Easter 2011: The Bun Life's Open Letter to Those Who Are Considering Getting a Bunny for Easter

It is that time of year again, and Easter is just around the corner on April 24th of 2011. Because of all the joy rabbits have brought into my life, I have always felt that as rabbit lovers, we are the first line of defense when it comes to educating the public about rabbits, and what it really takes to keep them as an indoor pet.

Being a supporter of the House Rabbit Society, I only agree with keeping rabbits indoors like any other domesticated animal (yes, they can be litter trained AND free range just like my 3 are). If you can't keep them anywhere but in a wooden drawer outside in the cold, or in the hot, bug infested weather, then there is no reason to have a rabbit, right?

Every year, without fail, all rabbit rescues around the country get thousands of abandoned rabbit calls from people who bought the rabbit for their kid as an Easter present, and now the kid doesn't want it. If the rescue can't take the rabbit, then the owner lets it loose and dumps it in the woods. Domesticated bunnies have ZERO skills that their wild counterparts do.

All they really do is hide and run long enough to get lucky and starve to death, instead of being eaten alive. They are at the THE BOTTOM of the food chain; meaning everything out there with them is trying to eat them, and they have little defense, especially compared to the wild rabbits. This is a recipe for disaster, and 100% evil and cruel. There are countless reasons why a rabbit is not a good impulse present:

• They live more than 10 full years on average. So, if your daughter or son is in 8th grade now, they will have the responsibility of caring for the bunny even when they graduate from college. They aren't cute little babies for long; then they are a full-sized pet from then on. This is when they lose their novelty for the young kids who don't know any better, and accidentally "let themselves out".
• If you made a list of every kind of pet, and then tried to find the one domesticated indoor pet that was the absolute highest amount of maintenance, a bunny would be near the top. They have complex diets, hay and pellets and water daily. Not to mention cleaning up the hair and stray pellets of poop.
• Bunnies have an extremely complicated and delicate digestive system. Stasis is up there for the most prolific killer of bunnies, and it is hard to detect until it is too late. This means that regular checkups, at least once every 6 months, are needed. This all costs money.
• Rabbits are NOT child safe pets. They are, for the most part, afraid of being picked up (especially my Frannie); which makes sense, because in the wild being picked up means being eaten. Children are clumsy and unsure of themselves when they first start interacting with a new pet; but rabbits have an extremely light skeletal system that is largely hollow and is less dense than a cat's. It is VERY common for a child to try and pick up or hold a bunny and it falls from fright or by mistake, and suffers a broken back. There is nothing that can be done after that, they must be put down (the rabbit, not the kid). 
• If you are a person who is very vain about their house and furniture (which isn't an insult), then having a rabbit might not be a good idea, because they have a penchant for chewing wires, couches, molding, carpets, and anything else. Sure, with training and rabbit-proofing your place properly, this can be mitigated, but not if you aren't expecting it.
• Rabbits multiply like Gremlins at a 4 a.m. smorgasbord. Unless fixed, they will quickly turn from 2 bunnies into half a trillion bunnies. Wow, how lucky you are to have a zillion offspring bestowed onto thou??
• Rabbits are known to be government witnesses for the bunny mafia who have been placed into the Witness Relocation Program while cooperating with known criminal bunnies. 

Okay no, that last one was a lie, but you can see where I am coming from. Now for the flip side. By reading that list you might think I am telling you that rabbits suck and to never to get one. With the exception of Frannie, I mean nothing of the sort. They are wonderful animals, and can bring you much joy for years, but the reason for all of this is to show you that adopting a rabbit is something that needs to be given serious thought. If you have considered all of these things, and found a way for them to work with your family, then by all means go and adopt a rabbit. 

I ask all of you to never adopt a bunny on Easter Sunday, it is a testament to our feelings for the rabbit's plight, and to do our best to get this point across to the public.

And one more big thing: if you do get a bunny, please adopt one from a rescue. Pet stores want your money, and that's it. Rescues care about the bunnies, not profit. Volunteers work their butts off for nothing but the satisfaction of helping a bunny find a home that wouldn't have found it otherwise. Thank you and have a nice holiday!

The Bun Life - Guess Who's Profile Was On BunMatch.com????

I can’t believe it, I went online and apparently Frannie placed a singles ad on Bunmatch.com! Can you believe that? Here check out her ad, it is really crazy:

Me on the Left, Just Ignore My Ex on the Right

Name: Baby Fwan (people just call me Baby Fwan for short)
Age: “You wish!”
Gender: Female
Race: “Yes, I’m Really Fast”
Location: Livingroom and ½ of the Dining room
Education: I Watch a lot of Discovery Channel
Occupation: Full-time Certified House Rabbit
Salary: Two Bags of Western TH per week
Favorite Band: Tumpie Rabbits and the Five Whatchamacallits
Favorite Bagel : Pumpernickel (duh)
Marital Status: Divorced

Personal Section

What is your reason for joining BunMatch?

I am getting old, almost REAL old, and I was in a relationship that was going nowhere. No seriously, we went nowhere, if there wasn’t the occasional trip to under the couch I don’t think I would’ve been able to hold my sanity. I want to meet someone that I can talk to, on the same level as I am intellectually. My ex is a total retard. Cute, white and fluffy yes, but common sense? Nada. He was constantly putting me in situations where I would get picked up, have my nails cut, get my hair brushed! They were HORRIBLE experiences, Jim should be arrested and put away in prison for life for the trauma he caused me.

What is Your Ideal Mate?

A buck who works, pays the bills, can provide a roof over my head, preferably a Cottontail Cottage but it isn’t a deal breaker. I know not everyone can afford such luxuries. Man, I would even settle for an empty 2-liter supermarket box, I hear most of the low-class shelter buns have only that for comfort. He should be decent looking, yes, but that isn’t the most important factor. He must live with a human who DOESN’T PICK ME UP, that is THE most important thing in life to me, before food or shelter even. Also, he can’t be STUPID!

Write a Quick Message to Your Potential Mates Out There

Hi, I enjoy long walks on the carpet, and watching the sunset from under the couch. I am an easy gal to get along with, just no face-humping or getting me picked up, Homie don’t play that.

The Bun Life - My Nephew Stephen..The Little Engine That Could

Actually, he is more like "The Little Engine That Could Not Stop Crying Every Time He Sees Me!!" Well, first off, let me acquaint you with "HIM", better known as Stephen, my nephew:

Don't let the cute button nose and infectious laugh fool you, this baby has brought me to the brink of despair more than once!! He would make a great commercial acting baby, because you can make him cry on cue, on demand anytime you want, for any length of time.

"How is that even possible?" you ask? Okay, well even if you didn't really ask that, I am going to answer it anyway. It is possible, a virtual guarantee, as sure a thing as Old Faithful, that to get Stephen to cry on demand, you simply need to alert him to my presence! Did you think it would be more complex than that?

Well, no sir. He could be immersed in happiness, love, endless bottles, run of the house unabated, attention non-stop 24/7, but the second he realizes he is staring at my ugly mug, boom! The tears start flowing! I am not talking about regular crying here, from the outside it sounds like I am pulling his teeth out with a blow torch and a pair of rusty bolt-cutters.

Me and my sister discussed this at length, and we have come to the conclusion that the best way to handle this situation is to simply tell him that I am the devil. Yup, it's quick, it's painless (well, for him it is anyway, my future mental health not withstanding), and most of all, it builds a solid foundation for mine and his relationship later on in life to blossom, you know, sort of like how Jim Jones and his people did.

The Bun Life - Diner Left Overs, and the Case of the Paper Bag Bandit

I was home last night, banging my skull against the wall repeatedly so I could relax and transfix into a Zen state. I had to top off Baby Fwan's and Thumper's litter box with fresh hay. Of course, as soon I take one step in their direction, Frannie packs up and leaves town. Both of them head for their cage, and ultimately both wind up cowering behind the litter box. Ok, I think, let me just top off the box and let them munch on the hay. However, things are never simple when your life is controlled by a loaf of pumpernickel bread.

Thumper is the all-time worst bully I have ever seen. Any time they are enclosed in a small area, he relentlessly face humps poor Frannie non-stop. She puts up with it, and puts up with it, and puts up with it, then to get away from him she starts circling the cage (because she won't run out because I am standing near the cage), and we all know circling leads to a fight. I backed up and even went into the other room to make her feel safe to run out of the cage.

She just plain and simple would NOT exit the cage. I approach with the hay bag, and Thumps starts drilling her on cue, and things reached that critical point where Frannie exceeds her "Amount of crap I will tolerate from Thumper" hard limit. The switch had been thrown. Frannie tussled with Thumper, even nipping him on the back. He gets the hell out of dodge immediately. One point for the pumpernickel team.

The day before last I came home to see the entire cage (which is placed full fit into the corner of the room) pulled away from the far wall. Frannie was stuffed in between the wall and cage, as peaceful as anything. They just love being snuggled and stuffed into tight places because of their wild nature, the same thing goes for them loving to hide under something, it makes them feel more secure about birds snatching them up. I have seen her pull crates and playpens by gripping it with her teeth and then pulling. They can be very persistent.

Then earlier tonight I order something for takeout from the local diner. They put everything in a supermarket style brown paper bag. I go home and eat it, and I leave the paper bag standing straight up on the couch while I use the restroom. While in the rest room, I hear familiar sounds, typical sounds of my bunnies working on a new construction project. I wasn't worried. When I walked into the living room, I see the bag is half of what it used to be, and I see a pumpernickel pom-pom peering out from the back. Guess who is in there? Yup, my Mom. No just kidding, FRANNIE OF COURSE!

Boy, she sure knows how to entertain herself, that's for sure. She hardly ever does "The Crazies" anymore, but I realized that she does it mostly when I am asleep. I hear the noise from the other room of her doing two thousand laps around the apartment. I have always wanted to get it on video. Most bunnies run around a little, do some binkies, but she does all kinds of stuff. I think a lot of it is her playing out certain situations, like being chased, etc. I am considering putting a little webcam in the corner and then see what she does when I am not home.

I tell ya, when I adopted Frannie, I never could've imagined what she was really like. Her personality is so unique, most things she does are often trivial at best, until you think about it for a while; then it all makes sense :)

The Bun Life - Wow, Truly Wow

I have been cleaning out my apartment, moving stuff around, etc. I had two empty cardboard boxes, they were already broken down so I could fold them and reuse them in the future. I got sidetracked and left one on the table and one fell on the floor under the table, with a foot of it sticking out.

Now Frannie and Thumps hate the linoleum floor and will not use it to grab a shortcut regardless of whatever they are running from. Well, all that changed, for Fran it did at least. SHe started darting across the kitchen linoleum in order to avoid being picked up. The problem was that she slipped and slid everywhere, so it was only something she would do if absolutely necessary.

Anyway, I woke up to find the one box that fell off the table completely stretched out length wise, which was just barely enough to cover the distance of the gap. I look at Frannie and she was hopping around like she solved world hunger. WIth the cardboard bridge that she built, she can then cross over the kitchen gap to avoid the linoleum floor altogether.

Don't believe me if you want, it is true regardless of what anyone thinks. What shocks me are the following facts:

1. She is aware that she has been stopped in her getaways by the linoleum floor.

2. She knows that she can nmake it across, but it is very scary and she could get hurt or splay her legs or something.

3. Uses the box as a way to solve this issue, what should astonish anyone is the solving of a PAST problem, and anticipation of a FUTURE one.

She knows she can go around, but wants to use it in order to make the getaway quicker. Needless to say, I am stunned.

The Bun Life - Persistance and Poise

After the cage was cleaned out last night, cardboard was placed throughout along with computer printing paper that I like to use because it has no ink and wont stain their feet. Then I sat down and was gonna watch a movie. Now mind you, the cage is to my left and mere 6 feet.

I swear, from the very nano second that the DVD started, and all the way to the last credit at the end, Frannie spent the entire time biting, chewing, thrashing, and shredding every piece of paper and cardboard in the damn cage. Then she hopped in the litterbox and ate about 12 pounds of hay all by herself, I guess so Thumper wouldn't have any when he went in it.

I had taken off my shoes and socks before the movie started, and after the movie ended, which I heard none of by the way, I leaned over to put my socks and shoes on. Well, now I have one sock, not two. Would you believe that Frannie dragged it under the couch with her. I was wondering what was being chewed and ripped while she was under there. I assumed she was eating the couch from the inside out like she always does, nope. My sock was history.

Then I go to give them a carrot each, and Frannie takes hers and eats it, then runs up and grabs Thumper's carrot and ran away with it under the cardboard mazes I have. I still don't know who won that incident, but someone did.

Then I come home from the store, and I hear a scratching sound coming from the towel linen closet. I opened it up and out hopped Frannie, she must have broke in there and then I closed the door by mistake. No danger or anything, it has lights and decent room. But it is definitely off limits so I was surprised to see her there.

Then I wanted to run the Shop Vac, so I had to pen them in with a playpen for a few minutes so they don't chew the wire. I took a bowl of some pellets and placed it down in the middle of the playpen, of course Thumper strolled right into the pen and I closed it off so I could keep them separate for the 5 minutes or so. I did the same food trick with Frannie, and she was giving me one of those looks that a dog gives you when he is uncertain of what he is hearing. You know, where they crook their head sideways to try and determine what it is you want.

Well, Fran sat still as a stone with that look towards me. She was telling me that there was no way in hell she was going in the pen. I ultimately snuck up on her ten minuites later and got her in the pen, but man what a hassle! Who knew one pumpernickel bunny could cause this much chaos, lol? I just marvel at how rabbits have the 411 on everything in their domain. They know every fiber, twig, corner, and crumb and where they should each be at any given time. Anything different, I mean anything, and they are immediately aware of it. I guess they are like that due to being at the bottom of the food chain.

The Bun Life - You Know the Economy is Bad When You See This..

Wow, I can't believe I finally have to go through with this sale, but we need the money for Sydney's dental work, he is getting two gold teeth implanted next week. Boy, this is what they call "Roughin it" right?

CLICK THE PICTURE TO ENLARGE, AND THEN ZOOM IN IF NEED BE ON THE LARGE ONE, IN CASE YOUR BROWSER IS NOT ZOOMED IN ALL THE WAY

The Bun Life - Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave

If you watch TV ever, then you will at some point see commercials advertising the website Ancestry.com and the things that people find out about their ancestors on there. They usually feature some people who talk about heroes they were related to, or their Uncle was born a slave and died a businessman. It was really touching at some parts; both I and Baby Fwan needed at least one Kleenex when it came on. Anyway, to get back to my pointless story, me and the buns (or the buns and I, or myself and thy group of buns, or more formal I could say Thy Buns and Thyself) decided to sign-up there and see what’s what. After all, they say that “you don’t need to know exactly what you are looking for; you just have to start looking.” Kinda like copping drugs in the city. Anyway, here is what we have learned about us so far:


Myself

I found out that my brother’s uncle’s adopted illegitimate son’s neighbor’s son actually cared for the dog who was once owned by the adopted son’s Great Great Uncle, who was related, through marriage, to the late Siamese twin sister of the owner of Pap’s Bakery, whose mother once prostituted herself to the famous Nostradamus, after his family died of the Black Plague of course. I can’t tell you how honored I feel that I am so closely related to a prophetic legend. Oh and I found out that my fifth removed Grandfather was Vito Corleone’s right-hand man. I mean that literally; when he knew him Vito Corleone didn’t have a right hand, so he needed my great granddad to do all of the tasks that he couldn’t then do with his own right-hand. I can only speak for myself, but I think $400.00 a month for the next twelve years on my Amex card is a miniscule amount in exchange for finding out your true roots.

Thumper

Poor Thumps, we found out that his entire extended family (about 1200 people), going back almost 900 years, had a combined I.Q. of only 34. This had devastating effects on the confidence of Thumper’s relatives, one of them was stabbed in a drive by, one got fired from the M&M factory for throwing away all the W’s, and one even got fired from the jigsaw puzzle factory for throwing out all the broken puzzles that were in pieces. Poor Thumps was born, but his mother didn’t realize she was supposed to keep the baby, so she just handed him over for adoption, along with his 43 other twins born that day. I hate to admit it, but anyone related to Thumper was doomed to spend an eternity of being stupid. Poor Thumps.

Baby Fwan

Following Baby Fwan’s lineage was one of the more interesting ones that I did. I found out that both of Frannie’s parents were Polish Yahtzee champions, who toured Poland during the 1950’s and ..uh..well..play Polish Yahtzee I guess. Incredibly, Frannie’s Great Great Great Grandmother Aunt Gertrude, was genetically altered, having her DNA spliced with the nucleus from a pumpernickel bagel, thus creating the interesting characteristics we see on Frannie today. Apparently, having steel wool for whiskers was a totally unexpected turn out. They felt she was worth the trouble, so they turned a blind eye to the mistakes. When Fran was young, her aunt and the cast of Different Strokes robbed a string of nursing homes at gun point, very troubling. Also, all of the women in Frannie’s side were fat just like Frannie is, and 60% of them also had detachable flying ears as well, so I thought that was pretty neat. One thing I realized from all this, is that I finally realized all of the realizations I had been putting off for a while, and now I finally realize it and I’m putting a stop to it.

Sydney aka “Public Bunny Enemy Number One” aka “Sydney the Bull” aka “The Great Dwarf Hope” aka “The Netherland Crusher” aka “Get ‘r Bun”

Last but certainly not least is the little guy, aka Dr. Freckles and Mr. Jive because of his two-face reputation. It turns out that Sydney is related, by blood, to a retarded African Chimpanzee named “Wee Wee”. I know I know, it is sounds crazy, but hear me out, it’s true. Wee Wee frequently charges at her gate head first and totally sacrifices his body for the ultimate prize, which is killing you :) The rest of Syd’s family tree got uprooted by Hurricane Muhammad, so my research ended there, a shame but what can I do right?

Boy, this sure is a small world when you have a gaggle of booby rabbits.

The Bun Life – Adventures of Bun Life Buns, Installment One

I am sure you always wondered what your bunnies would say if they could speak to you or one another in English, right? Well, either way, I have quite a few thoughts on how their conversations would flesh out, so without further a due, I present The Adventures of Bun Life Buns Installment One:

BF=Baby Fwan, TR= Thumper

BF: “Hey Thumps, over here you idiot! No, not over there, OVER HERE. I can’t believe this, how can you not find me when we are in the same room together?”

TR: “Duh, well, I am tracking your voice, not looking for you visually as much. Still can’t find you, let me try this – MARCO!”

BF: “Oh god, how stupid. …POLO!”

TR: “MARCO!”

BF: “POLO! For Pete’s sake! I see you, I am directly to your left!”

TR: “Where? I don’t see you at all. MARCO!!”

BF: “Your LEFT, not RIGHT! Your other side!”

TR: “Oh, hey, now I see you. MARCO!”

BF: “Stop saying MARCO, you found me already.”

TR: “Okay, gees, talk about grumpy. I swear, all you pumpernickel women have zero patience.”

BF: “Well, it is better than having zero of everything else, like you.”

TR: “Whatever, lets spoon over here in front of the TV, this way we can watch each other’s backs, in case Jim tries to pick us up or something.”

BF: “Okay.”

--------- 2 Hours Pass ----------

BF: “Thumps, wake up, let’s switch positions, the carpet is practically roasting my belly.”

TR: “Duhh, fine I guess. Hey you feel like chewing up anything of Jim’s? Maybe some computer or speaker wires maybe?”

BF: “No, you know I have my Picker Upper’s Anonymous meeting tonight, so why are you even asking? Wait, I take that back, you’re stupid so it makes perfect sense that you forgot already.”

TR: “Whatever. How is that going by the way? Get your 7-day chip tonight?”

BF: “Yeah, been a whole 7 days since I was last picked up, I am hesitant to celebrate, since this is my 60^th 7-day chip. Oh well, I’ll make the most of it.”

TR: “Listen, you should be proud, you can’t help it if Jim or someone else picks you up really. Well, you can, but if they get to pick you up after a chase, then you’ve done your best and should leave it up to your higher power.”

BF: “Higher power? Who would that be, the House Rabbit Society, or the Bunny Buddha?”

TR: “Whoever you want to believe it is, it is imperative that you believe your own bullshit brainwashing, so that you can heal.”

BF: “Okay, enough already, can we talk about something else please? How is the renovation under the couch going, making good progress?”

TR: “Not a whole lot, we can only run the power tools when Jim is asleep or not home, so chances have been minimal. We did get 90% of the stuffing underneath removed.”

BF: “Now you know that was my doing, stop trying to take credit for it.”

TR: “We have agreed on a cease-fire with El Lunatico in the other room though, I am trying to create a good rapport with him, but it is slow going. He is such a psycho that I have trouble even having a civilized conversation with him. I swear, as soon as I walk up to the gate, he starts charging and showing his teeth. I tell you, even though he weighs only 3 ounces, he is a brave little SOB. He don’t scare me though, he has no idea I won three consecutive Golden Paws titles when I was in the service.”

BF: “Service?”

TR: “Yeah, I was a member of the Bunny Brigades back in ’73, but I don’t like to talk about it.”

BF: “God, you are such a numbskull, and now a pathological liar on top of it. Man, if Jim only knew how big of a contrast there is between your fluffy white coat and your horrible character. Sometimes I don’t know why we even got bonded.”

TR: “You have no idea how much that day meant to me though. What day was that again?”

…To Be Continued  

The Bun Life - Happy New Year, & the Extras That Come WIth Living in an Apartment Complex

2011, wow, what a shock. It feels like only yesterday it was 2010, boy time flies when you could care less about anything. Anyway, I figured I would share this "situation" I have living in my apartment here. You see, I have neighbors of course, to my left, to my right, and above. The left and right ones are transparent like me, never make a sound beyond the normal daily living quirks. But the ones above, a couple in their 30's, are totally different. Just to note, they are actually really nice and friendly, and always have a smile and a friendly greeting when I see them. However, it is not seeing them that is the issue, it is hearing them. By the sounds of things, you would think they were taping the sequel to Boogie Nights up there. At least 5 or 6 times a week, they go at it, and go at it, and go at it. I don't know where they find time for anything else. I wouldn't even notice, had they not have their room right above my living room. Call me crazy, but I know for sure that they know I can hear them, because more than once I have tried to make it known such as saying in passing, "Up late last night huh?" or something to that effect. They just smile and nod or whatever, but that is as far as the conversation goes.

Talk about weird, I've almost grown accustomed to it, and have even started to schedule my nights around their prime time romping. I was thinking of inviting people over, charging them twenty bucks each, hire a bouncer, and even start a website, you know, make a night of it. Recently things have started to take a bizarre turn in the Playboy mansion upstairs though. Evidently there has been some role playing going on, I think so because a lot of the conversation makes no sense. For example, the wife couldn't have "just got home from cheerleading practice" because she graduated a long time ago. Damn pre-verts. I feel like yelling one night, "Come on, for Christ's sake, we have young bunnies down here!" I wonder sometimes who she is talking to, me or him, I find myself answering her questions, "you like that?" then from my apartment, "Yup! Just like that!" Okay, that is a lie, but it could happen! On the weekends there seems to be an overtime session as well, afterwards even I need a cigarette, and I don't smoke. Okay, back to work here, I sure hope none of this is added to my rent. :)