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So, how was it for everyone? Mine was stressful! It’s such hard work being good for so many consecutive days. It’s a drawn-out affair in our house, being as we’re a bit multicultural over here. First, Nikolaus came and brought Knecht Ruprecht with him. Now, the good news is that I didn’t get hit with a stick, but the bad news is that I didn’t get any presents either. Mummy J got loads of chocolate and Tucker got something from Nik, but Mummy El and I ended up missing out. Apparently, you don’t get stuff if you don’t speak German.

I don't know why Nik likes shoes. Sometimes it pays to have big feet!

I don’t know why Nik likes shoes. Sometimes it pays to have big feet!


I think it’s greedy to get a toy AND a stick

Then, it was time for the decorations and the tree to make an appearance, along with an influx of brown boxes arriving at the door. Since things started coming through the door with my name on them earlier in the year, allegedly, that my mummies had, allegedly, not ordered, and they, allegedly, found bunny-shaped tooth marks in their debit cards, they have changed their passwords on their online shop accounts. Allegedly. The long and the short of it is, I was unable to buy them any gifts this year, but as Mummy El always waxes lyrical that I’m the best gift she’s ever received, I thought what better than to give her that gift all over again, and took up residence under the tree.

Pine's tasty, if you don't mind bleeding gums

Pine’s tasty, if you don’t mind bleeding gums.

Then Christmas came early. No, really. A day early. It’s that whole German thing again; apparently, they can’t wait until Christmas Day, so we had a Skype conference with my German grandparents, my mummies exchanged gifts and I got my presents from them too.

Can you guess what it is?

Can you guess what it is?

It was a Kong!

It was a Kong!

And this one?

And this one?

My favourite - Cardboard! Oh, and it had some apple and biscuit dari thing with it.

My favourite – Cardboard! Oh, and it had some apple and biscuit dari thing with it.

Anyway, it was all very exhausting so I opted to stay in my cage for the main event the next day. I didn’t miss out though, my Nana brought me a brill pressie up in the afternoon! I got my favorite wicker balls – 3 of them! I was a very spoilt bunny!

And we got a very special gift from Alfie; he sent us a picture of my little bro, Tucker!

He makes that hat look good.

He makes that hat look good.

A belated Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you had as good a festive season as me!


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That Tucker is one lucky pup. He’s only got his own car! You remember I told you they’d put down a deposit on a car I found for them? Well, it’s now sat gleaming in our driveway, and Mummy J sits proudly behind the wheel of the Pupmobile (I’m sounding a fanfare in my head).

Good looking, nippy and sporty. Remind you of anyone?

Good looking, nippy and sporty. Remind you of anyone?

I haven’t been in it yet, and to be honest, I’m in no rush to. It doesn’t have anything to with Mummy J’s driving, but whenever they put me in a car the journey ends at the self same place – the V-E-T.

Tucker‘s going to love going to the beach and the woods in this bad boy, and Mummy J has bought him his own special seat. Well, technically, it’s a seat cover and I think it’s more for her benefit than his. It’s a nice, heavy duty, bespoke cover to put all the way over the back seats to protect them from mucky paws. I’ve never needed anything like that; we all know how much pride I take in my personal hygeine.

Insert puppy here.

Insert puppy here.

Tucker has a ton of new stuff, but his very own transport is definitely the best! I’m the official product tester for his things so I might show you some of them later on. But I’m not getting in that car. I just can’t risk it.

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Okay, so yesterday I brought you some good news – some brilliant news, but now I have to give you the not so good news – the terrible news. When Tucker was only 2 days old, we were celebrating new life, but little did we know that a life very close to us was coming to an end. My (little) big bro Frodo passed away. He was very very old and had made a mockery of his supposed life-expectancy by more than doubling it, but it was still a bit of a shock, even though we were semi-preparing ourselves.

It seemed like the older he got the more his character developed, and the more life and energy he had. The weekend before he passed he was out in his ball causing havoc in a way I can only dream of. He was running amok everywhere, tripping people over, getting stuck in small, tight spaces, exploring far away corners of the house I’m never likely to find… We all miss the little guy, but we can try to console ourselves with the fact that he had a very long, fulfilling, happy life, and he wasn’t poorly and didn’t suffer at the end.

Night night, Frodo. Thanks for being my bro and my pal.



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I know, I know, it’s been a long time, but shall we just say there’s been some stuff happening and everyone’s been kinda busy. Also, I have to admit, when there wasn’t so much stuff going on I took the opportunity to be a bit lazy, and when wasn’t lazing my technical adviser was. Hence, no blogging.

The good news is though, I’ve got plenty of stuff to talk about, so we can have a few good catch-up sessions! So, first things first, I’ll just jump in with the best and most exciting news. Are you ready? Are you sure? Okay, here we go… My puppy‘s been born! Yep! You read it right! On November 19th , the awesome and gorgeous Shadow gave birth to 3 boys and 2 girls and she said that one of the boys could be my new baby bro! Now, I want you to prepare yourselves, because you’re about to see something extremely cute. Almost as cute as me. This is my bro.

Tucker (born Bossanova) with his mummy, Shadow

Tucker (born Bossanova) with his mummy, Shadow (Photo courtesy of Alfiedog.me.uk)

 My buddy Alfie and his mum/human/mistress say that Tucker’s really sweet and loves his cuddles. It looks like they might be right!

 Tucker is the cuddler in the back. (Photo courtesy of Alfiedog.me.uk)

Tucker is the cuddler in the back. (Photo courtesy of Alfiedog.me.uk)

So, what makes this puppy so special and different from all the others? Good question! Well, first of all, he is mine, mine, mine! I mean, I might share him with my mummies sometimes, like, when he wants to go for a walk, or has a whoopsie on the carpet, or it’s feeding time, or when he wants to play fetch – I can fetch myself, thank you very much! But when it comes to the important stuff like cuddles, they will have to form an orderly queue behind me.

Now, there are 2 more very unique things about Tucker that not only make him special but also prove beyond any reasonable doubt that he was always destined to be mine. As you may know, dogs have only got 4 toes on their back feet, right? Not my Tucker! Tucker the Wonder Dog has got big feet, just like me! He’s got 5 toes on his back plodders! His extra toes look a bit like thumbs and given the brains of him and his kind, he might just find a way to put those thumbs to good use!

The other way we know he was meant to come and live with us is his kinked tail. You remember my awesome big bro, Geordi? He had a kinked tail too, and he was my best buddy ever. He was gentle and loving and we just had tons of fun. We were a good team. So, Tucker’s not un-bunny-like feet and a tail to match Geordi’s have got to be signs, right?

Me and Geords, planning our next move.

Me and Geords, planning our next move.

As regular readers may recall, Alfie and his family live in York, so it’s a bit too far for me to go to see Tucker and introduce myself, so Alfie helped me find another way to say hi to him. It’s way better than the stupid way standy-uppy people do it. What do you learn by shaking someone’s hand and exchanging pleasantries? You’ve got to get straight in there with your nose! So my mummies got me a nice clean flannel, folded it up neatly and plonked it in my cage. Then I made sure to sit on it for a few weeks to really get my scent ground in, and then made sure I got as much hair on it as possible. It turns out that my moulting efforts were for nothing as Mummy El said that it was very rude to deposit your hair all over someone else’s house, and got as much of the loose stuff off as she could. Oh well, at least the old eau de Tino is there to stay.

The parents saw what a good idea it was and followed suit; they got him a little comforter and made sure to get plenty of their stink on that too (emphasis on the stink). Alfie‘s got the stink rags with him now, and every day little Tucker has a few minutes alone with them so he can get to know us the proper way.


Tucker taking in our smells. Better him than me. (Photo courtesy of Alfiedog.me.uk)

The puppies turned 4 weeks old yesterday and they’re already 3 times as heavy as me! Chubsters! I can’t wait for my mummies to bring him home so I can meet him, but until then I’m keeping a close eye on Alfie’s pupdates over at alfiedog.me.uk, and watching them get up to plenty of mischief on the live puppycam!

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I’ll have to try and keep this brief as I have to prepare, but I have a very important business meeting to attend this afternoon. I am now on career venture number 5 since I started blogging, but I think this one has legs, and it’s the only one which has had the full and unwavering support of both of my mummies.

Now, you’ll understand that I can’t give too much away as it’s very much in its infancy, but I’ve come up with an idea for a range of dog biscuits. They’re not just any old dog biscuits, but I can’t tell you what makes them special just yet. I know they’re yummy though – not that I’ve tried them personally.

My mummies whipped up a batch under my careful instruction and we sent them out to Alfie and the crew up North, Wimbledon Alfie and my gorgeous girlfriend, Bella, and we used them to bribe Louis the Slug Tzu when he came over. Also, my mummies gave some to their friend, Chester, but I’m not allowed to meet him because he’s half Beagle, half Fox Hound and they’re worried he might eat me. He gave the treats two paws up as well, so that was all good news.

Chester. Does that look like the face of a killer to you?

So, today, we’re having the man from Trading Standards come over and help us with all the boring stuff like Health and Safety, Food Labelling, Testing and Analysis and stuff like that. That’s hurdle number one. I’m an excellent hurdler, but my mummies aren’t so great at it, so I just have to hope that this one doesn’t trip them right at the start. They’re worried about the same thing as always: expense. We’ll see.

Obviously, I’ll be heading the meeting but I’m having them come along because Mummy El has very neat handwriting so can make excellent, legible notes, and Mummy J can be the drinks monitor and keep everyone supplied with tea and coffee. I’ve got their outfits picked out so that they look professional but not too over the top. I’ve gone with smart/casual, that can never be wrong.

I, myself, will be going as-is; I may have them run a brush through my hair, but that’ll be about all. Mummy El wants me to tone down my mohawk so I look a little less ‘out there’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. This coming from the tattooed lady with more metal in her ears than is strictly necessary for one person – or even two or three people really.

Me sporting my cool do.

I’m not changing who I am, I’m keeping the mowie. I think it shows that I’ve got spunk and character.

Anyway, watch this space for new on my progress becoming a bunny CEO! Wish us luck!

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Today, I am well and truly pooped. I woke up full of beans yesterday, much to Mummy El’s chagrin, and spent all day bounding around, making the most of my free-range status.

See, apparently – violins at the ready – she’d been up most of the night. I didn’t know anything about it because I was busy sleeping, but by 8am I was feeling refreshed and lively but she was feeling exactly the opposite. I think it was down to the fact that she’s still creaking about the place holding her back like someone two and a half times her age, so she wasn’t really up to dealing with my so-called antics.

She was laid flat-out on the sofa with a face like a bulldog and I did a bit of athletics training! I love those days; she’s like a cross between a bouncy castle, a climbing frame and a springboard. And a toilet, but I’ll get onto that later.

So, I spent the majority of the morning doing laps of the living room, then jumping up and down, on and off the sofa and Mummy El, and then used her as a trampoline and bounce up onto the windowsill and do my bit for Neighbourhood Watch. Once I was satisfied that all was well with the workmen over the road I hopped back down and tried to find some trouble.

I didn’t find trouble, but I did find a new toy! It’s called a bucket and it’s got this handle thing on it. Mummy J uses the handle to carry it around, but she’s missed a trick, because it’s way more fun to take the handle in your mouth and then throw it up in the air. Then, you get your head out of the way – quick! – before it comes crashing back down and makes a really cool, really loud noise! You can balance it on your head as well, and then jump up in the air, and throw it that way; it’s very versatile. I considered getting in the bucket for a minute, but then I thought it too closely resembled a bin, and I’ve had bad experiences with those.

I accidentally binned myself 😦

Anyway, my neck was starting to ache from all the handle-flinging and I thought I’d probably be on thin ice making that much noise with Mummy J working next door (she’s working loads at the minute to fill the giant dent in her account that’ll be there when she has to write a cheque for the pup-mobile), so I thought I’d go and wind up check on Mummy El. She was face-down, flat-out on the sofa and looked a bit lonely and sorry for herself, so I hopped on her back to sit with her and let her know I care.

That’s when I got a good idea. My old bud Geordi told me that an important part of being a dog is to mark things that our yours by, well, relieving yourself on them. I decided that whilst I was in position on Mummy El I may as well give this marking thing a try, (I needed to go anyway and it saved me getting down to use my loo) and my reasons were two-fold. Firstly, I need to start acting a bit more like a dog if I’m going to be big bro and chief role model to a puppy, so I can help bridge the gap between him and our mummies, and secondly, à la Geordi (although he never used this technique on Mummy El), I wanted to let her know she was mine. It all made perfect sense.

The thing is, she was covered up with a blanket because it was pretty chilly, especially if you’re not moving around much (or at all in her case) so she didn’t notice that I’d had a little tinkle on her back. It defeated the object of letting her know she was mine really, because apart from the fact that, well, she didn’t know, I think, technically, only the blanket’s mine now. Mummy J let her know when she came in though, and it didn’t go down as well as I’d hoped. I’ll have to give it a go at some other point and see if I can get them to come round to my way of thinking.

Then I got bored with dull, old, decrepit Mummy El and wanted to go and demand that ask Mummy J if she wanted to pack in work for the day, only she’d shut the door. Now, as you may remember, I figured out how to open the bi-folding door, but they then figured out that if they flattened the hinges my technique doesn’t work, so this time I had to sink my teeth in a rattle the door, HARD. That technique did work, but not in way that I’d hoped. The door did open, but by Mummy J’s hand. There she stood, holding her phone, trying to video my vigorous attempts. Of course, I stopped immediately. I’m a rabbit, not a performing monkey.

I went back to see Mummy El, only to find that she was having a little power-kip! I don’t care that she’d only had 3 hours or so of sleep, I’m the only one who gets to snooze in the day. What about poor Mummy J who has deadlines to meet? She doesn’t get to have forty winks. She doesn’t get to have any winks! So, I did the honourable thing and jumped on Mummy El’s head. That woke her up. Hopefully she’s learnt her lesson.

I spent the evening chilling out with them, nibbling on carrot tops and watching TV, and we watched this really cool show on Animal Planet called “Dogs 101”. You’ll never guess which breed of dog popped up… An Entlebucher! All right, they just put a still photo up (it wasn’t of any of my pals, which is disappointing as all of them are way better looking than the pooch they chose) and the guy’s pronunciation of the breed was a bit wrong, but it’s the first time I’ve seen one on TV! It got me all excited again and I had to keep repeating my mantra… “Don’t count your chickens, Tino. Don’t count your chickens…”

Anyway, it was a fabulous ending to a brilliant day, but I’m going to have to take it easy now for the rest of the week. It was a lot of excitement for a little bunny.

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I’ve been sitting on some news for a very long time now. Well, it feels like an eternity but I think it’s only been 2 or 3 weeks really. You remember I said yesterday that Mummy El tells me not to count my chickens before they’ve hatched? Well, she told me that in relation to this news rather than the car.

See, here’s the thing. I might, might, and I have to stress again, MIGHT be getting my puppy in January.

I’ve told you about my bud, Alfie, before; he lives in a very faraway place called York where they talk like the people off Emmerdale. He’s the Entlebucher who lives with 3 other Entlebuchers. 2 of the others are girls, I’m not sure if they’re housemates or if they’re all adoptive brothers and sisters, but one of the girls is quite mean to him sometimes, which makes me think she’s his sister, and one of them might, might, MIGHT be pregnant with my puppy!

I’m not sure how it all works (my mummies say that it’s grown up stuff) but somehow girl dogs decide a few times a year that they fancy having some puppies, and then their humans/parents take them to meet a boyfriend, and then… Well, then my mummies get fuzzy with the details, but if they’re lucky, their boyfriend gives them puppies!

Megan (the one who must be Alfie’s sister) thought she fancied puppies earlier on this year so went even further away from York than York is from here and met her boyfriend. I think they liked each other and I think he wanted to give her puppies, but it didn’t work out. That’s life, eh?

Alfie tells it much better than me, but the short version of what’s happening now is that when my mummies abandoned me to hug wallabies, Shadow, that’s Alfie’s other girl, decided it was puppy time so her human/mummy/mistress took her all the way to Switzerland to meet a boyfriend, and Megan went along for the ride too. I think she must be very sophisticated and well-travelled. Then, when they were getting ready to come home, Megan decided that she wanted puppies again too!

Being a boy, and too cool to care, I don’t know much about the female psyche, but I’ve heard they’re prone to jealousy and wanting what other girls have got, so I’m going to go with that for the reasoning behind her decision. Mummy El says it’s more likely to be biology, but refuses to clarify the finer points, and I think Nana had been at Mummy El’s painkillers because when I asked her about it she started telling me some rubbish about storks and cabbage patches, so I’m sticking to my theory until somebody can come up with a better one.

Jealousy, biology, giant winged birds, I don’t care! The point is, Megan stayed in Switzerland for a bit longer and met a boyfriend too, so if they’re both carrying puppies, and they both have enough healthy puppies – which is the most important thing in the whole wide world, even more important than me getting a puppy (you have no idea how difficult that was for me to say!) – then their human/mummy/mistress might, might, MIGHT let me bring one home in January!

Now, that’s a lot of ‘might’s. Mummies El and J keep telling me to keep my hair on (which is very difficult for one who moults so profusely) because we don’t even know if either of the girls are pregnant yet, and that’s just the first ‘might’, but a bunny can’t help but dream, can he?

Blogging is exhausting stuff, so I’m off to have a snooze now, I promise to try and count sheep though, not chickens.

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