Bad Bunny

It's interesting to share one's life with animals, whether they be dogs, or cats, or in my case, a dog named Sparky and a mini-lop rabbit named Cloudy. Rabbits are strange little creatures - they act like little autistic children, fussy about ritual, strange noises, and smothering hugs. I notice rabbits take three seconds, no more and no less, to make up their minds about what they are going to do. They get nervous if they don't have at least two avenues of escape, so they prefer to place themselves near doors, or other portals. They are very picky about the placement of furniture pieces, or other objects like shopping bags, and they'll go bonkers if objects keep moving, e.g., if the object named Sparky keeps running back and forth and barking. I've also read that rabbit brains are wired such that they learn things one side at a time, so if they learn something with one eye, they won't know it with the other eye unless the lesson is repeated. They get complacent and sometimes don't pay attention even to loud noises and abrupt movements.

Since I'm often not home, it's quite an event when I come home to lie on the couch and watch TV. Cloudy will climb the steps from the back yard where she usually spends her days, carefully approach me, drop a few pellets, gauge how far I can reach, position herself between me and the TV, so I can clearly see but nevertheless can't reach her, and pee. I jump up in mad chase, flinging one roll of paper towels (which I need to keep nearby these days) in her general direction as she runs to "base" under the kitchen table, and busily start to clean up with the other roll. Then a few minutes later, the game starts again. I don't know what territorial imperative or possessive impulse is driving her game, and it's exhausting after awhile, but she is so darn cute, in her little impish way, I can't bring the game to an end. I feel sorry for the unfortunate floor, and I'm buying a lot of paper towels these days, but that's about it.