I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something tense going on last night. Like something was about to happen, and how I handled it would be a watershed moment in a new relationship. Even mollie could tell something was strange, based on the nervous way she was wandering about the house. I could not get her to calm down, and everytime someone came to the door she would bark. Mollie almost never barks when I’m home, so it was giving me a little case of the nerves.
I decided to lie down on the couch, and watch some TV. I was taking my shoes off and the phone rang. I answered, even though I didn’t recognize the number. Usually, thats a no no. I generally have no desire to speak to people I don’t know, and never give my number out to strangers. The call wasn’t important, but Roscoe took that opportunity to come over and give my ankle its evening hug. Except this time the little pervert sank his teeth into my shinbone, and began humping my ankle like a 5 pound furry jackhammer.
Needless to say I was stunned with the ferocity of his attack. I’d heard the expression “fuck like bunnies,” but always assumed that had to do with their exceptional rate of procreation. This wasn’t a ferocious form of hug either. He was obviously humping, and a former girlfriend explained to me once that animals in the wild often bite the neck of the creature they are mating with. Yeah, she was a bit of a freak. The teeny tiny hard rabbit penis was also a clue.
Anyway, I peeled the furry little ankle raper off my leg, and flipped em onto the couch. Roscoe started pacing, and occassionally stopped to place his front paws up on the couch and stare at my feet with that “yeah, I got me some of that” look. disconcerting it was, but not scary or anything. I’d never had my ankle violated before, but he is after all a fucking bunny, and can easily be transformed into glove linings and a bowl of stew.
I reached up and turned off the lamp, the little lagomorph Lothario struck again. This time he leapt onto the couch, and began ravaging my shin. I snatched him off and placed him back on the floor. Rabbits are not cats. You can’t bounce them off the wall just because they deserve it. Rabbits are fragile. I don’t care how hopped up on honey nut cheerios and testosterone they are. We repeated ths sequence three times before I’d had enough of his amorous advances.
I rose from my perch on the couch, and did that which I have never done to him before. I locked him in his cage. Normally it is there for him to go crap in, and to eat and drink in. I felt 4 sexual assaults we’re enough to warrant some form of incarceration (pretty much just like our judicial system in that regard). I returned to the ocuch and spent the next hour listening to him stomp around his cage, and growl like some miniature bobcat or something. Apparently horniness makes rabbits act rabid.
I’m not sure what got into him. Whether it was a full moon (again, former girlfriends have been affected much like Mr. Roscoe was acting by the phases of the moon), he was just randy, or if the yogurt treats I gave him work like an aphrodisiac. What I do know is if that little shit whistles at me when I walk in the door his ass is staying in solitary confinement until hell freezes over.