I’ve been fighting my feelings and trying to take things slow with my new lady. With the mummies I’ve always gone for a treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen kind of attitude, but my girl deserves better than that. She’s a delicate, furry little angel who will get only the best treatment.

The first night she was here I said “hello” through the bars of our separate abodes occasionally, and checked on her when she wasn’t looking to make sure she had everything she needed and wasn’t upset. I was really high up due to our set-up, so I wasn’t too in her face. She settled in perfectly, so the next day the mummies swapped our cages over so we were more level with one another and had a better view. It was great, we could chat a lot more, have a good sniff and wash for each other. She loves it when I do my face, I can tell.

After a few stolen moments through the bars I asked the mummies if maybe we could get a little bit closer outside. I told them that they could stay if they didn’t trust me, and let me know if I was going too fast or overstepped the mark. Luckily, they agreed and we went in my – sorry, OUR – run in the garden. I gave her her space and let her come to me, and then we just hopped around in the sunshine for a while. It was great! We explored a few tunnels – separately, of course; I wouldn’t want to crowd her – checked for escape routes (there weren’t any), and nibbled grass. She can’t half put it away!

We passed each other by a few times pretending not to notice (it’s a rabbit thing), had quite a few sniffs and followed one another about a bit until a rain cloud came and spoilt all our fun, but it was 8 minutes and 50 seconds of bunny bliss.

The next day we met on the landing and did much of the same, except she let me get a bit closer that time. I sniffed her a lot, and she smells wonderful – like hay and nuggets. When she let me get right up close I though I might be well in there, so I summoned up all my courage and went in for a kiss. Denied. I think I was moving a bit too fast, but later on she did give me nosies. It was waaaay different than when the mummies do it. Her nosies rock!

I know she likes me because she sleeps right up against the bars where our cages touch, and she looks for me when I’m out of sight. I can’t let myself think of that as a green light though, I have to respect her. No funny business, no circling and definitely no hair pulling.

We’re going to have a rendezvous on the landing again tomorrow, and if things go well I might invite her into my living room so she can have a sniff under the TV cabinet, and I can show her how to pick just the right time to pee on the sofa and leg it. That’s far more romantic than flowers, and she’d only eat them, right?

Guilt = Gifts

Since Tucker arrived the mummies have been feeling a bit guilty beacause I now have to deal with his wind, his gob and his big ugly head gawping at me through the bars. I couldn’t care less, but I’m not telling them that, as Christmas comes once a week now!

I’ve had a few incidentals which aren’t worth mentioning (I know I sound ungrateful, but it’s true) but check out this little lot!

I got my very own wrecking ball. You know how much I love wrecking stuff.

Let's get wreckin'!

Let’s get wreckin’!

I liked it so much they bought me another wrecking ball!

I can nibble and wreck at the same time!

I can nibble and wreck at the same time!

Then I got this wicked cool tunnel…

On the run!

On the run!

…and look at this! An in-cage, living salad tray!

Obviously it's much better if you tip it out all over the carpet.

Obviously it’s much better if you tip it out all over the carpet.

And let’s not forget the best gift of them all.

You can't see my face because she was snogging it off.

You can’t see my face because she was snogging it off.

I’m going to practice my unhappy face and leave some pet shop tabs open.

Where did I leave off yesterday? Oh yeah, the mummies not thinking my future happiness was worth a 2 hour round trip. Not cool. Anyway, I started looking at some google images whilst creating my online dating profile, and discovered that, although I stick to my guns and say I’m not choosy, and I’m definitely not shallow, it turns out I have a type: I like ’em hairy!

I found myself drawn to mini lion lops, with their gorgeous face-shape reminiscent of my own, and their laissez-faire attitude to trimming. I told Mummy J, and she got on the job right away, trying to find me a fluffy companion. As luck would have it, there was a breeder with baby girls who would have been ready to go in a week in our area! I was bursting with excitement, and wasn’t sure how I would manage to wait a whole 7 days, but Mummy El said she’d waited for 26 years for Mummy J, so a week’s nothing when you’re looking at a lifetime of happiness.

Mummy J began emailing the breeder, and that’s where it all fell apart. The exchange was so bizarre you couldn’t have scripted it, and it would have been funny if it hadn’t been my heart and my future on the line. Every time Mummy J asked the lady a question she would give a completely random answer, totally unrelated to what was asked! Mummy asked her 3 times if she and Mummy El could come and visit the girls, and eventually she got a 3 word reply (with no punctuation, I might add) “yes of course”. Mummy asked if they could go the next day, and we’re still waiting for her reply now!

After waiting all of Monday evening and Tuesday morning to hear back, Mummy J looked again to see if there were any more lovely ladies for me, and guess what – she found some! And, they were old enough to come home with us right then!

Mummy El phoned the breeder and it just got better and better; they only lived 5 minutes away, we could go and see them that evening, and when I say “we”, I mean we! I could come too! So, my internet date turned into a speed date as I was introduced to the 4 most beautiful girls I have ever seen. Our eyes met, we touched noses, I acted aloof (it’s a rabbit thing), it was all perfect. There were 2 brunettes, a grey and a platinum blonde to choose from, but I just couldn’t decide. I mean, how to you break 3 girls’ hearts? Seeing and meeting me like that, then not being chosen and spending the rest of their lives dwelling on what they could have had, knowing they’ve missed out on a life with me… I couldn’t bear that on my conscience. So I told Mummy El to decide. And she told Mummy J to decide.

I said bye bye to the girls and went back into my carrier; I thought they’d never make a decision, it seemed like forever until I was being popped into the car, and it felt like they were driving home via Scotland – the tension was killing me, I couldn’t wait to see who they’d chosen for me!

I’m pretty sure you’re as excited to see her as I was, so without further ado, may I introduce to you, my beautiful lady love.

My platinum blonde ball of hairy love

My platinum blonde ball of hairy love

Told you she was gorgeous! We’re like the Brad and Angelina of bunnies, except I’m a bit better looking than Brad, obviously. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go and do something gentlemanly…

Remember I told you yesterday that my mummies have been trying to find me a girlfriend? Well, I was keeping a little secret! She was already here! I wanted to keep her to myself for a bit before I introduced her to the world though. Jillian Michaels isn’t often wrong and that hot, muscled mumma was right again: state your intentions to the world, open your heart, and take action, and whatever you want can be yours. And she is – she’s mine, all mine!

Jillian was right about something else too; if it’s really worth having it won’t come easy, but you have to keep going and surmount any and all obstacles. Luckily, I’m a natural athlete and particularly talented hurdler, so I laugh in the face of obstacles. I couldn’t have asked for a better result, she’s a real beauty, and was worth the search.

At first my mummies thought that maybe I would like a lady my own age since we should have some shared experiences, a similar outlook on life and plenty in common, but they couldn’t find one. Like I said, I didn’t mind if she was big or small feet, big or small ears, whether they stood up or were lopped, whether she haf long or short hair or what colour she is, as long as she was pretty (aren’t they all?) and petite so our love didn’t end in tragedy and broken ribs.

The problem they were having was finding a lady small enough for me. They went to our local shelter at the weekend because we all thought it would be nice to give a grown up bunny who needed one a nice home, but Mummy El said that they weren’t just big, they were huuuuuuuge! Then they looked online at other bunny rescues in our area, and they only had big girls too. I suppose it’s good that Netherlands Dwarfs like me, and Mini Lops seem to find good and loving forever homes, but I feel sad for all the other kinds of bunnies.

When their search came to a dead-end they asked me how I felt about younger women, and I told them that, of course, I was well up for that! Baby bunnies direct from a breeder it was!

They decided internet dating was the way to go and found me a sexy lady online who wasn’t too far away from here, so they called her temporary mum right away. Devastated. Someone else had got in there already, and my first potential girlfriend was being picked up by someone else that afternoon. She was gorgeous too – pale grey and very fluffy. C’est la vie, she’s missed out.

They found me a couple more cuties but they were a tad young for me at the time. They were maturing fast though, and could have come to live with us in 2 weeks – 2 weeks is a long time in bunny years, so I wouldn’t have felt like too much of a hay-cradle snatcher. The thing is, they were about an hour away by car, which the mummies said was too far. I say that nowhere is too far to go in the quest for true love. I would go to the ends of the Earth for my lady love, so I think the least they could’ve done was go to Marchwood! This from the people who went to York for the smelly puppy!

Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you about how I met my girl, and if you’re lucky I might even show you a picture!

So, I’ve been thinking; maybe I need a woman in my life. Actually, I think a woman needs me in her life. Having this many incredible qualities and no-one to share them with is just a waste. She’s going to be a very lucky doe, whoever she is.

I’ve been happy as a bachelor so far, but there comes a time in a bunny’s life when he needs to think about his future and start to settle down. It’d be nice to have a little lady to snuggle up to at night and share my nuggets with.

I’ve got a lot to offer the right girl, and I mean a lot. First of all, look at me. Have you ever seen a rabbit this good looking? Probably not. That should be enough on its own, but I’ve got charisma in spades, an amazing sense of humour and serious career prospects, what with my job as a shredder, my work as a freelance electrician and, of course, the modelling – have I mentioned what a looker I am?

I'm sexy and I know it.

I’m sexy and I know it.

As far as lifestyle is concerned, a bunny couldn’t ask for better. I live in a lovely cosy bedroom with my mummies (the puppy barks and trumps a bit, but he’s all right), I dine on only the best nuggets, there’s a constant supply of hay, and I get fresh fruit and veg every day. I’ve got loads of room to roam and have the run of our upstairs; there are a bunch of great places I’ve made my burrows, like under the telly and the guitar stands, and I’ve got a cracking run to stretch my legs and nibble grass in when the weather’s nice. I’ve got a cage with a view, which has served me well as a bachelor pad, but now I’m rattling around in that big old hutch, and I’m thinking it’s time to make it a cosy home for two.

The view of the from my hutch

The view of the from my hutch

I’m not too choosy, I’d be equally happy with a lady who was black, brown, white, striped, dotty, whatever! The only thing I ask is that she’s petite, not because I’m shallow, but because I’m only a kilo and I don’t want to be squashed in a cuddle gone bad. I’m an equal opportunities lover.

Obviously, my mummies have devastatingly good taste in bunnies as they chose me, so I’ve been leaving most of the search up to them. I’m keeping it under my hat, but I’m quite looking forward to having a warm, fluffy little body to share my cage and my life with.

So, you’ll remember when I last wrote I was excited about the arrival of my puppy, Tucker. Well, he’s here. And don’t I know it. He came bounding into our lives on January 11th and things haven’t been the same since.

On his way home

On his way home

Now, as much as I was looking forward to his arrival, as soon as I got a whiff of him, instinct kicked in and I wasn’t so keen. You can’t fight nature, and although my heart and head were telling me he was the pup I so badly wanted, and I loved my other doggy brother, Geordi, my stupid nervous system didn’t like his smell.

After a day or so my instincts chilled out, but unfortunately, he didn’t! I only knew Geordi from when he was about 13 so, although he was still nippy on his feet and very enthusiastic about life, he handled himself with a bit of decorum. Man, puppies are bouncy! And hard work!

Us having a nez a nez

Us having a nez a nez

Then it wasn’t my instincts that were offended by his smell – it was my nostrils. And everyone else’s nostrils! That boy had some serious gas. Then my ears suffered, and are still suffering. I had no idea dogs were so loud and stinky!

He’s all right, he’s sweet and soppy, but I was told he’d be like a four-legged Einstein; as far as I can tell he’s not that bright. I’m a killer combo of sophisticated and cool, and he’s just a bit, well, simple. He lollops about the place grinning like an idiot, wagging his big kinked tail, kissing any and everyone, and looking for food. As an example of his stupidity, check this out. He got into my house looking for me when I was eating the soft furnishings in the living room, and the jolt made the lid fall. Result: puppy prison.



And he barks at his reflection, and dogs on the TV, and he’s endlessly amused by doorstops. He’s not showing any signs of getting brighter either; he fell of the foot of the bed last week!

I reiterate: Idiot.

I reiterate: Idiot.

He comes over to say hello and give me kisses, and most of the time I can manage to be polite and let him, but sometimes I’m just not in the mood and have to give him a grunt and a bit of a slap. Kids. Who’d have them?!

When he’s grown up and calmed down I’m sure we’ll get on like a house on fire, but right now all we’ve got in common is that we’re very handsome, very loved and very spoilt.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, people! I hope you’re all looking forward to the year ahead as much as I am. Sorry I’m a day late, but I spent yesterday sleeping off the night before. It was a heavy one.

Like you've never fallen asleep with your head in a bowl

Like you’ve never fallen asleep with your head in a bowl.

Have you made any resolutions? I haven’t, because I know I won’t stick to them. Like, last year my resolution was to not chew anything I didn’t have permission to wreck, but within hours nature had taken over and there were bunny bite marks all over the place. Fish gotta swim, footballers gotta spit and swear, bunnies gotta nibble. That’s life, folks.

Mummy El’s got a resolution alternative, she’s got a 2013 to do list. She says that resolutions are too wishy-washy, that if you say something general, like, “go to the gym more” or “go to the driving range more regularly” it’s too easy to default on it. So, she’s decided that 2 things of the things she’s going to achieve this year are adding at least 2cm to her upper-arm circumference and play that round of golf she’s been threatening to give Mummy J and Grandad for the last 3 years! (She blames her back for her skinny arms and lack of golfing effort, but I think 3 years is pushing it!)

See, her way of thinking is that if she has a specific goal then the resolution will happen on its own. To get a bit more muscle mass she will have to go out to her gym more often; if she’s going to book a round of golf in she’ll need to practice a bit, ergo, she’ll have to go to the driving range. (Good luck with the second one, Mum. I saw you holding onto the walls, creaking out to the bathroom this morning.)

As much as it pains me to say it, I think she sort of makes sense. So, with that said, my first goal of 2013 is to find an alternative route under the bed. What are your goals and resolutions?

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