Well the rabbits have survived the first day of their ordeal. Aristotle is looking a little on the thin side, but I’m sure that isn’t my fault. I am still suffering from a rabbit fixation and prefer to stand by their hutch than run round the garden.
My poor Mistress seems to think our household has tipped to completely the wrong sire of sanity into a dark zone of existence that there may be no escape from. I think she may be exaggerating. Doesn’t every household have two crazy dogs, two boisterous children, two timid rabbits and two sheep in the neighbouring field for good measure? The good news is it’s the dogs that my Mistress finds the easiest to look after, so I think we’re safe. Don’t you just love quiet relaxing weekends? I knew I may have gone a bit far yesterday though, when my Mistress threatened to remove the squeakers from all our toys if I didn’t stop making so much noise with them. Begrudgingly I can see that squeaking rubber chicken for an hour may have proved a bit wearing. It wasn’t even my chicken, it was Shadow’s. She’s got a miniature one that looks just like mine but fits more comfortably in my mouth for the purpose of squeaking.
Yesterday I received the very exciting news that my sister Esther is definitely pregnant. As long as her puppy likes me more than my sister does it will be ok. My only worry is that her puppy may take after her mum and give me a really hard time. I can see it now. I’m going to be right at the bottom of the pecking order as far as dogs are concerned in this house. It’s a good job I’m so placid. (except with rabbits).