Well, it’s been an educational week.
First of all, bunnies do NOT like being picked up. I knew this already, and didn’t get a bunny for the sole purpose of carting it to the shops in my Prada bag. However, no one tells you how to get Bunny from A to B without one or both of you winding up in intensive care. I’ve looked at countless instructional videos on how to pick up a noncompliant rabbit, all of which are demonstrated on what are obviously lobotomised bunnies with no soul. Roman will not gaze adoringly at me as I “support her back legs and scoop her up snug against your chest.” Roman turns into three kilograms of fluffy indignant fury. There is no scooping of my Roman. She has her first vet check up on Thursday, and I’ll give $50 to anyone who wants to come and coax my sweet little fuzz-demon into her carrier.
Secondly, bunnies are excellent dusters. Roman has cleaned under the fridge, behind the TV cabinet, under the couches and around the plant holders. Of course, she leaves a two inch deep trail of moulted fur wherever she goes, but she’s certainly removed a lot of cobwebs. She gets into everything. Open the fridge: woah, what’s in THERE?! Open the cupboard: omigod, look at all the stuff in there! Open the linen cupboard: holy shit, TOWELS!! It’s like she’s new to Earth.
Third, bunnies evolved from cheetahs. I’m not sure how rabbits became prey instead of predator, because nothing in the world could fly down the hallway faster than Roman. I teased her into chasing me the other day, and it was terrifying.
All in all, I think I chose a great little buddy. She uses her litter without fail, and hasn’t even left ‘territorial’ deposits for me to stumble upon. She doesn’t chew anything except her toys, ignores my plants completely, and doesn’t bite even when I piss her off. She binkies while I’m watching Charmed and licks my fingers when I give her a sultana. She’s the perfect Starter Kit rabbit.