Hello. It's Belinda.
Last week I wrote about the English. Tried to explain why we don't get along.
But I ran out of time. Never got to the "real story."
For that part, I have to go back to the beginning. Meaning when I first moved in here.
I'm a little nervous about telling everything that happened. I don't want to ruin my reputation, if you know what I mean. "As a professional."
But back then I wasn't a spokesrabbit yet. I was practically a baby, if you want to know the truth.
Here's proof. It's a photo of me the day my roommate picked me up at the shelter.
As you can see I was not a troublemaker.
But before I went to the shelter I was “running the streets” with some other rabbits. We had to sleep under parked cars.
I don’t remember much about how we ended up outdoors. Or about my plane ride from New Zealand, which is my homeland.
All I know is I was glad my roommate brought me here.
The first thing she did was set me up in her bedroom. She stretched a fence from wall to wall to divide the room.
“You stay on that side, Belinda. And I’ll stay over here.”
I couldn’t believe my luck. I had a big sleeping box and all the hay and water I wanted. “Free refills” too. Plus pellets and salads and treats.
The first few days, she kept thanking me for being tidy.
Come on. I wasn't going to ruin a good thing. I was on my best behavior.
At least until the incident.
One night my roommate opened the fence so I could walk out if I wanted to. Explore the upstairs a little.
She stood at the bathroom sink, washing her face. I watched from the hallway.
Everything was fine except she had her eyes closed. She made a lot of noise with all the splashing.
Suddenly I was stung by a bee.
On my lower back, near my tail.
I didn't even think about what to do next. When you live on the streets you learn how to defend yourself from bees.
I spun around and bit as hard as I could. It was a reflex.
But something was wrong. The bee was big and covered with grey spots.
That's because it was the English. Sneaking up behind me after sneaking up the steps.
Chomping me on the back for no reason.
My roommate heard the commotion of course. She yelled "No! No!" as the English ran back down the steps to the living room.
She turned off the water and followed him. I stood at the top of the stairs and listened.
Before long I could hear her cooing.
"Are you OK? Did she bite you? Show me your boo boo."
I figured I would be back at the shelter the next day.
I walked back into the bedroom and headed straight for my sleeping box.
I had no idea who the spotted rabbit was. "Regardless" I didn't want to start street fights in the hallway.
After a while, my roommate returned to the bedroom. She said she was sorry that she forget to check the "baby gate."
"I'm going to add a gate at the top of the steps. He'll never bother you again, Belinda."
How do you like that.
I wish I could tell you that the English learned his lesson that night but that would be a "fairy tale."
And this is not fiction. This is my blog.
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select
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