Good news for a change.

So after my rant on Monday I have some good news to share with you.  I managed to rescue the bunny on Monday afternoon and brought him home.  And no!  I did not kidnap him.  It was done all legitimate and shit.  He was severely malnourished and practically just skin and bone.  Someone tried to shave him and did an atrocious job of it.  When he got home he looked and smelled like a bum and that is when the work began.

When he got home I immediately noticed that he wasn’t eating.  At first I attributed this to stress.  But as he became more relaxed I knew there was a bigger problem at play.  On Wednesday I took him to the vet for a full checkup and to be neutered.  That’s when we discovered that the reason he wasn’t eating was because he couldn’t.  It was too painful.  You see due to having been given the wrong food and, from what it looked like, no hay he had developed spurs on his teeth.  It’s rather nasty and looks like little needles that make eating painful:  As a bunny try to eat these needles stick into his gums and as you can imagine it is very unpleasant.  So the vet filed off the spurs and he was good to go.

The first obstacle we faced with this new addition to our family was his name.  I wanted to name him Kazimer which means “The Great Destroyer” in Russian.  Hubby refused that we name him that and as he, in a very annoyed Tim Gunn voice, told me “I don’t want anything in our house that is known as The Great Destroyer.  This is why we can’t have nice things!”  So we decided to name him Dimitri which means “Lover of Earth” in Russian.  Hubby made our bun less of a worrier and more of a hippie because he is kind that way.  A bigger problem though was socializing Dimitri with our other bunnies.

As you may recall we have two other bunnies and they are both neutered boys.  They have bonded and love each other very much.  Apparently it is very strange to have two male bunnies bonded in this way but I guess it is true that the gay do rub off and is indeed contagious.  But before you call Nigerians to stone me – I am being facetious.  Knowing that socializing a new bunny with a bonded pair is notoriously difficult I thought “How bad can it really be?”  Well the answer is really bad.

With the first introduction there was a big ass fight between our youngest and smallest bun and Dimitri.  Fur flew, water bowels where thrown and there were tantrums and lots of screaming.  Ok, so the screaming was done by me but you get the idea.  Consequently to the first introduction and fight there was three more introductions all of which saw me have mini nervous breakdowns and took a couple of years off my life.  I have also, in the mean time, employed several other sneaky tricks to ease them into accepting one another and the experts tell me that socializing them to the point where there are no longer fights could take anything from three weeks to eight months.

Dimitri is a gentle soul and has a very easy going personality.  He is very similar to our only male cat and I foresee that the two of them will become great friends down the line.  It took me two days to potty train Dimitri which also shows that he is super intelligent.  His favorite thing to do in the evenings is to chill with us on the couch and he loves cuddles.  This is a far cry from what he was use to.  He was kept in a chicken wire cage at an Angora breeder in which he could barely turn around.  He was only taken out of that cage to breed and to be shaved.  When he stopped eating the breeder was too stingy to take him to a vet and dumped him at a pet shop where, according to the vet, he would have died in three weeks from starvation if he wasn’t rescued.

It breaks my heart to know that there are people out there who doesn’t give a shit about animals; people who treat animals so badly that death would be preferable.  It makes my blood boil.  What I find appalling is the fact that bunnies are becoming more popular as pets.  People buy these cute little fur balls from a pet shop without knowing anything about them.  The have no clue about their diets, their health, emotional needs and what it takes to raise a happy, healthy and well rounded bunny.  Then at the first sight of problems they dump them.  My plea is that before anyone adopts or buys a pet first do your research.  Find out as much as you can about that animal and then decide if that pet will fit your lifestyle and if you will be capable and willing to care for that animal for the rest of that animal’s life.

Till next time.

Wallow in Self-Pity. It’s Liberating.

I am in a mood.  Actually, I have been in a mood since Monday.  For those of you who are not sure what I mean with “in a mood”, let me explain.  Since Monday I have not been able to snap out of my normal, not so pleasant, grumpy Monday morning personality and I have been a Debby Downer ever since.  Much like Grumpy Cat, I have been somewhat on the “glass is half empty and you can go fuck yourself” side.  But don’t get me wrong.  I am not apologizing.  Everyone is allowed to have a bad day; or in my case a few of them.  I just pity the people around me who have not learned how to deal with me when I am behaving like an emotionally stunted child alternated by me breaking down into a snot filled mess.  The secret is to just ignore me or to say “you are pretty” but you have to get your timing exactly right or else things can get ugly.  After some introspection (talking to our cats because I am eccentric or normal that way) I have come to the bottom of why I am being such a bitch.  It was narrowed down to Vodka, Fat and Pollen.

Not being a big Vodka drinker, other than my love for Bloody Mary's in summer, you may ask yourself why Vodka is upsetting me.  Well the answer is simple – Russia!  You see I recently learned that a certain Vodka company is sponsoring Joburg Pride and this has caused a shit storm in the South African LGBT community.  So much so, that I publically declared that my husband and I will be boycotting Joburg Pride this year.  I mean how can we in good conscience participate in an event that is sponsored by a company from a Fag Hating country?  Attending Joburg Pride would be like saying it’s ok that Russia is treating our LGBT brothers and sisters like shit, but hey at least they have Vodka!  Right?

After posting our plan to boycott Joburg Pride on Facebook, I received some rather unpleasant Facebook messages and emails.  All of which, I suppose, were from Vodka drinking homophobe loving assholes.  Some did get my tits in a twist, but I decided to just let it go.  Frankly, I am not being paid to think for people and I am not here to force my opinions on others (no matter how right they may be).  However, all I will say about this matter is, if you are a LGBT event accepting sponsorships from homophobic companies, companies from homophobic countries or any other homophobic person and/or group it is just as good as saying you condone their attitudes toward homosexuals.  It kind of makes you an event whore and I am not into shit like that.  And because I am not into whoring out my moral values and integrity for money, we are not attending Pride.  So if you want to send me more related hate mail on this subject matter, please don’t waste your time and enjoy your homophobic laced Vodka.  Ok!

Apart from Vodka, I also was mortified to discover this weekend that I actually put on 4 kilograms.  I have never had a good relationship with our scale, I hate that bitch and I am convinced she is a compulsive liar!  I mean really?  How could I have gained 4 kilograms but not have increased my body fat percentage?  Where the fuck did the fat go, or better yet where did the weight come from?  It’s not muscle, I am sad to say.  Also, it’s not like I have been eating that badly lately.  Sure I have stuffed my pie hole with some chocolates, but they were medicinal in that they made me feel better.  After all, chocolate doesn't judge you or tell you that you gained a few.  But scales do.  They should be banned or at the very least be renamed “Deceitful Machines of Soul Crushing Misfortune!”

I am fully aware that I need to start doing something about my weight gain.  I don’t want to end up on some reality show where the person can’t get out of bed and where the show starts with the word “Morbidly”.  Luckily I am too lazy to develop an eating disorder and I am still in what is considered to be a “normal weight” range.  Unfortunately, I have no immediate intention to start with an exercise regiment because that is for people who don’t own cars and have loads of free time.  Besides, I consider herding the bunnies in the afternoons as sufficient exercise.  After all it does contain some running around and some various other unconventional exercises like reaching underneath the car, climbing over wicker furniture, jumping over lounge chairs and crawling around on the ground on all fours.  However, of late this too has seemed to become a lazy routine.  You see, the bunnies too have gained some weight.

Our bunnies have a sweet tooth and, like children, they give preference to the foods they like.  Foods like grapes, apples, pineapple and bananas.  All of which are rich in sugar and the bunnies leave foods like hay, pellets, herbs, and other vegetables for last.  Due to this they too have become somewhat chubby and lazy.  Our herding sessions in the afternoons have gone down from forty minutes to five, maybe ten minutes at best.  They also halfheartedly run, or sometimes stroll away, preferring for me to do most of the physical exertion.  To the point where I wondered last week for who’s benefit am I doing this really.  Sure, herding them is the time they should come into the house for dinner and settle in for the night, also it is supposed to be play and exercise time for them.  Yet, I am the one getting all of the exercise, and lately not even much of that was happening either.  All I really have to do is leave a trail of grapes to the front door and they will come in on their own.  And technically letting them get fat is animal abuse.  So I guess the two bunnies and I are going to have to go on a diet and I possibly may need to buy a giant hamster wheel.

Lastly, I am in a mood because of pollen and I blame global warming for this.  It is August and spring is still a month away in the Southern Hemisphere and yet my garden has decided to start spring early.  Now, most of you who read my blog know that spring is the worst time of year for my allergies.  This is the time of year when I suffer from chronic hay fever; get pink eyes and generally look and feel like shit.  Why nature decided to get a head start, a month early, on torturing my allergies I do not know.  But one thing is for sure, I hope it ends a month early as well.  If it doesn’t then Mother Nature is just being vindictive and taking out her vengeance on humankind for treating her like shit out on me!  So to conclude; No, I am not in a good mood this week.  Vodka, fat and pollen are pissing me the fuck off and I am allowing myself a “wallow in self-pity” week.  If you have never had one, try it.  It’s liberating.  And fattening.

Till next time.

How many are too many?

My husband is understandably anxious.  You see my obsession with getting a alpacas and/or a gay donkey must by now be haunting his dreams.  Waking up in a cold sweat after dreaming that our property was transformed into a fully fledged zoo, us drowning in animal dung and being in violation of almost all municipal bylaws relating to animals would stress out most people.  But not me.  I get super excited by the mere thought of it.

Look I know I may have a problem.  Even my therapist told me last week that he does not feel he is equipped to treat me.  Not many are, but what is wrong with loving and collecting animals, especially when you take better care of them than most people do their own biological children.  It’s not like I am harming anyone, apart from my brother-in-law who no longer comes to our house because he is allergic to the bunnies.  But there are pills for that and I have a stockpile seeing as I am the one who is allergic to planet earth and sometimes people.  After having had some time to reflect on my ever expanding menagerie while cleaning the bunny mansion I did ask myself the question – how many animals are too many?

At first when I started writing this blog post I decided to coherently interrogate this issue in order to come to an objective and logical conclusion.  Then I got bored.  So I decided fuck it!  Objectiveness and logic are for pussies.  So I decided to deal with this blog post by way of example.  You see it is very difficult for some people to see the world through my eyes because I sometimes have a more, how shall I put it, unconventional way of looking at things.  For example, where some people think the crooked teeth of a alpacas are ugly, I find it an enduring quality.  Some people are disturbed by the amount of poop bunnies can generate, I see it as a business opportunity.  Bunny poop really is a great fertilizer after all.  If you don’t believe me I will send you some in the mail or you can just buy yourself a bunny.  But I digress…

As you my dear readers know by now hubby and I have five cats, two bunnies, a tortoise and we may still or may not have a fish.  It is difficult to tell with the fish as we rarely see him because he lives in a constant state of fear and is always watching out for Killer Pussy who wants to eat him.  I won’t lie; having so many animals is a lot of work.  The bunnies alone have three litter boxes.  The cats also have three litter boxes and the garden and sometimes the bathroom sink.  Our oldest cat has also recently developed urinary incontinence and has peed on the floor a couple of times.  Don’t judge her, she is old.  So many Saturdays we are knee deep on bunny poop, pee and cat shit.  But I don’t mind because I love them.

However, our animals do sometimes do things that annoy me.  Every so often I come home from work to find a massacre has occurred in our bedroom.  One or possibly two of our cats like to catch birds and kill and then eat them on our bed.  It usually looks like a scene out of a horror movie but instead of human bodies it is birds.  The whole of the bed would be covered in feathers, blood and the odd organ or body part.

One time, not so long ago, I came home to find three birds murdered in this way at the same time.  What made that worse, apart from the fact that there was more than one, was the fact that whoever killed them then went and strategically hid body parts around the house.  It took me two days to find them all.  There were body parts in my study, all the bathrooms, my slippers, work shoes, on the couch and the kitchen to mention but a few places.  It took me about half an hour to vacuum all the feathers up which clogged up the vacuum cleaner which I had to clean multiple times.  I gagged a few times while the cats watched me and judged me.  Probably thinking “What the fuck is his problem?  We come bearing gifts and he says thank you by screaming at us and throwing up.  Ungrateful asshole! ”But it not just the cats, the bunnies are a whole different story.

Bunnies are adorable and their personalities are really comical, but this is just a ruse.  You see bunnies are super intelligent animals and super destructive and this combination can cause you some real headaches around the house.  They hide behind their adorableness whenever they are in trouble and they know when they are being naughty or doing something wrong.  They know but they don’t care and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.  When you tell at them “NO” they will ignore you.  If you shove them away from chewing the carpet they will jump onto the couch and chew on the scatter cushions.

Bunnies are stubborn.  So you learn to compromise by providing them with acceptable alternatives to their destructive behavior.  Instead of chewing on the carpet they are allowed to chew on those Ethiad Airways blankets we stole.  Instead of chewing on the scatter cushions they are allowed to chew on toilet paper rolls, scrunched up papers and a variety of other toys.  At any given moment our house looks like we have a toddler living with us as there are acceptable chewing toys scattered throughout the house.  It beats having to rewire the surround sound system, replacing iPhone chargers, buying new remote controls and a new carpet.  However, it is not just their destructive behavior that makes them high maintenance pets; their potty training also posed a challenge.

It took us a couple of months and getting peed on a few times to potty train our bunnies.  They are now exclusively using their litter boxes to pee and decided that hubby’s chaise is their new communal latrine used for pooping.  It’s not a perfect arrangement but it beats them shitting on the couch.  Unfortunately the odd accident still happens.  Like last week when one bunny was playing on a scatter cushion next to me and all of a sudden he stood still as if he had seen a ghost.  Then I saw that he was peeing and he had this “What the fuck did I just do?” expression on his face.  Clearly it was not an intentional pee but it was an uncomfortable situation for the both of us and the scatter cushion.

And then there is the tortoise.  She is stoic, opinionated and a Diva.  Of all our animals she is the least work.  She goes about her business, don’t particularly pay attention to anyone and pretty much ignores us unless it is dinner time.  She has her routine which she made clear from the start is not to be fucked with.   The only issue we have is when she needs to take her vitamins.  Then her Diva shows.  Most times she refuses to take them even if they are hidden in her food.  She would eat around them and if one should end up in a mouth full she would spit it out.  So I had to resort to force feeding her.  It really isn’t very pleasant for either of us, but it is good for her and she knows it but she doesn’t need to like it.  At least it only happens once every two weeks and when it happens we both feel a little dirty and ashamed afterwards.

As you can see I love my animals.  I must admit that when I had my initial epiphany on extreme menageries I was high on white vinegar fumes and possibly wasn’t thinking clearly.  After all bunny pee is potent shit and the pee-vinegar combo can have an intoxicating effect.  My conclusion is that you only have too many animals once you can no longer afford them and no longer have room in your heart to love them.  Hubby can also relax because I will never do anything that is not in an animal’s best interest.  When I do get my alpacas and gay donkey we will have a property with the space to accommodate then.  My Zoo will happen one day and it will be the gayest zoo in the world!  Admit it; you are going to be so jealous.  Now go back to work and stop looking at kittens and porn on the internet.  Or better yet, go feed your cat.

Till next time.

Sex Addicts

As if it is not bad enough that hubby and I share our house with prolific serial killers, we inadvertently introduced a new problem into our home.  A problem so shameful, sinful and grave that it requires an urgent and decisive intervention.  You see, unbeknown to us our sweet, cute and cuddly bunnies have a dark secret; a secret so dark that they had to hide it from us.  But when their urges overcame them their secret was no longer safe and we were mortified when it came out.  The cat is now out of the bag, so to speak, and we now sit with a problem that’s not only embarrassing when house guests come to visit but it is also traumatizing us and the cats.  Our bunnies are sex addicts.

Before I got the bunnies I did some extensive research on Google.  I wanted to make sure I knew everything there was to know about bunnies, their health, diet, behavior and any possible problems and challenges that were associated with them.  After doing my research I was fairly convinced that I knew enough to be a good bunny parent.  Sure, since we had them they chewed off wires, peed on me, almost destroyed my iPad and virtually decimated our succulent garden but that was acceptable.  It was our own fault that they did that anyway because we did not bunny proof the house thoroughly, underfed them with hay and they were still in the process of being potty trained.  But who knew that things could get worse.

After Alexi’s fatal accident hubby and I decided to replace him with another companion for our little girl.  After all bunnies are social animals.  We wanted to make sure that the new companion was a boy, as two homosexuals in one house are quite enough.  So when we brought him home it took the pair a day or two to develop a friendship and then forge a strong bond.  Then on one fateful Sunday morning it happened – their hormones kicked in.  They started to shag and shag and shag.  I soon came to realize why there is a term like “fucking like bunnies”.  Their sex drive and stamina would make even a seasoned porn star or crack whore morbidly jealous.  Then came another problem - the strong probability that we might have a litter of rabbit kits.

Being way too young to become grandparents, hubby and I decided to make sure that the bunnies were indeed a boy and a girl.  So I Google’d bunny genitalia (my search history is really weird people) to make sure I knew the difference.  And lo and behold we shockingly discovered that we had two boys and that our bunnies were gay.  I almost fainted.  At the same time I was relieved seeing as I thought it would now no longer be necessary to neuter them unless they became aggressive towards one another.  But I was wrong on so many levels.

You see, our bunnies developed a new routine that mostly consisted out of sex, eating and sleeping.  But mostly sex.  What makes this bad is the fact that they chose to not only have sex with each other, taking turns to fuck each other, to 69 and some other bizarre sexual move which I have never seen or experienced myself before, but they decided that everyone and everything else in our house and property were fair game for a gang bang.  They have tried to shag all our cats, the tortoise, some objects in the garden, my shoes, slipper, two teddy bears, the scatter cushions, remote controls, my iPhone, iPad and hairbrushes, to mention but a few.  But the attempted rapes of us and the cats are really the problem.

Out of our five cats only two of them have ever had sex in their lives; the other three are/were virgins.  The first time the bunnies tried to have sex with Boris he was understandably confused, but when he was almost penetrated by one of the bunnies and had his face shoved in the other one’s private parts he soon realized that he did not like what was happening and he fled.  Now every time the bunnies see him they storm him and I can swear the bunnies are talking in German when they do this.  Over the weekend the bunnies also tried to rape one of our older cats who is going slightly blind.  Not being a virgin she knew exactly what they were trying and it ended up with her losing a patch of her fur.

The situation is now so dire that Killer Pussy makes her way around the house never once touching the floor and Boris is a nervous wreck and hides in the bedroom when we are not around to protect him.  All five cats have been molested by the bunnies in one way or another and the bunnies are not gentle lovers either, I strongly suspect that they are into some hectic S&M and shit.  Just this morning one bunny was violently banging the cage almost ripping the door open while the other one was banging him from behind.  Our bunnies’ sex live is making ours look woefully inadequate, so it seems the bunnies are trying to fix that.

You see the bunnies have tried to hump us as well.  Normally we can defuse the situation without too much effort but they are sneaky fucks and they will get you when you least expect it.  Just the other Saturday morning one of the bunnies had his way with me.  It was around 8am in the morning and hubby was up and doing what he usually does on a Saturday morning, but he made one crucial error – he left the bedroom door open.  We keep it closed because the bedroom is not bunny proofed.  Shortly after eight I felt someone tapping my shoulder.  I thought it was hubby trying to wake me up and I recall mumbling “It’s Saturday, let me sleep”, but the tapping continued.  So I eventually opened up my eyes to find a bunny raping my shoulder.  I felt abused, dirty and ashamed.

After everyone and everything thing in our house having been sexually abused by the bunnies we decided that this could not continue any longer.  The Sodom and Gomorrah with its debauchery needs to end or else our whole household will go to hell and/or will become the bunnies’ sex slaves.  So, I made an appointment with a vet who specializes in bunny sterilization and the bunnies are getting “altered” next week.  I hope this will finally put an end to the rapes, sexual assaults and molestations.  Hopefully after the surgery the bunnies will focus their attention on things other than sex and that we can go about our daily lives without being afraid of being gang banged.  I don’t want to be a bunny’s bitch anymore.

Till next time.

Losing a pet is hard. Accidentally reversing over one is worse.

This past weekend our house was the scene of a tragic accident.  So tragic, that after it happened I could barely speak due to shock and sadness.  It is never a pleasant experience to lose a family pet, especially not if it was, in part, your own fault.  So still somewhat distraught from the emotional cocktail of sadness, grief and guilt. I thought it appropriate to use my blog as a platform for a much needed catharsis to help me overcome the tragic death of our beloved bunny Alexi.

R.I.P. Alexi

For those who read my blog regularly will know that all our pets are like our children.  And even though we do have quite a large family, by any standards, we love all our children equally.  When we got our bunnies just over two months ago I never imagined that one of them would die so soon.  I have always been pretty pedantic about the safety of all our animals, anal-retentive about making sure they have a healthy and well balanced diet and that they are both physically and emotionally in good shape.  Up until this weekend this have served me well, but as some people will tell you who has also gone through something similar, it only takes one slip-up and a split second for an accident to happen and in our case it was lethal.

You see, on Saturday our gardener came.  As per usual he was lectured about keeping the front door to our property closed at all times.  He was also lectured on keeping the sliding door that leads to the garage closed at all times and that he should make sure the bunnies does not go in there when he is fetching gardening tools.  The man has the IQ of a turnip and the attention span of a gold fish and usually only 10% of what you tell him sinks in.  Unfortunately on Saturday that 10% was not in favor of the bunnies.  His presence on our property would proof to be lethal for Alexi.

At around 10:00 hubby was on his way to the mall.  He entered the garage; saw that the sliding door leading to the garage was closed.  He got into his car, opened the garage door, reversed out and left.  About thirty minutes later our gardener came and knocked on the door.  I asked him what he needed and then he uttered the seven words that completely ruined the rest of my day.  He said “There is a bunny dead in garage.”  When I got to the garage I was completely unprepared for what I was about to see.

On the ground lay Alexi in a pool of his own blood.  It was clear that hubby drove over him and that Alexi was killed instantly.  Not wanting to have a complete emotional meltdown in front of the help (I am not that dramatic), I asked him to take the body to our vegetable garden and leave him there.  I walked back into the house and sobbed like a baby.  When I finally could compose myself I phoned hubby and told him what had happened.  During the call I found it difficult to find the right words.  “It was an accident and accidents happen” I remembered telling hubby who was devastated at what he had done.  We both felt an extreme sense of loss and guilt for failing to protect Alexi from harm.  It felt like we failed him.  We felt like horrible parents!

After I managed to get my bearings again, I proceeded to go to Alexi’s body and washed off most of the blood.  Bunnies have a strange way of grieving and when one of them dies the remaining bunny(s) need to spend time with the deceased bunny’s body in order to grieve and say goodbye.  This is exactly what I did for Halina.  She spent time with Alexi and did that little dance they do.  Eventually she gave him a final gentle lick and came and sat on my lap with her back turned to Alexi’s corpse.  The rest of the day it was clear that Halina was grieving and that she missed her friend.  Her pain and loss was mirrored in us.  My heart was broken just like Alexi’s bones.  The only consolation was that at least he did not suffer.

Later that day, hubby and I decided that we should bury Alexi in his favorite spot in the garden.  In South Africa this is illegal, but I decided to say fuck you to the municipal bylaws and we did it anyway.  By late afternoon hubby had dug a hole and Alexi was laid to rest.  It was a somber yet dignified affair.  Alexi is the first pet that we had to bury at our house since we have moved there and hopefully we will not have to have another pet funeral in some years to come.  In the two months that we knew Alexi he brought us nothing but joy, he was a funny little bun, full of life and he was naughty as hell.  We will never forget him.

Bunnies are social animals and need a companion.  Seeing as hubby and I work the whole day and that Halina would be alone in her day cage for most of the day, we decided to find her a new companion.  So we bought the five week old Vladimir.  He’s still a baby bunny and I was very concerned that Halina would reject him or even, God forbid, fight with him.  When we introduced him to her, Halina pretty much ignored him.  As they spent more time together they seemed to become more relaxed around each other.  On Sunday night Halina acknowledged Vladimir’s presence for the first time by spending a full hour trying to dry hump him.  She did this to establish her dominance over him seeing that bunny families are matriarchic.  After an hour of being dry humped Vladimir eventually submitted and this was followed by a protracted mutual grooming session.

Losing a pet is hard.  Accidentally reversing over one is worse.  But accidents do happen and I am sure hubby was not the first person to accidentally drive over and killing a pet.  I could not have foreseen that this past weekend would include a bunny funeral, but ain’t that just the way life goes sometimes.  This weekend just once again showed me that life is short and it can be over in a second.  So live each day to the fullest, appreciate everything that is in your life and never let an opportunity go by without telling your loved one how much they mean to you and that you love them.  Life is short; don’t waste a minute of it!  Alexi, we will miss you.

Till next time.