Archive for the ‘Squirrels/bunnies/mascots’ Category

Bunnies, bunnies everywhere!

I was out running the other morning, on a somewhat rural road near the river in Great Falls.

Everything was going normal, until I saw … Them.

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Lop earred

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BUNNIES.

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No, not the little wild cottontails everyone sees zipping around Great Falls.

Straight-up. Domesticated. Bunnies.

First, I saw just a little group of them hanging out on the side of the road, like it was no big deal. Since our little bunnykins is deprived of a proper backyard and would last approximately 4.27 seconds if left to her own devices in the wild, this was quite the curious sight to me.

But then.

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There were more.

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Three bunnykins

Suddenly, everywhere I looked, there were bunnies. Bunnies to the left. Bunnies to the right. Brown bunnies. White bunnies. Spotted bunnies. Lop-eared bunnies. Bunnies hopping across the street. Bunnies burrowing in the dirt. Bunnies doing bunny acrobatics. Bunnies reading their bunny paper while enjoying their bunny coffee. Bunnies trying to help other bunnies escape from the tyranny of the bunny yard.

Two bunnies

There were probably 10, 12 bunnies, just bunnying around, all bunnylike, as if it were totally normal.

On this first outing, I didn’t have my phone with me, so I didn’t get any photos. So naturally, people just thought I was  crazy when I told them about this Fantastical Bunnyland of Magical Fluffiness, where the bunnies roam free and the carrots are the size of trees. So I went back the next morning, iPhone in hand, and snapped these shots, to prove that the Fantastical Bunnyland of Magical Fluffiness does indeed exist, and that I am not just a crazy bunny lady who conjures these things up in my head.

We are, in fact, in the midst of … A Bunnado. Or a Bunami, if you will. Or perhaps a Bunquake. For all we know, this may even qualify as Bunageddon. Or the Bunpocolypse. There’s a million different possibilities, really. Whatever you call it, this is a very serious situation that should not be taken lightly.

Now, I’m not posting about this to frighten you. I simply believe you should all be alerted that if you run early in the morning, you’ll likely come across some fluffy bunnies that will distract you with their cuteness. And then your entire day will basically be shot because nothing’s going to top the fluffy bunnyness you witnessed earlier. YOUR ENTIRE DAY, people. You’ve been warned.

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Happy third anniversary to our little flufflepuff!

Happy anniversary to our little fwuffy wuffy bunnykins! It’s been exactly three years since we first brought our little furball of joy, Pancake, home.

Fwuffy-wuffy wufferton

(Oh, and for those of you who have been agonizing for an update since the last, somewhat grim post about Pancake … sorry. She made a full recovery and is fluffier than ever now!)

Our shy little bunny has made a lot of progress since we first brought her home. She’s gone from not even wanting to leave her cage when we first got her to effectively taking over our entire apartment:

Pen

It’s Pancake’s house. We just live in it.

(We actually had to build this pen after she was sick because she turned into a chewing monster for a while and couldn’t be left alone without tearing into the carpet or wall trim. Side note: Our landlord will never, ever let another rabbit owner live here. Ever.)

Also, after only three short years of getting to know each other, our wittle Lady McFluffle finally lets us pet her without completely freaking out and running away! And by “pet,” I mean stroke her on the head, and maybe her side, for about 30 seconds before freaking out and running away. Progress! Now, picking her up is still an ordeal that involves using a blanket and other absurd strategies, affectionately known as The Bunny Grab. But at this rate, who knows what the next three years will bring!

Our baby bunny is sick and we don’t know why

Our sweet little bunnykins has an owie in her eye. 😦

We found out this week that our poor, sweet bunny has glaucoma in one of her eyes.

After we noticed her left eye was looking pink and a little swollen on Saturday night, Zach took her into an emergency clinic on Sunday while I was at work. The vet tech there charged us $95 for being basically useless, but she gave us some ointment and made an appointment for Pancake to see a small animal vet on Wednesday.

When it was noticeably worse and looked like it was protruding on Monday, Zach drove her down to Helena to a vet who would look at her there on the holiday. (Sidenote: Zach wins the Bunny Dad of the Year Award, and my mom and dad win Bunny Grandparents of the Year for picking her and her medicine up and meeting Zach halfway!)

This vet actually performed an exam, and decided, kind of on a last-minute whim, to test her for glaucoma. She discovered that the pressure in Pancake’s left eye is slightly elevated, but she wouldn’t be able to run tests to determine why until the next morning.

Pancake was a very brave bunny and stayed all night at the vet’s office and held very still while the doctors put glaucoma drops in her eye. And she even got a strawberry!

The next day, the vets ran all sorts of tests on her, ruling out some scary possibilities but not all of them. The vet narrowed it down to two probable causes: It could be primary glaucoma, meaning it has no underlying cause, which is treatable, though she would probably have to have her eye removed at some point. The other possibility the vet suspects is called a retrobulbar abscess, which could be what’s causing bunny’s eye to protrude. The prognosis for that is much more grim.

The vet gave us some glaucoma drops to help alleviate the pressure and some pain-relieving drops. These, along with the original ointment, have to be administered three times a day at varying intervals, so we’ve had to wrap Pancake up in a “bunny burrito,” hold her eye open and drop them in. She’s not a fan of this, but hopefully it’s making her feel better the rest of the time.

Fortunately, Pancake’s behavior has remained pretty normal throughout all this, which is a good sign and hopefully means she’s not in a lot of pain. (Though bunnies, evolutionarily speaking,  are infamously good at hiding signs of sickness.)

So, we are going to give her the drops over the next week, and if it improves, it’s probably primary glaucoma. If it doesn’t improve, it could be the abscess, and we might have to make some tough decisions.

We’re trying to stay positive and hope for the best, because we love our fwuffy wuffy bunnykins so much and want her to live a long, happy life filled with hay and bananas and binkies and hopping and chewing on stuffs. If you have any positive vibes to spare, please send them Pancake’s way!

What your house looks like when a bunny lives in it

As proud bunny owners, Zach and I sacrifice a lot to make our house inhabitable for our wittle bitty fwuffy-wuffy furball of joy. And we don’t make any effort to hide it anymore. Yes, we’ve effectively become Those People. Please enjoy some depictions of this madness below.

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First off, the Bunny House! Though Pancake loves it, I suspect Martha Stewart will not be calling to do a feature on it anytime soon.

Then there’s the smaller, less popular Vacation Home. It’s less popular because whenever we tell Pancake she’s “going on vacation,” it actually means she’s “going to the scary vet,” where they will poke and prod her. She does not poke, nor prod, well.

The Bunny Maze is much more popular. Hours of fun, and no scary vets in there!

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Bunnies like to chew. On everything. All the time. It’s in their nature, and there’s no stopping it. To accommodate this, we try to provide Pancake with various natural bunny-chewing things. Such as sticks (store-bought, of course).

Phone books and bunny-shaped toys.

Old paper towel rolls.

Now, despite crap like this littering our entire living room, Pancake naturally gravitates toward the stuff she’s not supposed to chew on. Like electrical cords, which we’ve covered with plastic cord protectors, with a mild to moderate success rate.

Or remotes, which we’ve made a habit of facing down when not in use.

But sometimes we forget.

She also tends to chew on the edge where the carpet meets the tile, which we’ve deterred by covering it with a stylish combination of rugs and sheets.

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When she’s not chewing on things, Pancake partakes in various activities, such as pushing neatly stacked DVDs off the TV stand.

She also enjoys eating hay, which is consequently scattered across our home. Nom nom nom!

Pancake also enjoys a good burrow under the couch. Because of this, we have to leave the recliners open at all times, since she’s less likely to hide under those sections if they’re open, meaning she’s less likely to get squished.

Also, before anybody, ANYBODY, is allowed to open or close them, they must have visual on the bunny, and that visual must be somewhere other than under the opposing ends of the couch. This is best left to the professionals. (NOTE: If you ever come over to my house and squish my bunny, I will squish you. And not in a good way.)

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I’m sure by now you’ve noticed that Pancake is a fwuffy-wuffy wufferton. This means she needs a good brushin’ once a week or so. Pancake hardly likes to be touched, let alone picked up and brushed, so we had to get creative with our methods. The most effective one we’ve affectionately termed The Bunny Grab. It consists of several steps:

1) Block off all hiding places with pillows and such (under the couch, namely, which we often don’t bother unblocking anymore);

2) Locate the bunny and grab a blanket;

3) Chase said bunny around with said blanket, usually while she thumps out of pure, unadulterated fear;

4) Corner the bunny and cover her with the blanket;

5) Pick up the bunny while she’s rendered blind and helpless; and

(There’s a bunny somewhere in there, I promise.)

6) Take the bunny to the closet in the guest room, where she can hop around a bit while we brush her and she doesn’t have to sit squirming in our laps the whole time.

And that folks, is how you successfully complete The Bunny Grab. It might sound cruel, but there’s no getting around it — she has to be brushed every once in a while or her system will clog with fur and make her really sick. It’s not fun for us, either, but we do it out of love.

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You can see that maintaining a safe and healthy Bunny Room is hard work, which is why the doors to all the People Rooms in our home are closed at all times.

Curious by nature, Pancake desperately wants to explore the People Rooms whenever she gets a chance. Let the bunny into a People Room at your own risk though, as you’ll probably subject yourself to anywhere from five to 90 minutes of low-speed bunny chase as she rummages around under the bed, until you eventually spook her out with a broom handle.

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After reading about all the upkeep a bunny-friendly home requires, you’re probably questioning our sanity. I don’t blame you, and I am the first to admit it’s not easy being a bunny slave. But it’s a lot harder to say no to a face like this.

A tribute to … POPPLES!

Hey, remember Popples? Of course you do, because they totally KICKED. ASS.

In case you missed out on the greatest toy fad of the ’80s, Popples were these magical teddy bear/bunny/pompom/clown crossover stuffed animals with sweet pouches they could roll up into.

The concept behind Popples was quite simple: You pop it in. You pop it out. Pop, pop, Popples! Giggles ensued. They could also keep some pretty neat shit in those pouches.

There were several varieties of Popples, such as:

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Standard Popple

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Baby Popple

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Sporty Popple

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Popples in a Boot

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French Popples

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Pompous Popples

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Edible Popple

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Card Catalog Popple

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Pervert Popples

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Drunk Off Their Asses on a Merry-Go-Round Popples

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Hippie Stoned Out of His Mind on a Bean Bag Popple

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Popples enjoying the annual Popple Convention

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And of course, the Original Popple

Easter egg hunts = humanity at its worst

Probably because you pushed him down, you little shit.

“I’m gonna push people out of the way and run over them.”

That’s what a 5-year-old at the egg hunt I planned said to a newspaper reporter yesterday. Apparently, these are the sorts of values I’m instilling in our young people by putting on this event.

I mean, I’m not really into the whole Jesus thing, but I’m pretty sure “pushing people out of the way” and “running them over” weren’t what he had in mind when he sacrificed himself for the good of  the order, or whatever.

And it’s not just the kids who have this mindset at the Eggstravaganza. Many of the parents aren’t afraid to block or push other kids out of the way just so their offspring have a better shot at getting some crappy Easter stickers and diabetes-inducing candy (and, some years, inappropriate tattoos). And apparently, before I took the helm, organizers would put the bike-winning coupons in special gold and silver eggs easily distinguishable from the rest of the field, and — I swear I’m not making this up — some parents would bring binoculars so they could spot these special eggs beforehand and tell their kid where to run.

Simply put, mass Easter egg hunts bring out the worst in humanity.

As you can imagine, this incites some conflicting feelings for me. On the one hand, I’m indoctrinating America’s future with the values of greed and selfishness. On the other hand, it pays the bills. (And hey, at least a convicted sex offender wasn’t arrested at MY egg hunt …)

Fortunately, yesterday’s event was the last that will cause this crisis of conscience plaguing my mind. That’s right, I have  a new job! Well, sort of. One of my co-workers is retiring, and I’m transitioning into her strictly writing/editing position that involves only minimal participation in events. We’ll hire someone else to replace me, and I’ll transfer this crisis onto that poor unsuspecting soul.

I hope whoever that is has the best Easter of their life this year, because it’s going to be a long, loooooong time before they enjoy it again.

Yet another awesome national holiday

Because I’m apparently all about national holidays in 2011, I thought I’d write a post in honor of National Pancake Day. Which is obviously just an excuse to post a photo of my most favoritest pancake: Miss Pancake T. Bunsen, fwuffy wuffy bunny extraordinaire!

I’m cuter than you!

National Pancake Day is sponsored by IHOP, which is, coincidentally, Pancake’s favorite restaurant.

Get it? IHOP? Like a bunny hops? Hahahahahaahahahaha!!!

OK, yeahhh … sorry.

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