Lord, Let Me Be Half the Person My Rabbit Thinks I Am!

Rabbits have no concept of their bigotry. You are either part of their clan or you aren’t. They test you. When you get down on the floor and do the things they do (especially Dakota) eating or grunting at his rear-end (I don't recommend this one) or pushing the ball around…well, you’ve somehow earned the merits of clan member. 

Translated, this means he thinks he's me-- A giant rabbit, but with weird spots on my face, no ears, and lacking in some of the superior qualities most rabbits have, like fur. He doesn’t care. He likes the size factor. Caila has other methods. More… err…uh-female methods. She comes bounding up for snacks and decides day-to-day or sometimes hour-to-hour what she will and won’t eat. Berries have recently gone out of style for her. Now it’s Hawaiian flavors or the rear end view. And she waits to see if I’ll cave. 

I always do. 

Lately, I’ve been re-entering the painful and humiliating art of yoga. Caila does downward dog (err, rabbit) better than anyone I’ve ever seen. Lately, when I take a break from work, I go into the rabbit cave (translates to room in the house), and I practice my own downward dog. This gets her going. She runs under me and reaches up and touches her nose to mine and then runs to the litter box and keeps her eye on me. Either I’ve entered a competition with her or I’ve conducted a ritual of the tribe. By mimicking her, I comprehend her values, understand her with her best trick. Or, I’m just a big lug taking up space in the cave. By appealing to their narcissism, not my own (do you think I feel smart or sexy crawling around on the floor with 5 lb mammals?) I earn my place in the rabbit hovel. I am allowed to be obeyed. 

I am big bunny. When I say don’t chew, they stop. When I say, eat your lettuce its good for you, they do. Or when I manage their poop targets to the litter box by showing them where it goes, the next day is better. Here’s the problem. Although, there are many things Dakota and I agree on; like, strong legs will pretty much solve any problem in life. And, you can never have too much attention from the opposite sex, there are still things that don’t work. 

Like, when I don’t join him at the breakfast bar (translates to bamboo mat where their hay, parsley, spinach, and other rabbit delicacies go in the a.m.) -- he now waits all morning. If by around 10 a.m., I haven’t joined them he finally gives in. What he does she does after him. So, both finally eat. They wait, and then they eat. Was it always this way? No. I’m the fool who has proven that I can be as much rabbit as anyone. I did it to get them to obey me. Using human methods on animals that are by nature genius's at making family is not intelligent. I passed their tests and now I am a traitor by not living with them day in and day out in their rabbit cave. I warn you. Don’t try these methods at home unless you plan to go all the way. Before they were just rabbits.

Yes, special rabbits I’ve hauled across the country a couple times who have the toughness to live outside and inside—But rabbits. Cute little fuzzy things that wag their tails and hop for joy when love comes their way. Tubby little rabbits I’ve had to put on diets a couple times. And moody too! But, generally, you know… just rabbits. (Well okay, very, very special rabbits!) Now, guess what? They think I’m a rabbit. I wish they were human. When they hear birds they look at me like, ‘well are you going to shoot it?” Rabbits fear birds. When I come home from travel I’ve broken their hearts. They mope for days. When I don’t sleep with them, they stomp and chew on cardboard more and more. 

This has gone too far! 

Pretty soon they will no longer remember their original place in nature; that of a prey animal. If anything they prey on me—At least psychologically. Sonoma gets prettier and prettier by the day. I have built an outdoor hutch for them. When I put them in it do you think they enjoy it when I’m not there? No. Dakota says, ‘yeah we’ve let you into our clan. But I’m still the boss, and you need to commit one-way or the other!’ He drives a hard bargain. He’s the stubborn, constipated type. You probably guessed. 

So that's my ramble for the day. Do I really want to be half the rabbit thinks I am? No. But half the human? YOU BET!

Comments

[Ash]

Sounds like a lovely life. Sonoma? As in California? driad_98@yahoo.com is my email address, it'd be cool to meet your little friends. :) xoAsh