Stop! Thief!

Yesterday evening, I ate a satsuma and mistakenly left the peel, which had been removed in one piece, on a plate on the arm of the chair.

I completely forgot about it, until Dijon casually hopped onto the armchair, snatched the peel from the plate, and jumped down again to eat it. As I approached, he skipped away, peels still dangling from his mouth. He managed to run a full lap of the dining room, leaving a trail of pith and pips in his wake, then attempted to hide in a box before I caught caught.

It's not the first time he's been attracted to citrus fruit; a dew months ago he managed to consume almost half of a clementine before we realised why he was mesmerised in one place

Yawn

A video recorded last November capturing a yawn each from Dijon and Mabel:

Watt a Fool

We've been watching The Great British Sewing Bee on BBC2. A couple of months ago, before the series began, we won an eBay auction for an electric sewing machine; not a fancy one, but good enough for most sewing tasks. Well, inspired by the Sewing Bee, we decided to convert some outgrown children's dresses into skirts. And all was well until we noticed the extension cable was looking somewhat naked.

We scratched our heads as to how this could have happened, and then it became clear... Last week, the extension cable had been used close to the bunnies. We hadn't been foolish enough to let it snake across the floor, so it had been suspended between the serving hatch and a dining chair, well out of reach of the eager teeth. Or so we believed.

Who the culprit was is unknown, but whoever is responsible has a very lucky escape indeed, for they only munched into the earth wire. Let this be a warning - rabbit's teeth are quick! It takes just a blink of an eye for them to sever cables. And the more dangerous the cable, the better...

Snail Fail

Do rabbits eat snails? Yes, they do - well, paper ones anyway.

Our 4yr old daughter made a lovely snail, drawn on both sides of the paper and cut out really neatly... she showed us, showed her big brothers, and then decided to show the bunnies. Mabel glanced from a distance, but apparently Dijon couldn't quite see it properly, and needed a closer look... we soon heard lots of crying... Dijon had eaten the poor snail's head!

Nothing could console our daughter, but hopefully she's learned a valuable lesson... bunnies must appreciate art from a distance.

Well, Hello Tailor!

A couple of months ago we won an auction for an electric sewing machine. It's nothing special, but it does the job of mending curtains that have succumb to rabbits' teeth...

The machine does not yet have a permanent home, so it tends to sit wherever there is space on the floor.

Well, Mabel has spied the curious contraption, and she has become quite besotted with it. Each evening, she'll hop over to where it stands and greet it. She will remain in front of it, staring, for a minute or two. Real, intense staring. And she doesn't like anything to obscure her view. If anything is in the way, she will do all she can to peer around or over it.

I suppose the sewing machine must have a smell that attracts her, and a shape to match. Whatever it is she finds appealing, every evening she has to hop over to give it a bunny greeting.

Get (un)stuffed

I've been busy finding all the video I shot of the bunnies over the last couple of years, and today I edited footage of Mabel burrowing into a cushion.

The cushion, six months on,  is still going strong, although over the last couple of days Mabel has started at it again. It must be the spring weather setting her off.

I hope to have more videos and some photos posted over the next few days.

Manners!

I decided to record the bunnies at breakfast yesterday. They have poor manners and eat very noisily...

Holey Moley!

Oh dear. The spring-like weather has set Dijon off. He’s not in the mood for love, but in the mood for destruction; he’s being a very naughty boy today! And Mabel is also displaying some undesirable behaviour, too.

Let’s start with Mabel. She is determined to gnaw her way into the innards of our one remaining armchair. She has managed to find her way beneath the skirt – so she cannot be seen – and now she is scrapping at the upholstered parts doing her level best to make inroads to the interior. Shooing her away results in an angry flicking of her back feet and a defiant return to the chair moments later.

Dijon has aided her a little, but he is more intent on ripping the cover to shreds. Now, originally this was a three piece suite that was bought to furnish out home when we moved in 15 years ago, so it has (had) lasted well.

One armchair succumbed to Neroli, our previous Dutch houserabbit, who succeeded in tearing in to it unbeknownst to us. Ideally, we would like a few more years use out of the remaining chair and sofa as we are reluctant to splash out on a new one when there are destructive bunnies on the loose.

Anyway, Dijon has been making the most of he teeth by gnawing sizeable chunks from the outer cover. And he simply refuses to be shooed away; he doggedly remains attached, determined to finish the job of embellishing the cover with a fine selection random holes. Not only that, but he is adamant that the decorative piping around the cushion and backrest would look better if it were removed, an improvement that he had made a start on.

They weren’t like this when the weather was cold.

Update

As some of you may have noticed, bunnymad.co.uk has changed. It has received a little facelift, and all older pages have been archived. The reason for the latter is that we just don’t have enough time on our hands to maintain so many sections. Children, jobs, and other commitments (not to mention rabbits) demand too much of our time for us to be able to keep up to date.

So, from now on only the blog will be updated.

And here is the first update of spring...

Mabel and Dijon are now very settled in their ways, and they are quite happy with the arrangement in the living room: in the morning, the Easipet pen is arranged to allow them access only to the dining area of the living room. Straight after their breakfast they are allowed out, and out they stay until it’s time for school (at weekends they stay out).  IN the late afternoon and evening they are given access to the entire living room.

At meal times they have become terrible beggars, and it’s not unusual for them to stand on their hind legs, stretching as far up to the table as possible, demanding something from our plated. They look like a couple of performing poodles the way they tiptoe on their back feet. It’s highly undignified behaviour for bunnies.

Over the cold winter they have learned that radiator give of a pleasant heat, and they love to sit as close as possible. This does keep them out of mischief, but does mean they are in a permanent moult which has caused the filter on the vacuum cleaner to block more than once.  Two rings of black, brown and white fur are a common site on our carpet.

They have also learned to sleep in sunbeams that shine through the patio doors. In the morning they shine onto the radiator, and at midday/early afternoon onto the piano, so Mabel and Dijon will move around accordingly.

If they spot one of us out in the back garden, then the moment we come back inside, the two of them run to the living room door awaiting a treat. If we forget to bring a freshly picked apple twig, strawberry leaves, or a few blades of grass/oats, they do grow a little cross.

It’s hard to believe they’ve been with us for 20 months. They have caused relatively little destruction in that time. Only my slippers and remote controls have really suffered - Dijon has a taste for leather and rubber.

Book

Today I received an email from Waterstones, announcing the shortlist for their Children's Book Prize. I was close to deleting it when I noticed a book listed called 'Rabbityness' by Jo Empson... of course I couldn't resist looking to see what it was... couldn't find a 'look inside' on any retail site, but found this on a blog...

http://picturebooksinelt.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/a-certain-kind-of-rabbityness.html

This blog contains descriptions and images of many pages showing that it's a beautiful book with a deep message about loss and grief... but in particular, a message with which many of us bunny people are familiar: losing a bunny leaves a horribly empty grey hole, a stark contrast to the happiness and fullness their lives brought us, but then we begin to discover the gifts they left behind - the beautiful memories and special qualities they shared with us, as they tried to teach us the value of 'rabbityness'.

I challenge anyone who's lost a bunny to read the blog (or the book!) and keep a dry eye.