Bigwig: Aren't you going to silflay?
Chervil: I already have sir.
Bigwig: Did you silflay in the designated area as per the regulations.Chervil: Yes sir. I went to designated corner to silflay and then buried it as per Section 29 Subparagraph 8 the proper disposal of Siflay pellets per se.
Blackavar: [Mumbles] You better believe it. He is a little butt boy following all the rules. Not like when were in the crazy ladies garden where you could wherever you wanted and let it lay around and fester…..[Chervil swipes at him to make him speak up, and he does]
Blackavar: I... I...I can’t take it anymore. This has to stop. Noboby silflay’s like normal rabbits. They can’t just squat and pinch a loaf everywhere and anywhere. It’s not like the old warren. There everyone took a dump whenever and wherever they wanted and that crazy lady never said anything. You could silflay all day and rock and roll all night and nobody cared. The badgers and the trolls and even the gay blue jays just pooped all over the place. It was a free for all. I know Chervil liked that. He hates to clean up after himself. He likes leaving droppings. He thinks people will examine them later and admire them. Even years later.[Chervil glares]
Bigwig. Well I hope you still don’t believe that Chervil. I have been leading patrols over to the old warren to clean up our mess. We want to leave that garden the way we found it. Strawberry and Floppy Ears and I have cleaned up most of your mess. We are almost finished. Nobody will ever know we were there.
Blackavar: Won’t the lady in the cottage notice? I mean she was always stepping in our silflay and getting it on her shoes. I mean she would laugh sometimes because it was so absurd that there were so many droppings. Won’t she notice?
Chervil: Yes my pellets were particularly memorable. They looked like pearls and didn’t even smell. Everyone admired them.
Bigwig: No she won’t notice. She doesn’t notice much actually. Or if she does notice she won’t understand what is going on. And that’s a good thing. She likes to have fun with the farmer who has moved in the house. Sometimes so much fun that she falls right asleep where ever she is. So it is a lot safer over there now. You see Hazel said we might move back there for a while. Or at least some of us. You know to look around. To see if it is safe for us rabbits.
Blackavar; Can I come with you and Strawberry on your next patrol Bigwig. I will be ever so good.
Bigwig: We'll see. Now finish your silflay like a good rabbit and lets go inside. I will let you know what the council decides.
4 comments:
My kids have a pet rabbit. Damn thing looks like a Holstein cow- all black and white and splotchy. A lady at my work (not a work spouse) gave it to me for my kids. My wife hates it. The poor thing lives out in a hutch in the garage where it gets pretty cold at night. But rabbits grow luxuriant coats of fur and they get even thicker in the winter. Wild rabbits live outside in the winter.
The rabbit is actually litter trained and goes in a box in its cage. Rabbits poop on average every 15 minutes according to my son who researched the matter for a school report. Their poop is odorless-it's actually the urine that stinks.
In good weather we let the thing run around in one of those pet corrals outside in the yard. I move this around because the rabbit nibbles down the grass to a stubble while also fertilizing (win-win).
I'm sorry, was that all OT?
According to wisdom of the oft quoted RH: "Rabbits are short on gratitude."
Mama's rabbit peed in a litter box too, but stupidly hopped on his randomly scattered pellets of poop (more like teeny tiny little round mini-muffins than loaves, without the little paper wrapper for protection) so his rear paws were never fresh. Special bunny baths were called for. One day he died of fright. Mama wrapped him up in tissue paper and sent him down the elevator. She pushed him in a Rowena Iron box and sent the Mister to bury it 12 inches under. Sadly she and the doomed bun never learned to play bob stones together or whisper foolish Lapine love phrases in each other's ears.
Had the bun been a goat, the story might have had a different ending.
There was a man, now please to note,
There was a man, who had a goat;
He loved that goat, indeed he did
He loved that goat, just like a kid.
The Goat and the Three Red Shirts
a.k.a. Bill Grogan's Goat
Gay blue jay poop is nasty. Blue jays are bully birds. Cocky, mean attention hogs. They live to drop a load, tip their crested heads and say "Who me?", as innocent as the day is long. Able to mimic humans too.
lolol I just read this for the first time...have we yet to see the limits of thy evil, O Blogfather?
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