Better late than never

Finally! At last I am reunited with my adoring public! Mom has been hogging the computer lately. Something about "essays" and "research papers" and nonsense like that. I can't get a word in edgewise! I will be glad when this semester is over and I have been reinstated to my rightful position as King of the Keyboard!

In other news, it's Christmas, which means piles and piles of presents! Kenzie and I enjoy exploring the mountain of loot, occasionally adding our own special touch to the wrappings. Most of the gifts are addressed to my human cousin, Armando, but there are a couple near the back with MY name on them! Well, Kenzie and my name both. We have to share.

Speaking of sharing, we're still scraping by with just the one Christmas stocking. You would think by now Mom would have gotten around to stitching up one for each of us, but no. Mom has SEVEN of her own stockings hanging around the dining room. She SAYS they're just for decoration and she doesn't really expect Santa to fill them all, but I've seen her eyes glowing with greed as she surveys them.

Speaking of greed, Santa will be lucky to get a plate full of crumbs this Christmas Eve, with the way Mom's been inhaling the Christmas cookies. She doesn't share those, either. Occasionally Kenzie can persuade her to part with a nibble or two. Kenzie's a big fan of oatmeal raisin. I'll stick with my raspberry hay cakes.

A real trooper

Kenzie was a perfect angel today. She endured the poking and prodding like a champ, and the vet didn't even need to sedate her for the X-rays. Her pelvis and spine look perfectly normal. There's no evidence of previous injury, and no damage to the vertebrae or disks. Which is great news on the one hand, but doesn't shed any light on the cause of her semi-paralysis.

I was just glad it was Kenzie on the hot seat instead of me. I didn't even begrudge her the extra slice of banana she scored after the exam. I did not appreciate it when the vet put the two of us on the floor so she could evaluate our gaits, and Kenzie decided that would be a good time to mount me. HER, mounting ME. It's supposed to be the other way around! Oh, my battered dignity.

So Kenzie's condition is still a mystery, and one that's unlikely to be solved anytime soon, at least without benefit of a bunny MRI. The vet said that would run close to a thousand dollars, and might be just as inconclusive as the X-rays. So for the time being, we're going to watch and wait. It might be months before Kenzie has another episode, or maybe *paws crossed* she never will.

Now we are back home, and Kenzie is soothing her frayed nerves with a heaping helping of timothy hay, fresh from the new bale. Granny brought it with her this morning. Granny also brought a big bag of birdseed, which I am eager to get my little jaws around. Mom is in the bedroom taking a nap, "sleeping off the stress" she says, as if SHE was the one getting manhandled today! She says, "It's harder on me than it is on you," which I don't believe for one minute. Neither does Kenzie.

One more day

So Mom is getting nervous. Tomorrow morning Kenzie sees the vet for spinal X-rays, and Mom is wondering how that works. I mean, Kenzie isn't going to just lie there quietly while they stretch her out and snap away. So how WILL they get our girl to cooperate? Mom is envisioning all sorts of gruesome scenarios. She made the appointment for 8:30 in the morning so Kenzie would have all day to recover and hopefully forgive Mom for the ordeal!

In other news, Mom finished her first paper for school. Well, *I* finished it, is more like it. She counts on me to channel her creative muse. It was a fascinating two page study of the strategies of effective technical communication. Okay, it wasn't fascinating, it was dull as dirt. "Just as long as I get an A," Mom says. She's been really enjoying school lately, now that she dropped that horrendous Mathematical Reasoning class.

Mom was all excited the other day when she saw another student who was as old as her! "Everybody thinks I'm a member of the faculty," she complains. "I'm old enough to be the faculty's mother!" That's only a slight exaggeration. She's pretty old. She says I have no room to talk, seeing as I am pushing the upper bounds of senior citizenship myself. But everyone knows we rabbits age much more gracefully than humans.

She also got three new assignments with the newspaper, which bodes well for our grocery budget. Mom is getting tired of cold cereal and peanut butter and jelly. She had to buy us a supplemental bag of hay while waiting for our bale to arrive. $10 for a tiny little bag! She says we'd better cherish every bite.

Anticipation

So Mom's starting to get nervous. School starts in one week. It's a huge campus. Mom tends to be a worry wart in the best of times, so this is putting her right over the edge. She's scared that she won't be able to find the correct building, or a place to park. She's afraid she'll be the oldest person in her class. She's convinced her brain has atrophied over the years and she won't be able to keep up with the other students. And on, and on...

Kenzie and I have done our best to console her, but it's an uphill battle. Why, just yesterday Mom was having a conniption fit about the new graphing calculator she had to buy. "This instruction manual might as well be written in CHINESE," she lamented, her hands shaking. "It's no use! I can't even figure out how to put the BATTERIES in!" and then she took to her bed with a cold compress and we weren't allowed to make any noise.

The one upside to all this is that her hours at the McDungeon were cut down to one shift a week, so she'll have plenty of time to study. She's counting on Kenzie and me to keep her focused. I've warmed up my favorite hunkering-down spot by the desk, so I can be right there whenever she needs me to step in and add my special "finishing touches" to her homework. I've already decorated her notebooks with my own distinctive scalloped edging.

False alarm

I really did a number on Mom last night! It was time to go up to bed, and I was nowhere to be found. Normally I am right there at Mom's feet begging for my night-night goodie, but not last night. She found me huddled behind the sofa, looking miserable. She tried to tempt me with a grape, and then a cherry. I LOVE cherries. But I wouldn't touch any of it. Then Mom knew we were in trouble.

She made a valiant attempt to syringe feed me simethicone, but I wasn't cooperating. I ended up wearing most of it. Kenzie knew something was afoot, and started thumping up a storm. I kept huddling. Mom kept fretting. I'm a senior bun now, and Mom tends to be a little overprotective. It's not like I'm FRAIL or anything, but try to tell HER that. So she hadn't seen me eat or drink anything all evening. That's no reason to PANIC.

And of course it's the middle of the night, and it's raining cats and dogs, and procrastinating Mom's gas tank's just about on E. She called the emergency vet here in town, but they didn't have a rabbit doctor on staff. Mom had to call the ER in Novi, a half hour's drive away, and tell them she was bringing me in, and she had to get directions, because she didn't know where she was going, and she was terrified about driving all that way in the dark, with a sick bunny, and the freeway was under construction, and who likes to drive through construction, especially in the middle of the night with a sick bunny? and so Mom was in quite a mental state.

But there was nothing to be done except take me in, so she got dressed and found her Visa card, and grabbed our carrier and dragged it into the bedroom to pack me and Kenzie up, and what do you think she saw? Me, sitting in my pen, scarfing down lettuce and looking for all the world like a peaceful, happy little bun. 

Mom will tell you she was relieved. That it was the most beautiful sight she'd ever witnessed. That she wanted to scoop me up and give me all kinds of hugs and kisses. But what she SAID was something along the lines of "FREDDIE, I'm going to THROTTLE you! How could you put me through that!" and so on. She got back into her PJs, and put the carrier away, and thanked God that she didn't have to go out into the storm. And I munched away happily, cuddled up with my Kenzie, trying hard not to laugh at the sight of Mom tearing her hair out. She does tend to get worked up about things.

Counting down

Mom is eagerly counting down the hours until it is officially July 18th, and I will be officially 8 years old!

Mom says that means I will officially be a senior citizen. She's making all sorts of jokes about Medicare and AARP and false teeth, to which I say, HA. HA. HA. Very funny. She should be thanking her lucky stars that I decided to stick around this long. We've been together for four years now! It's been the best four years of Mom's life, and she'd do well to remember that!

Really I can't complain. Sure, there were some hairy situations in the past, like when I decided to snack on the electric lamp cord and nearly set fire to my jaw. Or the time that I ate half of Mom's house plant, and she had to call Poison Control. But mostly it has been four years of sunshine and happiness. What else would you expect from Frederic the Great?

Tomorrow will mark another milestone too. My faithful mate Kenzie will turn five. She doesn't look a day over three. She's come a long way since she first arrived here, overweight and covered with unsightly stains. Now she's sleek and svelte and glowing white, a real beauty. Mom can't remember a time when it wasn't the three of us, the three amigos (or the three Stooges, whichever you prefer).

Mom has to go to that horrible dungeon place she calls "work" tomorrow, but she's promised us a huge birthday salad when she gets home, and she saved us the biggest, fattest, juiciest cherry of the bunch! We love cherries. I like to gobble mine down and then groom Kenzie, leaving big red lip marks all over her snowy white fur. Mom thinks that is adorable. Mom thinks most things we do are adorable, which, really, they are.

A couple of gimps

That's what Mom says she has. Just because the vet told her I have arthritis, and Kenzie has possible nerve damage. So heartless.

 I have to start taking glucosamine, and I say good luck to Mom with that. She has no idea how she's going to sweet talk me into ingesting anything medicinal.

As for Kenzie, the vet says she probably has residual spinal damage from when she was heartlessly thrown over a fence before she was rescued, and she may continue to have periods of lameness like last night. 

So Mom is worried about us both, although she cracks silly jokes about getting us each matching miniature Hoverrounds. She is relieved that we are both now safely at home, in one piece. 

I was a good boy today and endured the very invasive physical exam like a champ. Kenzie showed her displeasure by peeing all over the floor. We each got a cherry half for our bravery. 

Mysterious malady

Here's the scary story about last night. Kenzie was snoozing away in the bedroom as usual. She woke up and headed for our pen where I was eating dinner, when suddenly her legs seemed to give out on her. She writhed around for a few minutes trying to get her balance, to no avail. Finally she dragged herself by her front paws into the hidey box where she huddled miserablyl, chattering her teeth.

Mom was having fits, panicking, thinking her baby was having a seizure and dying before her eyes! She threw us both into the carrier and drove like a mad woman to the emergency vet, which is a place we've never had to visit before, so she had no idea if the vet was even competent to take care of rabbits. 

By the time we got to the clinic, maybe a half hour after the "attack", Kenzie was hopping around like normal, none the worse for wear. She didn't even seem unduly stressed out. She gobbled down the treat Mom gave her. The vet basically said, she's fine now, might as well take her home. Didn't take any X-rays or run any tests. 

Mom was of course relieved that Kenzie was back to normal, but terrified it will happen again. We have an appointment this afternoon with our regular, wonderful and competent vet, so maybe she'll be able to shed some light on what happened. Have any of you got any ideas what might have happened? 

Home sweet home

What an exciting vacation we had! It started off slowly, with lots of lounging beneath the Pickup Truck Cabana and foraging for dandelions. Mom parked herself by the pond with a good book (at least the part I tasted was good!) and watched the birds and butterflies float by. It was blissful.

Kenzie and I enjoyed having the garage all to ourselves. Grandpa's allergic, you see, so we couldn't go in the house. We didn't mind. The garage is huge, with all sorts of interesting cubbyholes to explore, and a cool cement floor to keep us feeling refreshed in the stifling summer heat. We even had a visit from a pair of curious chipmunks, who slithered inside through the tiny crack on the side of the garage door! They weren't too happy to see us, or Mom, and promptly fled. Mom barricaded the crack so they couldn't come back. She was afraid they would expose us to rabies, or fleas, or exotic chipmunk diseases. Mom tends to be a worry wart.

Did I mention the stifling summer heat? On Wednesday it was 96 in the shade. Grandpa's allergies notwithstanding, Mom couldn't leave us outside to bake. She brought us into the back bedroom and turned on the AC for us. She set us up with litter boxes and burrow boxes and our favorite fleece pad, and we lounged the day away in climate-controlled comfort. We even got to spend the night in there! We pretended we were stranded on a desert island adrift in a sea of molten lava. It was great fun.

The back bedroom has all manner of intriguing cabinets and lots of exposed wood, but wouldn't you know, Mom watched us like a hawk and we didn't get so much as a tiny nibble. Even so, I had a grand time exploring and sliding back and forth on the shiny parquet floor. Kenzie did not care for that floor. She preferred to stay on the area rug where there was traction.

Well, now we are back in our own home, with all of our favorite belongings right where we left them. Mom is already planning our next getaway. She starts school this fall and wants to get another vacation in before classes begin. She misses the pond and the big old swing. I miss the fresh clover and mini roses. Kenzie misses hiding under the truck, just out of Mom's reach at bedtime!

Counting down...

...the days until vacation! Once again, we will be setting out for the wonderland that is Granny and Grandpa's house, for a fun-filled yet relaxing week of blissful inactivity. Kenzie and I will lounge in the Garage beneath the Pickup Truck Cabana, while Mom whiles away the afternoon on the swing by the pond, sipping lemonade and swatting at bees.  Delicious salads of fresh dandelion and clover await us, with a strawberry garnish and maybe even a carrot top or two!

Mom has already started a packing list. She says it would be easier to travel with triplet toddlers than it is to haul all of our bunny stuff back and forth. She says the term "high maintenance" comes to mind. I think that's grossly unfair. Just because I refuse to travel without my burrow box, two kinds of hay, special water crock, hay ball, litterboxes and cuddle blankie...

Mom herself packs light. A pair of old sweat pants and a couple tee shirts, a ratty nightgown and a pair of socks in case it gets chilly at night, and she's set for the week. The most strenuous activity she has planned for herself is scooping out ice cream. Mom is by nature a slothful creature, never more so than when she is camped out in the sunshine fanning herself with a Birds and Blooms magazine. She claims that Kenzie and I are lazy...well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, let me tell you!

Hoppy happy meal

Mom points out that it's been over a month since my last blog. I can't help it that I am a busy bunny, constantly in demand. I haven't forgotten my adoring public, all five of them. Here's the latest scoop:

Mom finished another assignment, this one about seniors and technology. She had to interview old people about their views toward computers and such. Not as much fun as frat boys, but she got a decent article out of it, meaning we'll be able to buy groceries this week.

Speaking of food, Mom likes to eat, and wants to keep on doing it, so she needs more of an income than the newspaper or her cleaning job can provide. So Mom dragged herself down to the local McDonald's and put in her application. They hired her on the spot, gave her a hideous uniform and told her to show up next Monday morning bright and early.

Mom is not happy about this. She did not expect to reach a certain age and find herself flipping burgers for a living alongside pimply-faced adolescent boys. She tries to look on the bright side. McDonald's provides a generous employee discount. So Mom can stock up on Big Macs and fries, and save a lot of money at the grocery store. Too bad Mom doesn't like Big Macs. She can stand the filet-o-fish, without tartar sauce and cheese. Or the hamburger, with extra onions and no ketchup (and to think Mom calls US finicky eaters...).

So now Mom officially has three jobs, and as you may well imagine, this cuts drastically into our Quality Bunny Time. She promises to spend her every waking non-working moment with us, and we think that's only right. What could possibly be more important than Kenzie's chin scratch or my forehead rub? Mom promises that we'll still have our annual June vacation, just the three of us. We're going to hold her to it.

Boy, oh boys

Mom's latest assignment went off without a hitch. Well, that's not entirely true. She had to interview a bunch of frat boys, remember? First the batteries in her tape recorder died, then her pen froze (it was COLD) and she had to keep borrowing lighters to heat it so she could take notes. Lucky for her there were a lot of smokers in the area.

The frat boys were all quite friendly and helpful, and Mom got some great material. But she didn't remember the cardinal rule, which is "go before you go". She had to use the bathroom at the frat house. Mom's skin is still crawling. 30 guys and one toilet? You can imagine the carnage. She didn't remember the second rule either, which is "pack your paper". There wasn't a shred of toilet tissue to be found. Live and learn, the hard way.

Her next job also involves college students, but these ones will be cleaner (she hopes) and it will be much warmer (she hopes) and she will come prepared (still hoping). There's a big charity walk-a-thon on Sunday and Mom has to explore the scene and take pictures. It comforts her to know that we'll be snug and safe at home, waiting eagerly for her return, regardless of how many misadventures she has along the way.

Taste of spring

Mom went to visit Granny yesterday and came home with a whole trunk load of applewood branches! They are the perfect size to gnaw on and loaded with tasty nublets. Kenzie and I wasted no time digging in. Mom says we have to share with the sanctuary rabbits. As a rule, I am opposed to the "S" word but suppose in this case I can make an exception.

In other news, Mom has been busy with her new job, which means she is hogging the computer and using up all my internet time. This may be the last you hear from me for a while. Last week she interviewed a group of senior citizens about new technology, and this week it's a house full of frat boys who are hosting a charity event. Mom is excited about those frat boys. She's planning to wear a new sweater and her good bra. I hesitate to remind her that she is old enough to be their mother. Mom can be rather touchy sometimes.

As for Kenzie and me, we're continuing our assault on the sofa springs. Mom erected a feeble barrier, but mere cardboard and duct tape are no match for two determined bunnies! Mom hears us rampaging and just whimpers. She tries to convince us that "neat" and "tidy" are desirable qualities and ones we should aspire to. I say what good is a living room without upholstery bits strewn from wall to wall? She should at least be impressed by our work ethic.

Destructo-buns

Mom calls Kenzie and me her tiny tornadoes, and with good reason. We lay waste to our surroundings with lightning speed! Why, just this morning Kenzie flung the hay bowl off the top step of our pen. Hay flew everywhere! I did my part by scattering pieces clear out to the living room. By the time we were finished, there wasn't a square inch of our surroundings that wasn't buried in hay.

Usually Mom groans and drags out the vacuum. That poor vacuum. I don't know how it's managed to survive this long. But sometimes, like today, Mom just gives up. "What did I ever do to deserve this?" she moans, picking her way through the rubble. She needn't be so melodramatic. It's just hay. We'll eat it, sooner or later. Personally, I like being able to graze my way through half the house.

Mom tries to blame the sorry state of her housekeeping on us buns, but that's so unfair. It's not OUR fault there's a hairball the size of a small chipmunk in the bathtub drain. And that mountainous heap of unfolded clothes in the bedroom? That has nothing to do with US. Sure, we might try to scale it every now and then, maybe take a little nibble out of a T shirt here or there. We are curious little bunnies and that's what bunnies do.

Mom likes to tell us a story about two good little bunnies who are fastidiously tidy, never shed, and keep their poop piled neatly inside their litterboxes at all times. We don't believe a word of it. Bunnies were born to wreak havoc, and that's just what we do, on a daily basis. Why, Mom wouldn't know what to do without the crunch of hay underfoot. If it wasn't for us, she'd be forced to clean up her own cookie crumbs, and shred her own bills. She really ought to THANK us for our service.

Give credit where credit is due

So Mom had her first job assignment last week, interviewing a local artist about her exhibit and life in general. Mom was nervous to the point of almost being sick. She did all of her research, bought a new tape recorder, and dressed in her nicest "interview clothes", but it still wasn't enough to quell the terror rising within her breast! "Oh, Freddie," she moaned. "How I wish rabbits were allowed in the art museum. I would wrap you in a blankie and take you along with me for moral support!"

Well, we all know how well THAT would go over. She couldn't take ME, but she did end up taking about a half pound of my hair, stuck up and down her good black slacks. Did I mention it's shedding season? Mom said having fuzzy pants would remind her that we, her loyal bunnies, are always with her in spirit, and will love her even if she falls flat on her face and gets fired in disgrace.

She did not fall flat on her face after all. In fact, her piece was printed on the front page of the paper, and she knows exactly who to thank for that! Who sat at her feet while she frantically typed, offering constructive criticism and alternate word choices? Why, I practically wrote the whole article myself, but being a modest and unassuming bunny, would hesitate to point that out to anyone who might ask. Let mom bask in the glory all by herself. WE know the truth.....

Cracking the whip

Mom has been lazy the last two days. She's been lounging around the house in her flannel jammies, eating chocolate pie right out of the pie tin. She'll tell you she has no choice. Sure, we may have had a blizzard. There may be three foot drifts in the driveway. Mom may have made a feeble attempt to dig out using her pitiful plastic shovel. Still, that's no excuse. She's even skipping school tonight!

You won't see Kenzie and me lying around, no sir. Mostly because we're too COLD. The furnace broke down overnight. Mom sleeps with an electric blanket so she didn't notice it at first, but we buns sure did. I let Mom know exactly how I felt about freezing my fluffy little tail off! She woke to hear me THUMP THUMP THUMPING, while icicles formed on my tender little ears!

Would you believe she still didn't get dressed, not even for the furnace repairman? She threw on a fuzzy bathrobe and called it good. She said she's sure he's seen plenty of women in their pajamas before, and besides, he's young enough to be her son. Kenzie went out to greet him, but I stayed safely in the bathroom. Mom will say that's because I was SCARED. I say I was EMBARRASSED.

Anyway, we now have heat, and the driveway's cleared, and Mom is running out of reasons why she should still be lying on the couch watching Dr. Oz instead of cooking or cleaning or tending to us bunnies. She says tomorrow she'll have to break down and take a shower. I just shake my head and go back to demolishing the bag of newspapers by the front door. ONE of us has to have a work ethic!

Onward and upward

Mom found out this week that she's been accepted to Eastern Michigan University, with a scholarship! She's been positively giddy, dancing and singing around the house, making a horrendous racket. Sure, we're happy for her and all, but we're trying to NAP here. A little consideration....??

Mom will be striving for a degree in Professional Writing, with a minor in Theatre. She has already enlisted my help with the writing part. She figures I'm already hard at work on these blogs, so I might as well take some time and hack out her homework for her. It's a daunting responsibility. Mom's entire academic future could rest on my furry little shoulders! Let's see if she remembers to give the bunny some credit at graduation....

Move over, Mom!

So Mom came home today all atwitter! She's been offered a job writing for the local newspaper. She's all excited.

My first question, as always, is how will this affect ME? I'll tell you how. I'm being bumped from my rightful spot as bunny blogger! Mom's kicking me out of the chair and off the keyboard. "Outta my way, I've got a deadline!" she bellers, hacking away feverishly.

Mom insists that I am being "melodramatic". According to her, she's not really usurping my power. She's merely suggesting that we SHARE the computer. So I am expected to stew in my creative juices while she slaps out some nonsense piece about city zoning ordinances or the dearth of affordable downtown parking. What nerve!

Mom says I will have plenty of time to wax poetic while she's off chasing leads and interviewing sources. I fret. I'm used to having free rein at the computer desk. Still, it's about time she started bringing in some cash. She'd been threatening to send Kenzie and me out on the street with a tin cup and a little sign saying "Will poop for food".

Focus!

So Mom had her interview today, and she's really annoyed. She wanted to talk about house rabbits and their habits, how to properly care for them and keep them healthy and happy. The reporter wanted to talk about the publishing process and marketing strategies. How dry is that??

Mom dragged me out to pose for an endless array of pictures. I let her know how I felt about things by gnawing a hole in the sleeve of her favorite sweater as she held me. She did not yell at me, in fact, she gave me a cherry half and called me a brave little boy!

Our article should run in Wednesday's paper and Mom is hoping it is not a complete disaster. She doesn't think well on her feet and hemmed and hawed her way through many of the questions. At least I was there to give her encouragement, and a few nips. Kenzie got to stay safely under the bed. So unfair. She got a cherry half too, and she didn't even do any work to earn it!

Nervous Nellie

Mom's in a tizzy, working herself up into a lather, all because some humans from the newspaper are coming to the house tomorrow to interview her about my book. Does that sound fair to you? They're interviewing HER, about MY book. Did anybody think to ask for the BUNNY'S perspective? Mom said something about a photo op, which sounds suspiciously like she's going to drag me out from under the bed where I will be peacefully napping and exhort me to "Smile for the camera!" I hope they shoot my good side. But then really, every side is my good side. Not to sound immodest....

Mom's decided that our whole habitat needs an overhaul. Suddenly, stray hay and chewed up paper towels are "embarrassing". And don't get her started on the errant poop pellets she's finding all over the living room. The great big noisy vacuum monster has been working overtime today. When Mom gets in a mood like this, it's best to hunker down and hang on for dear life! If you need me, I'll be cowering under the bed....