The Alpha was out mowing, but just came running to the back door calling for The Typist in his Urgent Voice. She went out in her sock feet just as we were being told to "stay, dogs, stay," and we got shut inside the house. Then, we watched from the window in disbelief as they messed around with a little bunny, trying to get it to leave our yard! Yes, leave our yard, instead of letting us out to play with it!
After a few minutes, they coaxed the bunnybunnybun to the gate they'd opened and he hopped out along the fence line.
I don't get it. I just don't get it. That would've been the coolest snack.
Maybe they just didn't want The Boy and me fighting over it.
Oh, well.
UPDATE: I forgot to mention the part where the bunny tried to come see us. Hopped right through our doggy hole (I'd say doggie door, but The Boy tore the flap off) from the yard to the patio. The Boy was thinking about trying to get through the glass; I could see it on his face. And ears, and tail.
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3 comments:
I know how you feel. Amy won't let me play with the cats in the neighborhood. Doesn't she know we just want to 'play'?? How rude.
Love your blog-- woof
Feta says HI to the boy
Bunbuns are wonderful friends. But not snacks. Not at all. They are your packmates, not food.
I used to have a packmate named Mr. Buns. But only for a few weeks. He moved to California to become a beach bunny. Back then, I was only slightly bigger than he was. But for some reason, he didn't really like to play chase.
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