the day in pictures ( a roscoe the wonder bunny adventure)

actually, if a picture paints a thousand words, lets call this half a picture.  The morning was a strange one.  roughly 32 minutes after my eyes open, the scene before me registered somewhere in the catatonic recesses of my brain.  My dog was sitting on the coffee table, and slowly spinning in a circle, whilst looking over the edge with a smile of trepidation.  Yes, I said trepidation, and I know it usually doesn’t come with an accompanying smile.  Mollie only has one expression, and its “smile.”

I’m virtually certain what awakened me was the sound of her toenails, which need clipping, tapping out a rhythmic beat on the hardwood of the octagonal table.  Shortly after the visuals registered, I also heard the light thumping sound that a rabbits ass makes as it lands on a carpeted floor, repeating itself over and over in an almost dirgelike cadence.  I immediately checked to ensure none of my appendages were reachable, and then contemplated the situation.  I don’t own a gun, and strangling a sexually deviant bunny didn’t seem like a good way to start the day. Since bunnycide was out I was in a bit of a pickle.  I had just about decided to sacrifice my ankle so that mollie could escape when it occurred to me that if I stepped on the table, grabbed mollie, then leapt to the chair; I could quite possibly make the leap into the kitchen.

    The kitchen is our Mecca when Roscoe goes catting as it were.  He is not overly affectionate with the idea of walking on tile, and this predeliction to avoid slick surfaces has more than once saved the mooch and I from trauma’s far to terrible to ponder.  I checked to ensure all the blinds were drawn.  I sleep commando extremus, and scaring the neighbor lady wasn’t on the days agenda either.  I had to get to work, and the worlds most intolerable pets were already making me late.  Without taking time to consider the visual I performed the afrementioned semi-acrobatic maneuver.

   It didn’t work.  Well, it did, no one was injured, and whether the dog was traumatized by what must have seemed to be an attack by an  insane naked guy I have yet to learn.  Unfortunately Roscoe’s raging hormones overcame the deterrance value of the tile, and I and Mollie were forced to lock ourselves in the bathrooom while Roscoe grunted out in the hall.  I’m not sure why we locked the door.  Roscoe can’t reach.  Maybe to many horror movies.

    If I slept with shoes on this would have gone differently.  i have no problem with rabbit penis being humped against my shoe, but at 5:30 in the a.m. I don’t want it scootching on my bare foot.  Anyway, I leapt into the shower, and then did the hair, teeth, and shave thing.  Poor mollie looked like a drowned rat when I finally decided we either got out of the steambath or I was going to have to call in sick to work.

   My dilemma continued.  I was still dressed quite scantily in a friggin towel, and no others.   My brain, still functioning at its nocturnal rate of 1 thought every 8 hours tripped to an idea.  I edged the door open  and tossed the towel on f@#kface….er….Roscoe.  Sorry.  His nonsense is starting to get under my skin.  Shoving the door open I swaddled his grunting and kicking furry little ass in the towel, and hustled him out into his own personal purgatory.

finally locked away, i managed to feed mollie get dressed and make it to work on time.  The rest of the day was hot long and hard…sorta like Roscoe I reckon.  Anticlimatic as hell though.  When I arrived home Roscoe was sleeping, and Mollie was sitting on the coffee table. I think she likes it.  One more bad habit to live with.

Advertisements

30 Responses to the day in pictures ( a roscoe the wonder bunny adventure)

  1. Stranger says:

    I had the same experience once. Well, almost, except no bunnies or nakedness involved.

    It was cold one night and I was walking through the house with a blanket around me, and I felt something weighing it down. I quickly learned that my dog was humping the blanket as it dragged along the floor.

    We need to get these things fixed.

  2. I’m pretty sure all Roscoe needs is a girl bunny

    hi stranger

  3. Wow. This is amazing. The same thing happened to me — although there was tequila involved and I’m pretty sure that I was the one humping the blanket. Come to think of it, the blanket actually turned out to be a better partner than my ex-wife. (I can make jokes like that now. She lives in another state and she isn’t allowed to carry concealed weapons any longer. I’m glad the law tightened up so you get your .44 taken away when you have a fender-bender and wave it around in public, screaming that someone’s going to pay for this.)

  4. well that seems hardly fair. the gun I mean, not the blanket being better than your ex.

  5. I know. I mean, brandishing a loaded .44 in a traffic accident and then screaming at the cops, “Maybe if you’d stop stuffing your face with donuts and kept assholes like Baldy (the other driver) off the highway, I wouldn’t have to get so upset!” One little incident like that and the gun gets taken away and your permit gets pulled. Ironically, the woman can do more damage cooking shrimp scampi than any weapon of mass destruction. How can you make shrimp scampi deadly? For starters, you can use shrimp that’s been on the counter for eight hours and then you can make sure you don’t warn your husband about it until he’s in the bathroom, puking up his guts. Man, I miss the little vixen.

  6. sounds like she was messed up like a football bat.

  7. Stranger says:

    I wish I could say the same for my dog. He’s taken a liking to the cats.

  8. exactly why i think the rabbit needs a female rodent to play with…get a dog, and i bet he leaves the cats alone

  9. Stranger says:

    You shouldn’t encourage me to get any more animals.

  10. why not…you could get a duck, and a pig, and a bear…yeah…get a bear…you’d be the female grizzly adams. and get a wildebeest…i’ve always wanted to do…i mean to know someone with a wildebeest.

    if you get a wildebeest, do you plan to loan him out on long weekends?

  11. Stranger says:

    That depends. By “wildebeest”, do you mean “husband”?

  12. yuck….heck no…i want a wildebeest…not some smelly dood.

  13. Stranger says:

    Heh. Women have been screaming that since the beginning of time.

  14. what? that they want a wildebeest. You’re a freak. *L*

  15. Stranger says:

    Ha. I’m talking about the smelly doods.

  16. suuuuuuuuuuuure you are. You tell it your way, I’ll read it mine. *G*

  17. max says:

    God that is funny.

    You just posted that so I would visualize you naked right?

  18. without ulterior motives Max, nothing would ever get done.

    in other words of course. How’d it go? *L*

  19. I almost never do this, but just this oonce and just for you max…..SWOONS

  20. max says:

    Roscoe is in his cage right? You do not want to be falling down unconscious and naked with him on the prowl.

  21. mdvp says:

    File this under conversations I did not really need to know about.

  22. Yes he is Max. and I’m clothed. i had to for work. The minute the cuba libre’s came out the rabbit got put up.

    aw, c’mon md. this is what i call content. It can’t be all politics all the time.

  23. mdvp says:

    Oh no, the post was rather good (thpugh it has me questioning whether there’s something in your water or something), it’s the comments I was talking about.

  24. ahhhhh…good idea though…i blame the water to…its a guvmint plot.

  25. mdvp says:

    Could be the air too. Just be sure to alert the neighbors and you’ll be fine… nasty lawsuits… trust me.

  26. max says:

    Oh hush, mdvp. If I can survive your Fox News chat you can survive frisky bunny chat.

  27. md: you don’t know my neighbors…walking down the street is like a visit to hazzard county…the REAL hazzard county

    Maxi know that wasn’t to me, but i wanted to take this opportunity to tell you….you give good….

    essay

  28. mdvp says:

    Fair enough.

  29. […] All I can think is, Roscoe. […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: