Hello. It's Belinda.
I hope you had a good week. Everyone here is fine except I had to go to the vet. For a personal problem. Plus a bit of shocking news about my roommate. More on that later.
It all started last weekend. I felt warm so I was relaxing on the bottom level, where the floor is cool.
My boyfriend’s companion, also known as “Little Fang,” was playing with hay in her pen.
Suddenly I had to use the litter box. I’m sorry for the visual but this detail is important.
I raced to my “loo” but when I jumped in, something strange happened. I didn’t have to go after all.
It happened three more times that night. Little Fang watched but she didn’t say a word.
The next morning, I felt warm again. And when I ran to the litter box, I didn’t make it in time. You know what I’m talking about.
I stood for a few minutes with my back turned to Little Fang. Pretending to wash my face. I was so embarrassed.
Then I heard a rustling sound. I turned just in time to see her push a pee pad through the bars of her pen.
“You can have this,” she said. “I have plenty in here.”
I was mortified.
“I don’t need a pee pad.”
Little Fang stared at me for a long time. Then she said it.
“That’s what I used to think. Now look at my pen.”
Just as I was getting ready to argue, I heard my roommate on the steps. She sang “Good morning, bunnies” as she walked downstairs with our breakfast.
But as soon as she saw us she stopped.
First she looked at the crumpled pee pad. Then she looked at the floor by my litter box.
“Did you have an accident, Belinda? My poor girl. Are you feeling OK?”
Next thing I know I’m at the vet. Which is fine, because I am not afraid of the vet.
I’ve had checkups before. Not to mention the time I fell off the furniture and hurt my elbow.
But this “exam” was odd in my opinion. For one thing, my roommate stayed in the car. A vet tech carried me inside. “No roommates allowed today.”
It had something to do with keeping the building extra clean.
Also the vet stuck his fingers in my mouth. Which makes no sense. I was there for a “bathroom problem.” There’s nothing wrong with my teeth.
He ran some tests and told my roommate I have an infection. Sent us home with medicine.
You might remember that Little Fang was sick a few months ago. She had medicine that was supposed to taste like bananas.
Well the medicine I’m taking does not taste like bananas or any other fruit. “To put it mildly.” It’s horrible.
My roommate and I argue a lot when she gives it to me. I’m supposed to sip it from a dropper but I don’t want to. It tastes so bad.
She invented a “hack” to make it easier for me. She put a big mirror on the floor with the glass facing up. We lean over the side until she can see my mouth in the reflection. I like all four feet on the floor when I’m jerking my head away from the dropper.
I feel fine now but I have to take the medicine for another week. Which is a big “gotcha” in my opinion.
But it’s not even the biggest one.
Rewind back to that morning on the bottom level. When my roommate saw the pee pad on the floor, I thought she would return it to Little Fang’s pen. Instead she just laughed.
“Let’s get you a new pad from the hoard, Little Bat.”
She walked toward the storage area under the steps, which used to be my office.
I’m not proud of this, but I’ve never seen the inside of her little storage project. I’ve been too mad about losing my work space.
But that morning I was already out of sorts from being sick. So I decided to “go for broke.”
When my roommate opened the door, I took a few steps so I could see into the closet. And I couldn’t believe my eyes.
The entire space was filled with pee pads. I counted 20 packages before my roommate closed the door.
And that is my real news for the week.
I lost my office so my roommate could hoard pee pads.
Sincerely,
Belinda
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select
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