Good evening, Everybun!
Another glorious, boring day with nothing to report. We got up very early, demanded breakfast, did our normal bunny stuff, and our hoomin thought Charlton Heston and Yul Brynner should make nice and sing our praises from the top of the world. Maybe set a bush on fire or something.
He's like that every day. Sometimes more than twice a day. So it's difficult to get excited about any holidays anymore.
And speaking of doing normal, bunny stuff, like the name implies, it's "bunny stuff" - not "hoomin and bunny stuff." It means Charlie and I do our things, and the hhmin is never part of that equation. We're not the kind that like to watch TV with him, or take trips in the stroller to have a proper bunn about, or any of such nonsense. We hate being picked up. The test we can do is accept the treats, and let him watch us from a distance.
Yes, I get it, he would love to shrink to our size, and join us, loaf at night next to the bed, hop up into the bundo, be part of the fluffle. It ain't gonna happen.
Just be grateful we play along as the "Studio Forebuns," and take the treats. Enjoy doing what you can to keep all these timelines from splitting prematurely. And keep the treats coming. Enjoy the head rubs that Charlie tolerates from time to time.
Good night and good luck!
- Gus
