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Archive for July, 2012

The one good thing about living with a pair of clucky, over-cautious girls is that occasionally it’s less annoying and more useful, a relief even.

They got seriously overheated during the heat wave we had and worried that the same was happening to me. To be fair, I had been getting a bit warm; they can strip down to a bikini (gross) when needs must but I’m stuck with this fur coat. Beautiful, soft and lustrous it might be, but it’s not the most comfortable thing to be carrying around in 30 degree temperatures. They spray themselves with cold water too, but I’m not a fan of that at all. It brings back very bad memories.

Anyway, they said they were going out to buy me something nice, which normally means something annoyingly healthy and decidedly tasteless, but to my surprise they really did get me something nice!

They came back with a waterbed! Well, it was a waterbed until they stuck it in the freezer and then the mattress got somewhat firmer. It’s a bit like a hot water bottle, except instead of making it really really hot you make the water really really cold, until it’s ice, not water anymore at all. Then I park my heat-exhausted, furry little body on it and cools me down!

I would say “how cool is that?” but that would be beneath me. Great though, eh?

If any of you have got furry friends who suffer the effects of the heat maybe they’d like one too. I’m sure they’re fab for cats, dogs and other 4 legged people as well as rabbits. They got it from a well known large pet chain, reasonably priced at £5.99. A small price to pay for their peace of mind and my comfort, so they say 🙂

Anyway, as predicted, as soon as they went out and bought it the temperature dropped by 10 degrees, the heavens opened and the sun went MIA, but if it ever returns, we’re prepared!

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Well, it’s finally here! The Olympics! It’s my first games, ‘cos I’m only 2, and I’m very excited. My mummies have told me what to expect and I’ve watched them play the Olympics Xbox game so I know what most of the events are about. A couple of them make me nervous for some reason; I recoil at the thought of archery and shooting…

I’ve got a vested interest in the sprinting and jumping events being quite the specialist in those fields myself, and I’ve already been forced to watch the ladies football, basketball, volleyball, tennis, handball, hockey… well, anything and everything with a ball in it, with my mummies. With Mummy El being a Personal Trainer she’s like a bunny in a carrot patch at the minute.

I’ve only got one problem with the Olympics, but as problems go it’s quite a big one. I don’t know who to cheer for. Where should my loyalties lie?

Technically, I suppose I’m English; one of my mummies is English, and I was born and raised here, so part of me feels like I should be behind Team GB, but then my other Mummy is German so maybe I should be behind Team Deutschland too… But then going by my bloodline I’m Dutch, so maybe I should be cheering for Holland… Also, I like that their outfits are the colour of carrots.

After a weekend of emotional turmoil worrying myself about the situation I’ve decided that I’m going to follow my mummies’ lead. They’re both equally supportive of the Brits and the Germans and when they play each other they don’t mind who wins. I’ve added my own twist to that; if it’s GB v Germany girls I’ll cheer for the best looking athlete or team and if it’s boys I’ll cheer for the team that’s winning. Sorted.

Right, I’m off to see when the Beach Volleyball is on. If you’d like to watch me in training for the bunny Olympics, please click here!

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First and foremost I have an apology and confession to make. Although I am, chiefly, responsible for my blog I do get my mummies to deal with the technical bits and Mummy El does all of the scheduling and publishing. She messed it all up this week because yesterday’s blog was supposed to go live today and today’s was supposed to have been up yesterday. AND, she skipped a day! She reckons that it’s been a particularly stressful week and that she can’t think straight with all that’s gone on (and continues to), but I think that the sun’s frazzled her brain.

Whatever the reasoning, she’s been totally rubbish and it’s inexcusable. She needs to get her priorities sorted, and by that I mean that we need to go back to the old rule: What I say goes, and everything else is secondary. I don’t care if your hair is on fire or the roof has collapsed (neither of those things happened, by the way), feed me, get my blog done, then deal with whatever the problem is.

So, without any further ado, here is the third and final part, albeit, 2 days late and out of sync, of A Day in the Life.

17:27pm: I retreat into the living room and hang my head in shame after my failure to conquer the guest room. I chill for a bit whilst Mummy El gloats.

Chillin

Chillaxing. It’s the word all the cool kids are using.

17:45pm: I go and see Mummy J and remind her that all work and no play makes a grumpy Mummy and a bored bunny.

18:00pm: Mummy J finally prizes herself away from her desk and comes to see me for a couple of minutes before dragging Mummy El off to the kitchen to help her cook. By “help” I mean stand, watch and be useless.

18:01pm: I have nothing better to do than have a wash and a kip.

18:43pm: My mummies come back, dinner in hand, I’m rudely awoken and have to get comfy again before I can relax and watch TV with them.

18:45pm: I take my place on the rug, right in front of the TV, wait for someone to fire up the Tivo and catch up with the latest goings on in Emmerdale. Don’t judge me, there’s a lot of drama in that village.

18:49pm: All of the food smells and their chewing makes me hungry so I join them in the chomping and have a nibble on my nuggets.

18:56pm: I come and join my mummies on the sofa and put up with all of their fussing. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for a comfy seat.

Cosy

19:33pm: I get a bit involved in the televisual dramatics and only realise when I get moaned at that a little poopy has slipped out, so I leg it off the sofa into my loo.

19:36pm: I get off the loo and have a good wash.

19:47pm: Mummy El takes the plates out and I follow her to check on the door situation.

19:57pm: After checking all of the doors, several times, I sit outside the bedroom door and wait for someone to come and open it.

20:09pm: Mummy El goes into the bedroom, I try to follow her in, but she strategically opens it just a crack, sticks her foot in the threshold and closes the door quickly behind her. I stick my head in and grunt, but it’s all in vain. Mummy El – 2, Tino – 1. It’s not looking good for me.

20:10pm: With the two of them having showers I hop and run around for a bit then make sure I go and park myself in the best spot on the sofa before they get back.

20:33pm: My mummies come back and I realise, once again, that the sofa comes accompanied with cuddles, kisses, stupid high-pitched baby voices, and lots of stroking.

Yuck.

20:35pm: Having let them have their fun and taken all I can of all of the cuddling and cooing I decide that it’s now time for affection the Tino way. I lower my chin to the ground and look up at them with my big beautiful eyes, and they know the drill. It’s time for nosey kisses. They’re my faves. My mummies do a kissy relay, one taking over when the other’s neck is about to snap, stroking my nose from tip to forehead with their face. I don’t know what all the fuss is about – it doesn’t hurt me in the slightest. If they stop I remind them that I’m still here and haven’t said they can stop by shoving my nose under whichever body part of theirs is closest. It gets them every time.

20:52pm: Both of their necks have had it, which means an end to the kisses and the need for an extremely thorough wash. It feels lovely at the time but I end up filthy.

21:00pm: I get my one hour warning to have a run around and enjoy myself before I have to go back to my hutch.

21:01pm: I run around like a loon, jump up on the sofa, use my mummies as spring boards to get on the back of the sofa and then jump onto the window sill and have a look out of the window.

21:02pm: The sight of one of the over-the-road neighbours scares me to death and I hop back down.

21:05pm: I get over the shock and start circling the coffee table at speed. I’ve got some serious four-wheel drive and traction control.

21:08pm: I have a little rest and go again.

21:12pm: I have a refreshment and comfort break, then, of course, a wash.

21:30pm: I go and see Frodo, despite warnings from my mummies.

21:31pm: Warnings not heeded, a tiny paw comes through the bars and I get a smack round the face. Why can’t we all just get along?

21:37pm: Mummy El feeds Frodo. She puts a nice big pile of seeds in the palm of her hand and opens the door; he clambers out, sits on her hand and starts picking out the bits he likes the most and pouches them, item by item. I love Sunflower seeds – it’s a weakness – but they’re not included in my fruit salad or nuggets so I hop on over to see if maybe I can scrounge one. Mummy El knows what I’m after so picks one out for me, but Frodo also knows what I’m after so I get a second smack. They think I’m a fool for continuing to try to foster a relationship with him, but I think I’m just an optimist, hopeful that one day he’ll realise that I’m a nice boy really, and just want to be friends.

21:39pm: I sit and have a nibble on my Sunflower seed, feeling a bit sorry for myself and have a little wander, killing the last few minutes before “the b-word”.

21:53pm: I hear the familiar and tempting sound of the bedroom door opening and see the perfect opportunity to avoid “the b-word”. I hare towards the door at lightening speed and manage to get past Mummy J! They’re a bit dozy by that time of night, bless them. Mummies – 2, Tino – 2.

21:54pm: I realise that my naughtiness has been preempted. The bed is completely blocked off and they’ve already built my ramp. Poop. Mummy El joins Mummy J in the bedroom and they try to cajole me up onto the bed and onto my ramp with cries of “Come on, Tino, bedtime!” “Up into bed, there’s a good boy!” Good boy and into bed, my fluffy backside! I grunt and double-back, only to find that Mummy El has closed the bedroom door, and I’m stuck here. Mummies – 3, Tino – 2. I fear it’s too late in the day to pull this one back.

21:55pm: I lay down as far from the bed as I possibly can and have a sulk by the drum kit, out of principle.

Having a sulk

21:59pm: My principles are overpowered by my tummy. I hear my bowl being replenished with nuggets and decide that maybe my hutch isn’t such a bad place to be after all. I hop in, Mummy J gives me 3 pieces of dried apple and then I get lots of cuddles and kisses, which I’m more in the mood for now.

22:05pm: I’m snuggled up, safe and warm with Big Brother on. I watch it for as long as I can keep my tired little eyes open, then drift off. My mummies cover my hutch with a blanket to make me feel secure all night (and to stop me chewing on the bars at 5am) and that’s the end of another day in the life of a very happy bunny.

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This is slightly old news, but my mummies didn’t want me to say anything about until we knew for sure that all was well. The thing is, the other day, my wee turned pink. Pink! How embarrassing can you get? It wasn’t quite as emasculating as the nest building accusations, but pink eliminations don’t give you many man points.

My mummies being the clucky, overreacting sort, they of course started having their obilgatory panic attacks and took to the internet to see what the problem might be, and then started worrying that it was a Saturday night and we couldn’t get to a V-E-T for a whole 36 hours… I tried to tell them that it was only my pride that was the problem, but you must know what they’re like by now, and I couldn’t calm them down.

They tried to talk each other down off the ceiling, each doing their best to convince the other that I was fine within myself, still eating and running around being the embodiment of naughtiness, and that it was nothing to worry about, but to no avail. Barely a word was spoken after my trip to the loo and they didn’t take their eyes off me. Women.

In the end, Mummy El caved and took to the internet to research what it might be; she said she wouldn’t have been able to sleep other than that. Feel free to shake your head at her. I did. Anyway, apparently it’s super common in bunnies and sometimes happens when, amongst other things, we eat too many veggies with beta carotene in them. It was my own fault. I’d ODed on beetroot. I was trying to eat it up in the hopes that I’d be bought something decent to replace it, and the colour was coming out in my piddle.

I was banned from eating beetroot for a few days and I was no longer allowed to relieve myself in private, plus I had the extra humiliation of them examining what I’d done afterwards (it really is a trial being me) to make sure that I was going regularly and it was going back to its normal colour.

I laughed at them and their ridiculous overreaction, but Mummy El explained that it could be a sign of a blocked pipe and that if I was having trouble going, the V-E-T would shove a pipe up somewhere not very nice to remove said blockage – after I heard that bit of news I failed to see the funny side.

Anyway, all’s well that ends well; my tiddles are as they should be, I’m allowed to go without an audience, and the best bit is that my plan worked and I’m now onto some fruit salad – bye bye, beetroot and your insidious pink tones!

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13:01-13:30pm: I mooch about the landing, try to dig stuff up and perform other miscellaneous cheeky acts, until the novelty of not being told off wears thin, and I just chill and wait for my mummies come back from lunch.

13:31pm: I dive at Mummies’ ankles and grunt when they come up the stairs; it’s my way of letting them know I’m happy to see them.

13:35pm: I decide that a swift game of Hide and Seek is in order.

Ssssh! Don’t tell her where I am!

13:36pm: I apparently need to come up with more original hiding places, as I’m found straight away.

13:37pm: I cover my eyes and count to 10 whilst Mummy El hides.

1 elephant, 2 elephant, 3 elephant…

13:37 and ten seconds pm: I decide I’m not fussed about finding Mummy and have a wash instead.

13:50pm: I go and park myself in one of my favourite spots on a shelf under the TV cabinet and have a nibble on a carrot top, before having a little snooze.

Mmmm… Crunchy!

15:20pm: Feeling refreshed I go and check on Mummy J. I decide to give her a little cuddle and help her with her proofreading to make her afternoon a little bit less boring.

Cosy

15:30pm: I withdraw my affection – the best way to keep them wanting more – have a thorough post-cuddle wash beofre going to find something to dig or chew up.

15:37pm: With nothing to wreck I go and see if I can forage a bit more and have a little drink. Mischief is thirsty work.

They never ask me if I want a cuppa so I make do with water

15:54pm: I hear the spare room door being opened and run, full pelt, across the landing, straight between Mummy El’s legs and hear her cries of dismay as I disappear under the spare bed. I remain here for the next hour or so, exploring an empty fish tank, some shoe boxes, and a bunch of other random stuff they probably don’t realise is here. Tino – 1, Mummies – 0.

17:02pm: I’m bored now, and stick my head out of the door to see what’s going on. Not a lot. I sit in the threshold so I can make a quick dash for the bed again if either of my mummies see me.

17:26pm: I wake to see a giant figure looming over me, it’s Mummy El, all 5 feet of her. I must have fallen asleep. My eyes widen, my ears bolt upwards and I make a mad dash for the bed, but a well-placed foot stops me, I’m shooed out of the room and the door’s closed behind me. Tino – 1, Mummies – 1.

Come back tomorrow and see if I can get the score back in my favour!

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Hello readers! Some people have wondered exactly what I get up to all day so I thought I’d give you a blow by blow of what goes on during a day in the life of a super cool bunny.

8:00am-ish: The covers get pulled back on my hutch and I prepare myself for the grizzly sight of my mummies first thing in the morning. They open the lid and stick their head in, and depending on my mood they either get eager nosey kisses or a grunt. Then it’s closed back down.

I’m not a morning person

8:05am: I have a yawn, a stretch and stare dozily at the fish tank, trying to wake myself up and get ready for the day while my mummies have breakfast. I might have a nibble on a few nuggets.

Having a yawn

8:50am: Have a wash.

The right way to start the day

9:00am: The lid gets opened up again, my mummies build my little ramp and I mull over whether or not to come out.

Shall I or shan’t I?

9:01am: Decision made, I hop out.

9:02am: I get my first telling off of the day for trying to get under the bed.

There I go!

9:03am: I get my second telling off of the day for getting under Mummy J’s desk.

9:05am: Have a wash.

9:15am: I go to sit with Mummy El in the living room and watch a bit of breakfast television; The Wright Stuff, not Jeremy Kyle. If I wanted to see a couple of noisy birds screeching at each other I’d go and hang out with the parrots.

9:45am: Mid-show, I have a wash.

You can never be too clean

10:30am: I get cracking on my blog.

Blogging

11:00am: I check Facebook. Feel free to ‘friend’ me!

11:12am: It’s time for a power nap.

Mmmm… Cosy…. Zzzzzz

11:23am: I wake up and have a big yawn, then I have a post-nap wash.

Not forgetting my feet

11:24am: Feeling peckish, I go to my toy and see what treats have been left for me in there.

Foraging

11:26am: Time to check out whether the spare bedroom door is open.

11:31am: See if it’s open now.

11:36am: See if it’s open now.

11:39am: See if it’s open now.

11:42am: Check a different door.

11:45am: I resign from door checking and eat my pain and frustration. Well, I eat my nuggets.

11:50am: I have my post-snack wash.

12:00pm: Feeling dozy, I sleep off my meal.

12:15pm: I wake up and have my obligatory post-sleep wash.

12:25pm: Feeling energised I stretch my legs and go for a run and a frolic.

12:40pm: Feeling less energised, I throw myself down in a big, exhausted heap.

Shattered

12:43pm: Feeling rested, I get up and have a wash.

13:00pm: I look longingly down the stairs as my mummies go for their lunch break, then I have a think about how I can wreak havoc in their absence.

Don’t leave me… Who’ll tell me off?

Come back tomorrow to see what I got up to in the afternoon – that’s when the fun really started!

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Today it’s just me, myself and I. And Frodo. And the parrots. And the fish.

My mummies have gone out for the day to something called a Vowel Removal. No, wait, a Valve Renewal, no, wait, a Vow Renewal! Apparently two of Mummy El’s best friends have been married for 10 years and love each other sooooo much that they want to do it all over again.

Can you imagine loving the same person for 10 whole years? That’s crazy. My English Nana and Grandad have been married for 31 years and my German Oma and Opa have been married for 33 years – that’s, like, 3 lifetimes for a bunny!

My mummies scrubbed up quite nicely for this do; they put smart clothes on, did their hair, put that funny coloured stuff on their faces… It made a right change from seeing them in trackies, Mummy El with her hair tied back and Mummy J with her hat on.

The last time they took their trackies off

So, since I’m under house arrest, well, hutch arrest I’m not sure what to do with myself. I’ve had a wash, had a nibble, had a doze, had a drink, had another wash… They could’ve left the TV on for me. There’s nothing else for it than to have a nice sleep and dream of all the mischief I’m going to get in with my puppy!

Sweet Dreams

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