Hoppy Labour Day, again, Everybunny!
I think we're doing well. I say, "I think," because the biped started to worry this morning about Charlie hiding just a tiny, tiny, tiny touch too much. It's either that or the bounce is completely gone from his bungee. "Is Charlie having difficulties urinating again?" was the question. Of course, he does not yet know how to do anything near the bladder expression, so he put her in the hay bin; she got mad, peed all over his paw, and all is well for the moment.
We are still in the "The V.E.T. is closed" phase of the "weekend blackout," and that is the toughest part about the long weekends like this. But tomorrow we'll see Dr. Learning, for the "usual," so keep those paws crossed and keep theme good waves coming.
We took a vote around the burrow and decided that no matter what, this is the best holiday of the year. You can do that, you know. You shred the calendar, use it as a bin filler, and make your own where you decide what's important.
There's no pressure of any sort to do anything or be a certain way; there's no grain to go against, and however you want to go about this day is the right way.
So we got a little arting done, and the hoomin is now convinced that, yes, you better use the good paper if you're going to mess with water. But that's OK, we'll do more today, and we'll use the good stuff.
We'll keep you posted!
- Gus
