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.

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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