So, as I often do on what is officially recognized as, though not always treated as, a posting day, I looked around the living room and said: “What should I write about?”
My father said, “What a great daddy you have.” Well, that’s that entire post right there.
My youngest brother said, “Doggies!” (He was very excited to contribute).
My mother said, “The bunnies. They’ve consumed our lives.”
So, to recognize my brother’s enthusiastic contribution and my legitimate love of dogs: I love dogs. Look at this dog:
I searched for stock photos of “dog,” but then that one popped up, and that’s actually the same breed of dog as our family dog rusty that we had until I was 11. So, wow, abrupt and violent nostalgia.
Anyway! Speaking of pets … kind of …
We now have a hutch of bunnies. (Sure to soon multiply. We think the brown one’s pregnant, as is bunnies’ wont).
FIRST of all, I went out to take these crappy pictures and the black bunny (who friggin’ assaults the poor brown one, but I digress) projectile-peed on me. It was thoroughly gross. Don’t hop and pee, kids.
Anyhow. The idea was my second-youngest-brother’s. We have 80 million feral bunnies INFESTING our neighborhood, and he was all, “Why not put them to use?” So he wants to raise and sell them. (They started as pet bunnies, but then someone moved out, and rather than re-homing their bunnies like a sane, considerate person, they released them into the wilds of our suburban neighborhood).
SO for the last week or so, we (“we” is used loosely. I’ve been at work, the bunnies are sooooo not my problem) have been entirely consumed by the bunnies. Part of it is we entered a terrible hot snap right after we trapped those two, so it is a legitimate concern that they’ll die of heat stroke.
But also, now we’re starting some weird under the table bunny breeding business, so that, like, requires research and care and stuff.
Like I said, not my problem.
But I am kind of looking forward to the imminent baby bunnies. They’re gonna be so smaalll.
That is all.