couldn't provide, admit she gave birth to them so they could assume the impossible task to "fill the void" within her, and that, although she doesn't hexpect ennybunny to materially provide for her children, she accepts gifts, sponsorships, handouts, tax-dollars, grants, donations, proposals, and... 
• Two faux-pale-haired females who write/speak in the style of ill-mannered, socially maladjusted school-girls about a third female (who doesn't share their views). These two faux-pale-haired females, furthermore, have the audacity to presume to speak/write as members of a national political party most of whose members they have never met, and whose views they cannot possibly hope (think of the sheer logistics!) to know.   

And alla these hoomins are being rewarded for doing the Wrong Things!

• The woman whose husband admits he indulged inna inelegant Confidence Swindle is there swanning about like royalty, flagrantly spending udder hoomins' munny (that's "Stealing")
• The emotionally vampiristic Octomom is showing off "her" house wiffa pond inna middle obba bafroom floor, cribs, cosmetics, and everyfing else she finks she wants/deserves and axting for more (which is "Being Greedy")
• While the two "pun-ditz"/"Conservative Reublicans" trash somebun who doesn't share their "views" because they say she isn't skinny enough or preddy enough to share their narrow views (which is "Being Envious") and they are taking sumbunny's munny to write/say such rubbish (which is probably sum form of "Stealing") and are Behaving Stoopitly, (which although it isn't listed as enny form of wrong-doing, probably should be!) alla'round the public media!

Do you know that inna Lagmorphic Society, each of these critters would be marginalised? Yeah, onna'count obba fakt Stealing, Being Greedy, and Being Envious are considered Not Behaving For The Good Obba Warren. And We Can't be Habbin' With That!

So ennyways...

Afta reading a liddle more, Maman tured away frumma 'puter and said to me,

"Do you know whut? I hate pollyticks. And I can't stand peroxide-breathing, pet-skinning, pseudo-intellectual cocktailistas who wrestle naked in the ethical gutter - no mind, no morals, no manners. However if these are the quality of people 'The People' are watching, then 'The People' are watching entirely the wrong people...and we really need to move to that Desert Island, George!"

And here I thought we were moovin' to Western Pennsylvania, or mebbe Uppystate Noo Yawk...

------------------------------------ By George

Posted by Our Warren at 2:28 PM EDT

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Maman and I read noospapers onna 'puter very early every morning, and we read Noos frum Inkland, furst, onna'count obba Fakt they wake up before we do.

And Maman is very fond of reading Theatre Noos because a Very Long Time Ago that wassa big part of her life and she bemembers the Good Parts and likes to tell us abouddit because that is part of her Lore that makes her Who She Is. Sumtimes it's innerestin', but usually, I just sleep through this part obba Sunday Morning reading onna'count obba Fakt bunnies don't go toda "Theatre", but today sumfing caught my 'tenshun that makes me fink I might wanna go and see.

There issa noo play that is opening some place called "The West End". Maman says this is in London, which is in Inkland, where alotta rilly good (which means "profitable" Maman says) shows seem to come frum. This show is called "War Horse" and Maman told me she finks this is going to be the Nextest Big Thing to come to Broadway in Noo Yawk, or it Should Be.

Because the actual star of "War Horse" issa horse named Joey.

Well, Maman said, actually the show issn't a real show like everybunny is used to onna'stage, it's a puppet show. 

And that makes "War Horse" and especially the star, Joey pretty unique. 

Maman said that Joey would pretty much have to be a puppet, or sumfing, because while there are real horses who are actors in films and such, most critters don't like being onna reg'lar stage for enny extended period of time onna'count obba hot lights, cramped spaces, overwhelming tension and weird smells. Maman says add in loud noises coming frumma "orchestra pit" and most four-foots (and menny two-foots) just lose their minds. She said "Reality is only ever relative inna theatre atta best of times."

And then she told me about sum "rilly negative hext'speriences" she had with horses and udder critters on-stage, 'specially every time she managed to be ennywhere near sum production called "I.E.Da" by a guy named "Joe Green" She said to me,

"Face it, when twelve hundred pounds of someone isn't happy, and they express this unhappiness inna very physical and perfectly authentic animalistic modality on-stage, there is no happiness for anyone connected with the production."  

Which I sus'pose is troo.

So in order to tell the story of Joey in "War Horse" the guys that imagined it assa show saw it a puppetshow. And Maman says that Joey's story is extryordinary, so extryordinary that a extryordinary way hadda be imagined to tell it. Because Joey, the horse, got caught up inna terrible stoopit tragedy hoomins call World War One.

And Maman told me that most hoomins had fortygetted World War One, that it was mostly a Historian's War, in that the only ones innerested in knowing abouddit were Historians. But reg'lar hoomins shouldn't fortyget it.

And I was like, "Well, bemembering the Lore is allus important. That's whut Hunny told me when he passed the Lore on to me when I wassa Youngbun. He said, 'You are too young to know, but I am too much obba Senior Bun not to tell you'. And so he did and that's how-come I get to hang on toda Lore and tell abouddit."

And Maman nodded and said that World War One was 'portant because it wassa Furst-and-Last War. It was the Furst conflict to involve almost everybunny, everywheres and it wassa Furst  hoomin conflict to employ huge technological advancements, like airplanes, automatic weapons, tanks, communications, internal combustion engines and bio-chemical warfare to the detriment of Society and the Environment - and it was the Last hoomin conflict to be fought the way wars had always been fought before, face-to-face, person-to-person. It was the line where the Past met the Future - one of the few places where the edges of History gets stitched togedder and alla seams show - and where if you turn one way, you can look back to see What Was and if you turn the other, you can see forward to What Will Be with terrible certainty.

And Maman said that horses stood on this dividing line, looking backwards and looking forwards, and still Followed Their Hoomins. They didn't take enny "sides" inna political dispute, and they didn't choose who was "right" frum "wrong". They followed and they loved and the "sides" didn't matter.

And I was, like, "Well, of course not. Whut Concerns Us issa Warren, or the Herd, or the Pack, or the Chowder - the welfare of Alla Us Togedder."

And Maman nodded and said that World War Too was unlike World War One. World War Too was alla'bout Alla Us Togedder, anna clear battle of "Good-against-Evil"; that the names "Auschwitz" and "Majdanek" remain forever as testimony to the reality of Evil at work inna werld. But World War One, she said, was about ideas and abstractions and that critters just followed their hoomins, and loved them and trusted them and then ran uppa'gainst the technology of a Future that nobunny even suspeckted existed, and so they were all betrayed.

And I was, like, "Whoa."

And I sat onna futon and I hadda short fink abouddit and then I axted Maman, "So sumbunny has put alla those ideas onna stage with puppets?"

And Maman said, "Well, apparently. Look, read the review here in today's Times Online. It tells all about it."  

So I looked up at her and axted, "Issat The Noo Yawk Times?"

And Maman looked at me and blinked, and she's, like, "George, there is only One 'Times' and that's the Times of London. All other 'Times' are imposters. Ask your Dadda and he'll tell you the same."

So, when Maman gets that tone in her voice, I figgered I wouldn't push the matter, lemme tell you!  

But I do fink I would like to go and see the story of Joey, the War Horse who stood onna seams of history. And I think I would like to go and see puppets, even though I am not too sure Whut They Do or how They Do It.

Onna'count obba Fakt that it seems to me, that even though World War One is not part of Our Lore and even though Joey the War Horse was never part of Our Warren, his story is still important to be Bemembered Here at Our Warren. Everybun's Lore touches everybunny else's Lore at one point or anudder. We are all part of Alla Us Togedder, so that What Touches Wun, eventually touches All sumwhere along the seams. So mebbe it only appears that alla different Lores are all seperate frum each udder, differing by kind. I do not believe that they differ so much in importance, because like Hunny told me,

"Unless we know where we've been, how can we know where we're going?"

So I fink I want to know more about War Horse.

----------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:55 AM EDT

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So this morning, I was sitting onna Futon in Maman's Study and Missy was walking around the edges obba room, making sure alla Our Hext'scape Routes were clear of Vines And Rocks...

Now Maman says there are no Vines and Rocks in her Study, that alla things that Missy says are Vines are "rilly" 'Puter Power Cabulls and 'Lektrick Lines, and alla fings Missy calls Rocks are "rilly" Buks...

But Missy says alla that's Not Troo! And even if it Was Troo - which it issn't - Missy would still have to clear alla that stuff outta the way fromma sides obba room along the walls, onna'count obba Fakt wunna The Most Important Rools for Living Inna Unnerground Warren is that you Have To Keep Alla Tunnels and Hext'scape Routes Clear of Things You Might Fall Over Inna'Mergency! Because when you are running for your life, you can't take the time to worry about fings that might make you trip and fall over - so it is Important for Wun Bunny to Always Make Sure that alla Hext-scape Routes, alla'round enny room or burrow, are clean and clear!  

Which was Whut Missy Was Doing This Morning.

And I was sitting onna futon, keeping an eye on Our Terrytory and helping Maman read the Morning Noospapers - which is Whut I Do.

So along comes Cokie-the-Fat-Cat. And he's been in Dadda's Office nextest door with Beep-the-Udder-Cat (even though Dadda is off werking At Werk), not doing ennyfing, which is Pretty Much Whut Catz Do Alla Time, Ennyways. They are famous for their abilities in that departmint.

So Cokie sits down nextest to Maman's chair and starts to chirp.

And Maman says (in her "Lookit-the-cute-kitty" voice), "So whuttsamatta with Maman's baby-cat?"

Which issa rilly dumb fing to say to 39 lbs. of lazy, smelly Maine Coon male cat, but there-you-are. Maman says its important to love everybun just-as-they-are, inklooding catz. Sumtimes, though, it goes a bit better if you squint your eyes, close your nostrils and fold your ears down tight.

And Cokie starts purring, because that's been part of his Cute since Dadda called him a "Fat Furry-Purry" and Maman thought that wassa "Cutest fing she'd every heard!" (so you know she doesn't get out much).

So Maman says to Cokie, "Is something the matter?"

And Missy stops shuffling along the walls long enough to wrinkle up her nose and call over, "Yeah. The cat stinks! Can't you give him a baf or send him to Da Spa or sumfing?"

And Cokie looks up at Maman and goes, "Yerowlp"

Just like that.

Well, Maman doesn't speak "Feline." Few people do and Maman isn't wun of them. So she leans over and hassa look atta Kitty Chow Area (which issa nice orange tray with three bowls onnit - and I do mean that tray is orange! Onna rose-coloured oriental rug, there is no way you can miss this tray! It sticks out like a pootie inna pancake.)

And Maman says, "Well, there's food in your bowl, Cokie."

And Cokie looks up at her with great big, wide eyes and says, "Yerowlp!" again, wif feeling.

And Maman's puzzled, so she looks at me.

Well, I don't speak Feline, either and I make a habit obbit it.

And over beside the buk-case, Missy lifts up her head again, looks towards Maman and shouts,

"Hey! Can't you smell him? It's like hare-pollution over here!"

And Maman leans over further and then looks down at Cokie and says, "Well, you've got water, too, so what's your problem, Puddy?"

And Cokie goes, "Yerlowp!"

Only more urgently - which I assume changes the goalposts in Feline.

So Maman gets up outta her chair and she says to the Cat,

"Well, show me."

So Cokie (who knows preddy good Inkwish, although he doesn't admit it) shambles off with his tail straight up like a directional plume, and Maman follows him innu Dadda's Office. And I hop down offa futon and follow along, because wherever Maman goes, there might be Treats invovled - and Missy flollows along because Missy never misses any chance there even might the be the fainest chance obba Treat..

So the kitty-Maman-houzrabbit parade comes to a halt in Dadda's Office where there's a window, then Dadda's futon (with Beep-the-Udder-Cat reclining onna back obbit) and then the BunPen that has been set up onna floor, just in front obba futon.

And there's this great, big, wide swatch of SunShine, beaming inna window, flowing down over Dadda's futon (with Beep reclining onna back obbit) and that just about fills the whole BunPen with bright sunbeams, so that there's just a thin sliver of it spilling out onna carpet nextest to the BunPen.

And Coke sorta collapses innu the sliver of SunShine that's spilled outta the BunPen on to the carpet and lies there with his paws up inna air, and looks at Maman uppyside-down and says,

"Yerlowp?"

Which I take to mean, "See? Look! There's this whole great, big, wide swath of SunShine just pouring in through the window over there, and I don't fit up onna back obba futon where Beep is soaking up a lotta it (mainly because I'm too fat and will fall off) - and I can't get innu the BunPen to grab enny of what's filling up that (because there is no door), so all I can find to sit in is this tiny sliver of SunShine that doesn't even cover a third of my body! This is NOT FAIR! You're a hoomin! Fix it so I can have an Entire SunBeam! DO SOMETHING, WILL YA?"

And Maman, being Maman, is standing there in her bafrobe, and she looks atta Cokie-Cat, and she says, "So whuttawant me to do? I can't make you any skinnier!"

And Cokie kind of rolls over (which is kinda like watching cranberry sauce roll around outta the can), digs in his paws and pushes against the BunPen, and it like moves a couple of inches backward, till it smooshes against the wall. 

And Missy's behind me and she's like, "Oh no! I can't be habbin' wif dat! I can't move it! That's an obstacle and it can't stay there! No. No Way!" 

And Maman looks at Cokie and says, "And that's what you called me out here for - to move the BunPen for you so you could have a SunBeam?"

And Cokie says, "Yerowlp!" again, which is kind of what he said the Furst Time, when Maman didn't unnerstand him, either.

And Maman shakes her head and leads the parade back innu her Study. And Cokie hastily turns himself upright and scrambles afta us.

So Maman goes back to sitting in her chair and I axt to be lifted up to sit onna futon again (And Maman's like, "Why didn't you axt me before I sat down? Other rabbits hop, George. Why am I picking you up and setting you on the futon? Tell me - why?" And I'm finking, "Because of bunny-mind-control, but I'm not gonna tell you that, am I?") 

So Cokie sits down in front of Maman again and goes, "Yerlowp?"

And Maman says, "No. I can't move the BunPen. It's too heavy. If you can't fit into any of the sunbeams up here, there are the same sunbeams coming into the LivingRoom  downstairs - unless the Dawg is occupying all of them. Go down there, have a look and see if you can work something out with him. Otherwise, wait until your Father gets home and complain to him."

So Cokie-da-Fat-Cat heaved a Huge Sigh of Feline Resignation (there is none other like it, as everybun knows) and stumped off back innu Dadda's Office. Then a liddle later on, I heard him headed downnastairs, so I guess he was gonna go see iffa Dawg would ne-go-sheate with him over a patch of sunbeams inna Living Room or sumplace. 

I dunno how that went. I was too busy reading the noos with Maman. 

At least I know my and Missy's sunbeams are safe. They come to Our Habitat right about Aftanoon, and Cokie issn't allowed inna BunRoom onna'count obba Fakt da Dawg has this Rool about "No Catz Inna Bun Room!" and you know how Border Collies are about "rools"...

Yeah!

----------------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 5:06 PM EDT

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Hey! I'm waving to alla our Noo Inkland Cousins at Furkids Flats!

Wow! You know, Alla Us Togedder have never been to Noo Inkland, but just last nite Maman was talking aboud that place while she, Dadda and Phil were all inna Dining Room, Having Dinner.

Mebbe I shuld hextplain that the Dining Room is not far away frumma Kitchen, which issa room next toda BunRoom, and almost every single night, Maman, Dadda and Phil all pull uppa chairs around the big table inna Dining Room and eat food there. It's like habbin' crocks, just all in one place, around a table. Dadda calls it "Tea" and Maman and Phil call it "Dinner", although sumtimes when he's piling it innu plates, Phil just shouts out "FOOD!", so mebbe that's Whut It's Called. And mostly, Maman cooks alla food, but sumtimes it's Dadda or Phil that cooks, and then again, once inna while, the doorbell rings, da Dawg goes nutz and then a pizza turns up, so you just nebber know hextcept whutebber it is, the Three of Them sit around the table and eat Togedder like inna Warren.

Which makes them a liddle bit like Alla Us Togedder. 

But eating a cooked meal alla'round a table issa hoomin fing, although da Dawg says it can become a dawg-fing if He Gets Lucky and sumbunny leaves sumfing on their plates. Dadda says that iffa Dawg hassit, then it's not "wasting good food" onna'count obba Fakt the food is going innu the Dawg.

Cokie the Fat-Cat says the eating-a-cooked-meal-alla'round-a-table can also turn innu a Cat-fing if there is chikin involved. And if Cokie smells chikin, he comes tumblin' downnastairs frum his 'Partmint so that he can soopervise and bemind ebberybun that there issa Starvin' Giant-sized Cat inna Houz. Dadda says he gets sik ob playin' "Whack-a-mole" ober chikin nuggets and wunna these days he's gonna bemember to stuff a certin fat-cat inna closet till Tea is ober - but as usual, Dadda is just talkin' - even if he did stuff Cokie-inna-closet, Maman would just feel sorry for Cokie and let him out. And probably give him a chikin nugget just onna'count obba Fakt he got innu a closet inna Furst Place.

We bunnies usually get in onna preppyrashuns onna'count obba Fakt Maman gives us a share obba veggytubbles-due-joor bifore she cooks them. The bestest times are during hollydays when we can score strange and innerestin' froots and stuff, although sumtimes hollydays can become a lottery, too, like when Missy and I each gotta slice ob this stuff called "can't elope" - which wassa real slice ob "mystery froot", lemme tell you!

So Lastest Night there was Leek-and-Tattie Soup, and Cokie anna Dawg bof got their Bites o' Chikin (but we didn't get enny leeks, which wassa preddy good fing onna'count obba Fakt, Wow! Did they ebber stink! Yeah. We all turned them down when Maman offered them, but if you wanna stinky veggytubble, then leeks are for you. The Houz smelled ob them for hours afta the whole dinner-biznizz was over and still stinks this morning. Yuck!). So we each hadda Baby Organic Carrot, instead. 

Ennyways...

Lastest night there was Leek-and-Tattie Soup, which Maman says is dead easy to make, and Phil brought up the whole Moovin' Ishoo again. Right atta momint, we are Not Moovin', Maman says, onna'count obba "Mawkit tankin'" (whutebber that means!) and Dadda says he is "Questionin' the wizdum" of Western Pennsylvania "all-togedder" (whutebber that means!) and Phil says, "Well, you know, there are udder places inna werld, like Noo Inkland."

And Maman was like, "Where have you ebber been in Noo Inkland?"

And Phil was like, "Well, our Cuzzins' Houz in Con-net-ticket, for wun thing. That was pretty nice, especially the way Jack did that pool and the gardens and everything. And Bim (that is Maman's Dadda, Phil's Granddadda) took me to The Manse in Newport where he lived in Rhode Island and over to what's-his-name's - his friend's house, and then we called on some old lady he knew from when he was a kid and that was great."  

And Maman sed there wassa whole lot more to Noo Inkland than up-mawkit beds-and-brekfasts and "Marble Palaces". Then she said that Nooport was ruined by the Bridge that replaced the Fairy, and a lotta good stuff had changed there since she wassa liddle gurl, growing up (which was long bifore Phil!). She sed she bemembered the lastest time she was in Nooport - that she was sixteen years old anna Eagle was there, riding at anchor inna middle ob Narryganset Bay onna bloo wadder like a great white bird-ob-prey. And she and her friend (who wassa daughter of Bim's friend) figgered out how they could put on rilly pretty dresses, comb out their rilly long hair and ride back-and-forth across the Bay onna Fairy for the whole Summer aftanoon and wave to the "cadets" in uniforms who were all onna Eagle...

And alla sudden, Phil piped up and hextclaimed, "Oh my Gawd, Ma! Don't tell me you actually talked to one of those cadets!"

And Maman was, like, "Yes I did. We ran innu two of them aftawards while we were shopping on Thames Street. They were officer-cadets..."

And Phil kinda gasped and then we heard him moan, "Oh Ma! No! I can't believe you stooped so low!"

And Maman said, "Lookit, The Eagle is a beautiful, historic Tall Ship, Phil, and she's a training vessel..."

And Phil finished for her, "Yeah, I know. But she's not Navy. She's Coast Guard, Ma! I can't believe it! You almost went out with one of the Ladies of the Coast Guard! Oh my Gawd. Wait. I need another drink."

And he came out innu the BunRoom, opined the Salad Bank and poured himself anudder glass ob milk. And afta he put away the milk-jug, he bent down, opined Mr Mouse's habbytat and peered inside.

And Mouse swung his head around and grunted at him, like, "Don't you dare pull my tail, buster!"

And Phil said, "Mouse, you don't know how lucky we are!"

And Mouse gave him the suspicious ear-twitch (because you can nebber tell when Phil is gonna hab you on) and he was like, "Whut?"

And Phil said, "We could have been Coast Guard!"

Then he closed Mouse's habbytat, stood up and said so Maman and Dadda could hear him inna Dining Room, "So moovin' to Rhode Island is out. How about Con-net-ticket?"

------------------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 10:30 AM EST

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Well, hokay, guess I got told.

Dis morning MissyBun came up to me and said, "Lookit, George. I can't be habbin' wif dis."

And I look around, notice I'm not doing ennyfing in particular hexcept eating a few Green Bag pellets, and so I'm, like, "Can't be habbin wif whut?"

And she plants herself in frunt of me with her ears standing out horryzonally frum her head and she's, like, "Wif you not typin The Hay Diaries. You're lettin' Belinda's whole blog go away and her blog wassa Berry Furst Blog by a HouzRabbit onna whole Innernet, ever. And she left it to you and you're lettin' her down and I can't be habbin' wif dat onna'count obba Fakt she wouldn't be habbin' wiffit!"

So I had sum hay and hadda Fink and - wouldn't you know it? - Missy was more or less right (although axtchually "telling" her that she is Right is just gonna cause more trubble than it's worf, so I'm not gonna say ennyfing except here where she might not read it, but then again, she might - you nebber know...)

But Missy was Right, and I have been letting Belinda down, and Belinda wassa Furst Bunny to welcome me innu Our Warren when I wassa Very Small White Bunny, all OnAlone inna cardboard box onna'count obba Fakt I wassa Easter Dump. And I can't let criticism frumma bad-tempered drunk and betrayal by a so-called "friend" to hurt my feelings so that I let down my bestbeloved Belinda and stop typin' in her blog, you know? 

"When pooties stink, you kick them outta the litterbox and start bugging Dadda for a cleanout." Missy says, and then she does *footflicks* and stuff just flies ebberywheres.

She hassa way of getting stuff done when she wants it.

 Which issa lot like KayCee Kitty, who is the Empress of Phil's Chowder ob Five that moved in with him afta he hurt his knee rilly, rilly bad again.

Now, inna Beginning, KayCee came frum wunna those PetSmart Rescue Days and that was when Phil was twelve years old. He's twenty-five now, so you can figger out how old she is, onna'count obba Fakt she is Sensative About Her Age. Let's just say that I don't bemember back that far onna'count obba Fakt I wasn't born when KayCee arrived in Our Warren. That was sort of around the same time as me,Hunny and Heatherington and Maggie were the onliest bunnies inna Warren, inna Very Beginning.

Hokay. I have not told you how old KayCee is. 

Ennyways...

Just lately, KayCee has taken to sitting atta top obba stairs to Phil's place and she has taken to calling, just like she did when Phil went away innu the Navy. And she hassa very loud call. Very what-you'd-call a persist-ant call, too, in that she can keep up callin' "Philowl! Philowl! Philowl!" for like an hour or more atta time. Yeah! Whereas when Phil was inna Navy, she would just call for, like, a half-an-hour and then gave it up and crawl innu bed wif Maman and go to sleep. Now she just wants to call and call and call!

And it's driving ebberybun nutz. 

For no reason at all she just sits atta top obba stairs and calls out, "Philowl! Philowl! Philowl!" for, like, ebber and nobunny can figger out Whut She Wants.

Because Phil is not inna Navy ennymore. Maman says he issa Vet and we all know that's a bad werd, but apparently not if you are Phil. He doesn't stick needles in you, and he doesn't talk about "taking temperatures" and he doesn't pull your lips up to look in your mouth. These are all good things points (he does occasionally pull your tail and say, "Bunny butt!" which rilly makes Mr Mouse angry, but that's about it for being 'nnoying. Now udder "vets" where you go for those "Well-Bunny Check-Ups" - yeah, now we're talkin' needles-inna-butt, anna whole nine-yards ob humillyashun-inna-name-ob-"Its-good-fer-you", which issa crock if I ebber heard wun, but...).

So  KayCee sits onna stairs and is yeowling, "Philowl! Philowl! Philowl!" and so Maman calls to her and says fings like, "Whuttsamatta wif my poor liddle KayCee Kitty-cat?"

And KayCee will shut up for a minit, and then she'll start again wif, "Philowl! Philowl!" and that will go on, until Da Dawg goes over to the door and lies down with his nose pressed up against it. And then Dadda says to Maman,

"Lookit, da Dawg is getting 'd-mail'!" and he'll laugh, but KayCee will go on yellin', "Philowl! Philowl! Philowl!"

And then Maman opins the door and KayCee parades uppystairs wif her tail waving like a flag, but she still doesn't shut up. She goes innu ebbery single room calling out, "Philowl! Philowl! Philowl!" even while she's parading right past Phil!

And you can tell Phil's embarassed by her onna'count obba Fakt he scoops her up and axts her, "Whuttsamatter wif my gurl, huh?" and then tells Maman, "You give in too easy, Ma. There's nothing wrong with her. She just wants to be up here so she can own it."

And Maman grumbles to us, "Easy for him to say! Poor kitty-child wants to live as nicely as the bunnies."

And we're, like, "That is not a 'poor kitty' at all! That issa spoilt princess priss that wants to eat our hay!"

But you know, I don't fink it's ebben the hay that innerests KayCee (although she does come in and eat it, and then she goes to lie onna sofa where Mouse watches "Law  Order" with Maman!).

Nope.

Know whut I fink? I fink alla dat calling "Philowl! Philowl!" issa lot like Missy's quoting Belinda's "I can't be habbin wif dis!" and making her ears stand out horryzonally frum her head. It is to Get Whut She Wants.

Yeah. It's Whut Gurls Do. 

Onna'count obba Fakt KayCee and Missy are both Gurls and they both hab figgered out that it issa lot easier forda rest ob us to give in and just Do Whut They Want than it is to Sit Around and Try To Guess Why they are doing Whut They Are Doing. And they can keep up Doing Whut They Are Doing a lot longer than most ob us can Sit Around and Wonder.

Lemme tell you.

So when Missy says, "I can't be habbin wif dis..." no matter whut "dis" happins to be that she can't be habbin' wif, I make sure I fix it, right away. Onna'count obba Fakt, I can't be habbin wif Missy not habbin' wif sumfing!

----------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 1:51 PM EST

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Maman says it's 12th Night and alla Christmas Dekerashuns have to come down.

Yeah! And even before I've learned how to spell "Dekerashuns", Christmas is over for anudder year.

I don't like Christmas being over Just-Like-That. It should go on longer, I fink. Missybun says I must be having Flashbacks to being Lewis Carroll's big, white bunny-with-a-pocketwatch frum Alice Through the Looking-glass who lives in a world that has "Victorian" Christmases. Missy says that those kind of "Victorian" Christmases go on and on, particuarly in Royal Dalton-looking Villages that have Muppets singing Christmas Carols. But Muppets manage to make even "Victorian" misery look picturesque and appealling.

Maybe that's the whole Trubble with remembering Charles Dickens' stories at Christmastime. We tend to remember the lesson of A Christmas Carol but soften that lesson up a lot and take away its application to This Time by sprucing up Charles Dickens' London to include hum'rus iceskating penguins and cheeky pen-pushing mice. All the very real and scary dirt and disease gets swept out of "Victorian" times to be replaced with "picturesque" squalour. Now, Genuine sqalour isn't very "picturesque" when it's read through Dickens' werds, but that's how it comes out on films and in pictures and stuff, and how it lives on in hoomins' memories. Films and such make "Victorian" squalour look surperior and romantic compared to the real kind of squalour found in shelters, refugee camps and slums seen just-about-anywhere in The-Werld-As-It-Is.

Mebbe that's onna'count obba Fakt Dickens' "Victorian" squalour lacks plastic. You never see enny discarded plastic food-containers floating around in puddles, or see enny plastic bags floating on the breeze or plastered innu corners like you do in real-life. Mebbe it's the lack of plastic that makes being poverty-stricken in Dickens' "Victorian" Christmas so much nicer. It kind of makes you wonder if poverty inna Werld-As-It-Is would be less grim if there was less plastic around. (A fing to ponder.)

Since HouzRabbits don't go out much, we only know Whut We See, either frumma window, frumma seat inna car onna way to the v-e-t's, or frum watching tellyvision. Or frum hearing stories.

Our Maman reads stories, like A Christmas Carol ev'ry year because it's a Tradition at Our Warren. She used to read the story to Sistah Beffy and Phil-the-Lad when they were little hoomin kidlets, but then they growed up and she has nobunny left to whom to read, hexcept Alla Us Togedder. There might have been Baby Anya, but Sistah Beffy left the Warren and took her away with her and nobunny has heard ennyfing except rumours of betrayal and official inquiries regarding untruths frum her in over a year.

Yeah. I know - its very sad and Maman refuses to talk about it, but sumtimes sumbunny has to let loose the Truth - even though everyone knows that a lie can travel seven times around the world before the Truth can even get it's boots on (as Terry Prachett says). And the truth is this: Sister Beffy took Baby Anya and left. No reason why. She left. Tthen she phoned up Maman and screamed at her that she was "no longer part of her family". No reason for that, either. So Maman lost a daughter and doesn't even know how or why. Daughter's choice. Oh well. In a warren, anyone is free to leave - but not to tell vicious lies as an excuse. 

So if you ever see Anya, please set her straight - that old woman she's been told is her "grandmother" is no relation to her, and that old man is not her grandfather. They are nothing to her - just some people who perpetuate her mother's lies (there is proof of their lies for anyone to see. It's called a "birth certificate"). Anya's biological grandfather died before she was born and her genuine grandmother is alive (never mind what's been said  - Maman isn't dead and she never left) and Maman still cares about Anya very much. Phil cares about Anya very much, too - but Anya will never know that because the people she is with will only ever tell her lies to suit their own selfish and dishonest purposes.

So Maman read the Traditional Christmas Stories to herself inna Sitting Room when nobunny was around, hextcepting us. Maman said that keeping Traditions, even when there is nobunny to see is how to keep Faith alive. It is in the doing, not in somebunny seeing you do it.

And that is why we are celebrating 12th Night by taking down alla Christmas things. Maman said that if we kept them up all year, they would cease to be 'Peshul and soon become Common. We would get too used to seeing the Tree sitting proudly inna Living Room with alla Family Ornaments hanging frum the branches.

So Maman is going to take alla ornaments off the tree and put them away in 'Peshul boxes, so that she can take them all out Nextest Year and tell alla stories about each one of them as it gets hung up onna tree. She says telling the story of each ornament is how to keep the Family History alive, through Tradition. Phil complains that ev'ry year, Maman tells him the same stories and Maman says, "How else am I gonna get the stories drummed innu your head so you can tell them after I am gone?" and she beminded him that his Grandfather used to decorate the Christmas Tree and tell alla stories to her.

One day, it will be Phil's job to tell the stories to sumbunny else.

And the stories stretch alla way back to the "Victorian" Christmases Dickens writes about in his stories. But there are no cheeky mice or ice-skating penguins in the stories that Maman tells about the Christmas tree ornaments. There are three tree ornaments that Maman has frum "Victorian" times. They are fragile things, thin-as-paper glass tree-decorations, so translucent that you can see the dust of their paint trapped inside. They came frum Germany as gifts to Maman's Mom-mom frum her Great-Aunt Lizzie who'd been given them by her Cousin Little Charlie who came frum Germany so he didn't have to be inna Army there. He brought the tree ornaments with him when he arrived inna place called "Balt'more" and he gave them to Aunt Lizzie when went to live at her house in Chester when she was a young bride, around 1890.

And Maman's grandmother, whom she called "Mom-mom" gave the three ornaments to her daughter, Margaret, who gave them to her niece, who is Maman. And Maman will someday pass them on ("God willing" Maman allus says) to Phil, who, she hopes, will pass them on to his kidlets ("God willing" Maman allus adds), along with the story.

And those are the kinds of stories that Maman says are Tradition and that need to be remembered - how people came here seeking peace, and brought gifts with them in honour of the Christ Child entering the Hoomin Werld.

Of course, we bunnies know about the coming of the Christ-Child and how gifts came to be given In His Honour. There were animals there inna stable and we tell our Ownliest Stories about That Night and about 12th Night, too. Just because a story is not told in Hoomin books doesn't mean it is not a story told Sumwhere Else. 

There is Hoomin Lore and there is udder Lore as well. Hoomins are not the only witnesses to "history" - those Magi that spoke to King Herod came riding upon camels, and were followed by patient little donkeys carrying loads of stuff. The critters who were in That Stable That Night were still there later on, and alla Flocks were still grazing in their fields with their shepherds keeping watch (and a dawg or two) even afta the angels and archangels had stopped singing and departed with Alla Heavenly Host frum the skies.

Hoomins tend to fortyget what doesn't concern them directly. Those camels knew where they'd been; they knew who was on their backs, where they were accustomed to having food, where they'd arrived and what made their destination dif'frunt from udder trips they'd been on. Camels are not stoopit, just not rilly agreeable to most hoomins. But if you axt them, they will tell you their Lore.

And so camels know about 12th Night, too. And they have very little to say about "kings" but quite a bit to say about relative squalour, generalised poverty and the over-all selfishness of adult hoomins, lemme tell you!

So now it is 12th Night and this is the End of Christmas for anudder year. And so we will put away the Dekerashuns anna tree, and alla Traditions anna Lore and save it all for Nextest Year. I will still miss it. I like alla stories and, like Maman, I don't get tired of them. Mebbe that's onna'count obba Fakt that I bemember so menny that there's no time to tell ev'ry single wunna them over Just-One-Christmas. There are just so menny wunnerful stories to tell! So menny Traditions to keep and so much Lore to be shared.

So mebbe I rilly amma kinda "Holiday Bunny" as Maman told me earlier. Even though I arrived assa "Easter Dump" and maybe shouldn't like holidays onna'count obba Fakt it wassa holiday that caused me to be bought and then 'bandoned atta v-e-t's inna cardboard box, I still rilly like to celebrate All the holidays. Mebbe I like holidays precisely because a holiday played a Big Part in my being rescued and becoming part of Our Warren. 

Yeah! There is allus an "up" side to ev'ryfing.

But I feel that there is just sumfing about holidays - holy days - and mebbe it is that there is allus a sense throughout holidays that trandsends Time. It stretches back and forth like a length of spider's silk, anchoring the Past to the Present and connecting it to the Future. And I like all that connecting stuff, being able to touch those barely-visible threads and hear them vibrating softly with voices clearly heard - for those who will listen...

--------------------------------------------  By George

Posted by Our Warren at 9:12 AM EST

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Well, Maman waked up around three o'clock inna morning when Alla Us Togedder were alreddy awake.

And she didn't look so good, lemme tell you!

Yeah, well, she didn't but Missy says I'm not s'sposed to say. I told her I believe in Journalistic Integrity but Missy said there's Journalistic Integrity and then there's your Basic Stoopit and if I want to werk my way through this whole Baby Organic Carrot, I won't go indulging in the latter.

Ennyways...

Maman got up at three, then again at four (and at four, Dadda was sitting atta Dining Room table eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal that he wasn't sharing) and her head was alreddy hurting her.

She told Dadda that she wanted her left eye taken out, but I don't fink she meant it. When she's getting wunna those "mygraines" it allus begins in her left eyeball. So she took some meddysin and by then Da Dawg woke up enough to decide he needed to do a Dawn Patrol, so Maman let him outta Back Door into the Gardin.

And because wunna her meddysins has to be kept inna Salad Bank, she got us out sum Baby Organic Carrots because she said it was Not Fair for Dadda to have cereal Right In Frunt of us without offering ennyfing to The Bunnies. And because she gave us Baby Organic Carrots for a treat, she had to give Da Dawg a Milk-Bone Dawg Biscuit when he came in, and then told Dadda that she felt guilty onna'count obba Fakt she felt too badly to go Uppystairs to give The Catz a treat, too. Maman rilly hates "unfair".

Dadda said that he thought Cokie and Beep both had enough padding to see them through missing wun treat and Maman should go back to bed.

But "mygraines" make Maman behave funny. She says she can't think right when she's having them, so afta she gave us the Baby Organic Carrots and gave the Dawg his Milk-Bone, she took treats Uppystairs and handed them out to Cokie and Beep. 

She was just starting to feel guilty over Phil's Chowder of Five when Dadda said, "Whut they don't know won't' hurt them. Go lie down, dear." and Maman sort of wandered off inna direction of the Bedroom - anna Dawg trailed after her (because basically, atta age of 14 Marc doesn't see enny reazons for getting outta bed enny earlier than he has to! I mean, as he said, it's not like his Gardin has moved much inna last five ot six years, so...he can re-mark his boundaries at eight o'clock inna morning just as well as he can at six.).

So we didn't hear ennyfing much frum Maman until Later. She came out again and said it was raining, but that was only Dadda-inna-shower. Da Dawg says it is "much too cold out" to rain and being frozen-to-the-ground while carrying out certain "jobs" inna Gardin is lookin' like a "real possibil'ty". Dadda said the Nashunal Wedder Service is predicting Snow, so he was trying to get a head-start on the day - but with Maman wandering around with her left eye hurting badly, it not easy onna'count obba Fakt it makes him werried about her.

So to help Dadda, right now, We Are In Charge. 

Yeah. 

Well, that's Alla Us Togedder along with Da Dawg. Phil's asleep, but if ennyfing major breaks out, I'm sure he'll wake up just as soon as Marc barks or Maman screams or I thump. 

But we're the Furst Line of The Fence around heer, and we take Our Job pretty seriously. Dadda told Da Dawg he's "On Guard", so he's sitting atta bottom obba stairs in case there's an Outbreak of Catz. 

And we're heer, all snugged up in Our Morning Handful of Hay, keeping our eyes opin and ears swivelling while we munch - onna'count obba Fakt we're keeping Onna'Lert. 

Yeah.

So we're bizzy helping Dadda this morning. Maman doesn't feel good and sumbunny has to be In Charge of the Warren. So I'm TopBunning it along with Mr Mouse, with Da Dawg doing "support". Onna'count obba Fakt that you nebber know - Sumfing might happin. 

But we'll be reddy.

------------------------------------ By George

Posted by Our Warren at 9:46 AM EST

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It was FIVE years ago today that Belinda Bunny sat down at Maman's 'puter and decided that HouzRabbits should have their Ownliest Voice onna Werld Wide Web - and that that Voice was going to be hers!

Yeah!

And so, she created the Furst Entry in The Hay Diaries bunny blog, typin' 'bout her 'speriences in Life assa HouzRabbit frum her ownliest Perspektive - frum where she actually viewed life - which was almost hextactly Frum Wun Foot Offa Ground.

And the Werld looks pretty dif'frunt from Our Perspektive, lemme tell you!  Not hextactly Whut Hoomins allus fink it should be, and not allus hextpressed in language hoomins approve, but as Belinda said, "If you don't like it, get your own blog. This is mine!" (and then she would continue on and mutter about how nobunny was breaking ennybunny's arm to make them read Whut She Typed, and all - but that was Belinda!)

Belinda was pretty much All About Self-Responsibility and Self-Regulation and she was def'nitly against Outside Innerfearance Frum Blockheads Who Lacked Respekt-As-Well-As-'Tellygince.

But, as she pointed out, as long as they have a 'puter anna tellyphone line, Stoopit People Go Ebberywheres Without Ever Leaving Home. 

"Dadda said that before the arrival obba Railways, every village had it's Idiot." Belinda told me. "And now they're exporting dem. So sumbunny has gotta ged in there and reppysent da Lagomorphin Point ob View. It doesn't matter if ennybunny accepts it; Whut Matters issat it is there to be seen Just In Case sumbunny wants to accept it." 

Belinda was Big on Choice. According to her, bunnies allus have Choices. That's why there are allus several exits and entrances to a Warren. That's why bunnies bond with Wun Bunny, but might choose to have kits wif anudder bunny. It's why bunnies are great Companion Pets, because we Choose. Dawgs live by Roolz. Catz are just a bunch of Opportunistic Elitests in fur. Bunnies make choices.

We heer at Our Warren live inna Multu-Species Warren, so we get to see close-up how dogs, cats and bunnies are dif'frunt and how we are alla'same. In sum fings, we're alla'like. We are all spayed-and-neutered. We all have our ownliest food-and-water-crocks. We all get Well-Critter Vet-Checks ev'ry year. And ev'ry wun of us issa Rescue or 'Dopshun. But living heer Alla Us Togedder in Wun Warren points out our Dif'frunces-Among-Species, too. 

There is Wun Dawg and he's a Border Collie and his life is All Roolz Alla'Time. His Biggest Rool issat he's Gotta Have A Job. It doesn't matter Whut the Job Is, Marc has just Gotta Have A Job. Even if it's just going On Patrol inna Back Gardin ev'ry morning, Marc hasta be a Dawg Onna Mission, and he's not happy with Just Wun Mission! He's a Border Collie, so he hasta have Multiple Missions - Border Collies are the Marines of the Dawg Werld, lemme tell you!

So ev'ry morning, Maman opins the Back Door to the Gardin and Marc heads out On Patrol. And In His Mind (admittedly tiny) he won't be a "Good Dawg" unless he can accomplish the following: count his squirrels inna oak tree, see off any Intruder Catz; re-mark alla boundaries obba Compost Heap (until he runs outta pee); have a Bark to let the udder neighbourhood dawgs know that he's up and about, stop atta Gate to make sure nobunny is using his sidewalk; have a look at alla bunnies inna Stone Warren; trod inna mint-patch; 'vestygate all noo smells that might have snuck unnneaf obba fence over-night - and he's gotta get alla this 'complished before sebben o'clock inna morning! - because then and only then can he sit onna top step onna Back Steps and Be The Good Dawg, Lord of All He Surveys. 

I'm telling you, the Navy only finks they get more werk done before eight o'clock inna morning than most collie-dawgs, and that's onna'count obba Fakt they gots more people werkin' onnit!

Atta udder end obba spektrum are The Catz. Uppystairs we gots Cokie and Beep and they don't do ennyfing udder than Hexpect. They Hexpect to be fed. They Hexpect to find fresh water in their crock at all times. They Hexpect Dadda wants them to sit on him when he sit down wiffa a book. They Hexpect Maman unnerstans ev'ry chirp and meow (and she doesn't even speak Feline!). They also Hexpect they each hab their ownliest Footon. And Cokie-the-Fat-Cat Hexpects ev'ry Burger King bag has Chikin Fingers innit that were ordered expressly for him!

There is No End to alla stuff they "Hexpect"!

And Downnastairs, there is Phil's Chowder of Five - KayCee (who is twelve years old and used to live in Our Warren while Phil was inna Navy), Toby, Munchkin, and Lily-an'-Oscar who fink they are brother-and-sister but who are just rescue-kitty inseperables. They arrived with Phil and Alla Them Togedder were only gonna stay a few weeks while we were all gonna Moove but Maman said then the "Bubble Burst" (whutebber that means!) and now we're all heer for As Long As God Wants, and that's hokay as long as Maman doesn't go falling downnastairs again. Dadda rilly wants her to live All On Wun Floor, but 'till then, Phil volunteered to watch her anna Chowder of Five is gonna watch Phil watch her.

Well, mainly KayCee is gonna watch Phil onna'count obba Fakt KayCee Hexpects Phil to be where she wants him to be when she wants him to be there. Which is with her, alla'time.

So, in addition to alla Reg'lar Cat Hexpectations, KayCee comes with her ownliest built-in set of Prior Hexpectations - like, Ev'rything Belongs to Her, 'Peshully and Inklooding Phil. If Phil goes out ennywheres, then KayCee comes toda door and calls Maman and Hexpects her to produce Phil outta thin air, like, well, a rabbit-outta-a-hat. And if, for some totally-absurd-and-insufficent reason Maman can't produce Phil when KayCee wants him, then KayCee Hexpects Maman to pick KayCee (and only KayCee - nebber mind those udder buggers) up and carry her innu the Sitting Room, set her onna sofa, let her snuggle innu the blanket and go to sleep until Phil returns!

Can you believe that?

Oh, and when Phil gets back, KayCee Hexpects him to pick her up and carry her downnastairs, set her on his bed and go directly to sleep with her (no video games, no moovies, no watchin' teevee, just pull uppa blankie so she can get unnerneaf obbit and GO TO SLEEP NOW!). And then, when she wakes up and is 'nnoyed for Wun Obba Million Reazons Known Only To Her, she Hexpects to pee on Phil's pillow and he is hexpected NOT to get angry abouddit...

Yeah.

And that's Catz for you!

But rabbits make choices. For hextample, we choose who rescues us. Like Belinda chose Maman. It didn't matter to her that Maman and Phil came to the Rabbit-Rescue with Heatherington so he could go on "dates" to choose a bond-mate for himself. Belinda decided she was going home with Maman and that was preddy much, that. She didn't bother to growl or nip at Heather until Maman alreaddy got her home and there was No Chance Maman was going to "take her back". Maman's not that kind of person (once you're heer, you're "part obba Warren") - and Belinda alreddy sussed that.

There were fifty bunnies in that Rescue, and Belinda chose Maman and let Maman pretend she'd picked Belinda. Actchually, Belinda just stood up in her cage and started yelling, "Hey, lady!" and she didn't stop.

Even when Heatherington (who wassa confirmed bachelor) was giving her the RBB and yelling to Maman, "No. Not that one. Especially NOT THAT ONE! Lady! Whuttsamatta with you? It's an English Spot! It'll take over our lives! No, Lady! Are you nuts? NO!"  - it didn't matter onna'count obba Fakt, Belinda was yellin' lounder.

And so Maman put Belinda inna udder carrier and she rode home onna back seat obba car nextest to Heather (who was sulking; he knew when he was beat.).

And Heatherington was right - Belinda took over the Houz.

And afta she got the hang of running the Houz, she took on running the Warren, then running Maman, then running everybun inna Warren. Then Dadda arrived frum Inkland and Belinda made up her mind to run him, too. And pretty soon, whatebber Belinda chose to do, she did. Dadda says that the Reazon alla furries get their ownliest way is onna'count obba Fakt Mamn can't say "no". The Fakt issat Maman can say "no". In fact she says "no" alot obba time. It's that Belinda chose nebber to hear the werd "No" unless she was The Wun saying it.

So when Belinda chose to start her Ownliest Blog and to add a Bunny's Voice to the Werld Wide Web ("To give a voice toda voiceless" as she said.) it happened.

Because bunnies make choices. It's Whut We Do.

So that's Whut We're Celebrating Today heer at Our Warren - Belinda's Choice. Five years ago today, Belinda Bunny chose to sit up at the 'puter keyboard and begin typing about Life assa Houzrabbit. She wanted to share her 'Pinions and Observations with hoomins and with udder bunnies, onna'count obba Fakt she believed that if everybun shared hextperiences, they would eventchually share Respeckt.

And she did get sum crittysissum - for her spelling, and use of language ("my rabbits speak perfect English" wun person bragged to Maman. And Belinda sed, "Yeah, notice that their their hippo-critical hoomin is allus talkin' FOR them! Poor, mute bunnies livin' wiffa control-freak who nebber lets them type a werd on their own. Shame on her!") - but it nebber bothered her.

Belinda chose to deddykate her life to helpin' hoomins unnerstand HouzRabbits. She didn't choose to live in such a way as to be called "Good Bunny" or to perform Jobs, and she didn't choose to live constantly Hexpecting ennyfing udder than Salad and 'Nanners (wif Craisins if Maman was outta 'nanners). She chose to be Belinda Bunny, blogger, HouzRabbit, Companion Bunny, TopBun and my Furstest Friend at Our Warren.

To Belinda and The Hay Diaries! From 2004 to now, and beyond. Hoppy Noo Year, Ev'ry Bun!

--------------------------------------------------- By George   

Posted by Our Warren at 11:38 AM EST

Updated: Thursday, 1 January 2009 11:43 AM EST

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I hadda sultana yesterday.

There is nuffing wrong with having a sultana wunce inna while.

Sure, they are fulla suger.

Sure, they are not hextactly "good" for you.

But they taste good.

They make me happy.

So I hadda sultana yesterday.

And Missy had wun, and so did Mr Mouse, and Dusty and Foxie. We all had sultanas, which are rilly Golden Raisins, but since Dadda calls them Sultanas, so do we!

And they were lovely!

A Noo Year's Suggestshun: allus have sum of Whut You Want on Noo Year's so that Whutebber "It" Is gets used to coming innu your Houz throughout the Noo Year!

Yeah!

Udderwise, Good Fings might fortyget where you live. So allus bemind them Where You Can Be Found!

This way, the Sultanas know Our Warren is heer and waiting for them. We in No Way disapprove of Sultanas. We don't disapprove of happiness. We don't disapprove of Treats.

And we don't disapprove of taking time out for Small, Transitory Pleasures. There is nothing wrong with small, and the longer sumfing goes on, the more you get used to it and the less you 'prisshyate it.

Sultanas ev'ry day would be too much. A sultana around Noo Year's beminds you that there are udder kinds of raisins inna werld to be thankful for - afta all, there are also sweet, sticky Zante currents.

Maman says there might be a small flurry of Zante currents tonight. 

She also says she has seen the Futchur and it looks a lot like Salad. I hadda look when she opened the Salad Bank to withdraw sum milk for her coffee and there's pretty much sum Romaine, Baby Organic Carrots, and Froot in there that should be coming Our Way. At least, the Romaine, Baby Organic Carrots, and Assorted Froots will know Where We Live through the Noo Year and Beyond.

Maman said wunna the most 'portant fings to bemember issat "It is allus darkest just before they turn onna lights." She says this issa line fromma show she played called "Anything Goes" written by sum guy named Cole Porter. She tells us abouddit while she's folding laundry, so I guess it's 'portant.

But it seems mainly troo. It is allus darkest just before sumbunny bemembers to turn onna lights. I can't tell you the number of times it gets dark early inna Winter-time and Missy and I are sitting togedder in Our Habbytats and Missy will look atta sky outta Our Window and say to me, "Looks like dark."

And right about that momint, sumbunny will come in and say, "Oh no! Bunnies-inna-Dark!" and switch on Our Light.

And, yup, it's rilly, rilly BRIGHT alla sudden, lemme tell you!

So there's anudder fing to bemember on Noo Year's: keep your light shining no madder how much you fink It Looks Like Dark. It keeps you frum being sus'prised by too much bright.

So, with lights on and Sultanas, we heer at Our Warren figger that we're pretty much ready to See Inna Noo Year.

Oh, and tomorrow on Noo Year's Day, The Hay Diaries will be starting on it's fifth year. Yeah. Five years ago tomorrow Belinda Bunny sat down to begin typin' her blog and heer am I, Wum Small White Bunny, hopping (more or less) in her feetprints.

It does make you fink...

---------------------------------------By George

Posted by Our Warren at 11:17 AM EST

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I was talking with Mr Mouse.

When Foxie was sick last week, Maman and Dadda fixed uppa BunPen Uppystairs in Dadda's Office so she could have Hextercise to help her get her pooties movin' through her system again. So now, of course, we all want a turn having our Playtime Uppystairs inna BunPen. But that means we have to have "Arrangemints" as Maman calls it and we have to "Take Turns" - sometimes sum of us being Downnastairs while sum of us are Uppystairs, having Playtime inna BunPen. Which is pretty much the same thing that goes on when the BunPen is put up out onna ScreenPorch inna Summertime.

Now, Missy and I have allus been 'lowed to have Playtime in Maman's Study, which is only Wun Door away frum Dadda's Office, but somehow, onna'count obba Fakt the BunPen is inna Noo Place, it just seems like a Whole Lot More Fun, even if it is smaller than a Whole Room, and doesn't have a Footon or ennyfing like that. Sumtimes a "Noo" location makes sumfing "Old" seem Betta onna'count obba Fakt it is inna "Noo" place - in udder werds, Dif'frunt can be As Good As Noo.

So, ennways, I was talking to Mr Mouse while we were in Our Habbytats inna BunRoom, waiting for Maman or Dadda to come get us to take us Uppystairs for Our Turn at Playtime.

And the Houz was Pretty Quiet.

Mr Mouse was just browsing, sort of going through his Morning Handful of hay one strand atta time, looking for the tasty bits and trying to find the bits that were best suited for building. He hadda whole Hay Wall going atta back of his Habbytat and was looking to add to it. Missy had settled down for her Morning Nap against the back of Our Habbytat, and I was over in my Finking Spot, which issa spot closest to Mr Mouse's habbytat.

And Mr Mouse called over to me and said, "Hey George. I gotta draft ober heer." and he started to pile up summa his hay towards the back of his habbytat.

And I said, "Yeah, tell me about it. We got wun ober heer, too - ev'ry time they open the Back Door to let the Stoopit Dawg in or out On Patrol, we gotta draft. Missy's been complaining about it since we mooved innu This Houz."

"No, rilly." Said Mouse. "This issa preddy Noo Draft. It's frumma ScreenPorch Door, and it's a deffynit draft. I can feel it on my butt when I lie down to sleep." 

And I was like, "You know, This Houz has more leaks than the Old Houz ebber did, and the Old Houz hadda lot more windows and stuff." 

And Mouse stopped shoving hay for a minit and swivelled his ears thoughtfully. "You know, you're right?" He said. "I bemember the Furst BunRoom, and there were three big windows in it besides the door that led to the Hallway. Anna windows looked out rilly, rilly high up, into the tree tops."

"Yeah." I said. "I bemember my very furst habbytat there wassa liddle cage - Maman called it a 'hospiddle cage' and it was set up onna shelf, and it looked out over wun of those windows. I bemember looking out and being on eyeball-level with sum sparrows. I was only a babby then."

"You were 'nnoying then." Piped up Missy, sleepily. "Going around axting ev'ry gurl-bunny, 'Are you my mawmie?' I thought Belinda was gonna bite your head off."

"Belinda was TopBunny then." I said. "And she slept nextest to the side of her habbytat so I could cuddle up to her because I'd been 'bandoned inna cardboard box atta vet's and felt all OnAlone.."

"Belinda was very sick when you met her." Missy said, pulling her back feets under her and nosing around inna fresh Morning Handful. "She had 'cancer' Maman called it and hadda travel inna car to go see Dokter Doolan far away and Dokter Sharin close by and they gave her lots ob meddysin and said she could have alla fresh salad she could eat. Maman said Belinda could have ennyfing she wanted because she was so sick that her tummy wouldn't hold on to ennyfing. But even though she was sick, and her tummy hurt her frumma 'cancer' stuff, Belinda still believed in 'NoBunny OnAlone'. And that's why she let you sleep cuddled uppa'gainst her, George." 

"Well, when I came, I didn't unnerstand that whole 'NoBunny OnAlone' fing." Said Mr Mouse. "I came frum my own warren where I was TopBun."

"And you thought you should have been TopBun when you got to Our Warren." I said. 

Mouse shrugged. "Yeah, well, I didn't know, did I? I mean, six years as TopBun and then suddenly, I'm not. So of course I started a Pee War with that big English Spot I'd just met. I thought I was born to be a TopBun, just your reg'lar Natchural Leader. And heer was this big, elderly English Spot bossing the whole place around, and she was sick and ebberyfing, so I figgered..."

"And ding-dong, you were wrong." Said Missy, sing-song sarcastic-like. And she shook her ears. "Ebben sick, Belinda could out-pootie most udder bunnies. When it came to Our Warren, it was HER Warren and that was preddy much, that. Belinda had Roolz. And once you stopped peein' ebberywheres and buildin' pootie-walls, you got the hang of it. And were glad you did."

"Yeah," Said Mouse slowly. "I was glad I did. But I hadda change my whole, entire finking. I mean, I hadda get ober the whole 'I'mma TopBun' attytood."

"Do you miss it?" I axted. "Do you miss that attytood?"

And Mr Mouse shook his head. "Nope." He said. And he flinged up sum strands of hay and watched them fall down onto the nest he was building atta back of his habbytat, nearest the ScreenPorch Door. 

"To be perfektly honest with you, I don't fink I rilly 'gave up' ennyfing at all. I mean, I still get treated "'Peshul. Maman takes me innu the Sitting Room to sit onna sofa, eat Rice Chex and see my old friends frum 'Law & Order'. I ride around on Dadda's shoulder when Foxie isn't alreddy occupying it. I get to run around in Dadda's Office. Dadda brings my Salad atta same time Maman brings yours and Missy's. So afta I lost the 'attytood', whut hextactly did I 'give up'?"

"The attytood." Replied Missy, promptly. 

"Yeah." Said Mouse. "It was like I only hadda change my finking, and then fings got bedda, not worse - which was whut I'd been afraid of, you know. I thought if I changed How I Was, I wouldn't be me ennymore, but I'm still me, and I get the same stuff, only ev'ryfing is bedda. I don't have to struggle to be TopBun and I still have alla TopBun stuff." 

"To get a cuddle, all you have to do is give wun." I said, remembering snuggling up to Belinda. She was a Senior Bun when I met her, and no matter whut Maman did, and even though it was Summer, there were still sum little drafts inna BunRoom atta Old Houz. Belinda didn't sleep much and she was allus awake, poking her nose in and axting if I was comfortyable enuf to sleep. And she allus began by saying, "Lookit, I'm not your mawmie, but sumbunny hasta look out forda babby bunnies..."

So I would talk to her and tell her she made me feel like I hadda mawmie. And I was comfortyable. And then I would snuggle up to her and block enny liddle drafts. And she would sorta doze off, and then her English Spot energy would recharge and she'd be awake again, axting if I was all right. And that's how I learned that TopBuns stay awake all night to keep watch and sleep during the aftanoons, and how to share TopBunning Dooties so that sumbunny is allus awake and in-charge even if it is Not You Alla Time.

It doesn't have to be You Alla Time. You have to share. That's how to be TopBun, by sharing, giving away so you can have, too. 

"Well, a cuddle isn't Whut I Need right atta momint." Said Mouse. "Whut I need is to get rid of this draft."

And he put both paws into his Morning Handfull and began pushing up hay like a small, brown bulldozer.

"You know," Offered Missy, raising her ears and her nose above the rampart of hay she'd built in our habbytat against the drafts whipped up by the Dawg's tail as he passed through the BunRoom. "You're trying to cover too big an area in there. Whut You Need is to make more obba shape to fit your butt. Try backing in and custom-making a Mouse-shaped hole-inna-hay."

"You think?" axted Mouse, looking over his shoulder at the Wall o' Hay.

"Eidder that or get bonded." Said Missy. And she swung her head around and using her nose, pushed herself between me anna Water-Crock until she'd wedged her Gen'rus Pro'porshuns nextest to me, so that my fur was squashed out the side of the habbytat.

"Hey George." She said, elegantly draping one long, loppy ear over my neck. "I fink there's sumfing stuck on my whisker, right heer. You wanna habba look at it for me?"

And you know? You gotta give kisses to get kisses...

---------------------------------------- By George

Posted by Our Warren at 6:36 AM EST

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