Bunny fun

Still in the early stages of bonding, Daisy and Buster remain mortal enemies and spend most of their day hurling bunny insults and/or poop at each other from their respective cages. I'm fairly certain that whenever I'm not looking, they crotch-chop each other with reckless abandon. I think this because I suspect they do the same to me, too. Note to self: set up spycam to record evidence of bunny trashtalk.

In the meantime, both are getting time out of the cage, but only when the other is safely locked away. Rabbits tend to throw shitfits whenever a "bad bunny" approaches their home, but as long as the intruder bunny is out of sight, the home bunny can resume his important routine of sitting around and cleaning his crotch. (Talk about mixed signals. I'm not sure what message a girl would be sending me if she threatened to kick my ass but then made sure I knew she was keeping things manicured. Rabbits are strange creatures.)

At only six months, Buster still has a lot of youthful energy. He is your typical boy rabbit and loves nothing more than to run around and show off for you. What do rabbits do when they're excited? Well, they basically run around like their ass is on fire and do flying jumpkicks called "binkies." Exhibit A:



It's hard to understand this within the context of evolution and a rabbit's status as a bottom-of-the-order prey animal. You'd think they would want to keep a low profile and not show off their sweet moves to everyone. But at the same time, I can see how this behavior would act as a deterrent as well. Whenever Daisy does one of her superbinkies, it seems harmless and cute to us. But one must keep in mind that bunnies don't think they're cute - they actually think they're badasses. So here's how that same move appears to her:



Remember the karate guy from Napoleon Dynamite? "Take a look at what I'm wearing, people. You think anybody wants a roundhouse kick to the face while I'm wearing these bad boys?"

Well, same thing here - nobody wants a roundhouse kick to the face from a four-pound bunny. If you're a predator and that happens to you in the middle of the forest in front of any other creature, let's just say it's time to find another forest.

Buster!

(Apologies for the time off between posts. Daisy's owners are big fans of March Madness. Daisy, for her part, enjoys throwing her bowl around her cage during games because her owners are watching basketball instead of her.)

In our last adventure, recall that Daisy only seemed to withhold her patented asskicking from one lucky bunny: Butterball, the baby white lionhead who had been born in foster care. Recall also that Daisy is incredibly picky about anything that's not edible. If she was willing to spare Butterball from a bunny beatdown, could that be a sign of affection? The ways of the bunny are truly mysterious, but every now and then you'll be thrown a glimmer of insight such as this one. "I smacked around everyone but this guy." This means something!

A few days later, I submitted adoption papers for Butterball and brought him back to his new home. It seemed like a good idea to put his cage next to Daisy's so they could get used to each other's presence before a face-to-face introduction. The newly-named Buster (which for some reason seemed to be an all-around better name than Butterball) seemed to settle in quite well:

(Bunnies are odd creatures. Sometimes they like to sit in their hay bowls. Sometimes they like to shit in them, too. Ever heard the expression, "Don't shit where you eat"? Buster hasn't.)

It was Daisy, however, who was having severe adjustment issues. To say that she was slightly perturbed from Buster's presence is like saying Adam Sandler is slightly unfunny. When Buster's cage was placed next to hers, she just lost it - running all over her cage, throwing food around, trying to bite through the bars. It was like telling a fiending cokehead that you're fresh out of blow.

In a move that surely ranks as a candidate for "Bad Decision of the Year," I reasoned that Daisy's agitation stemmed from the simple fact that she simply needed to express her dominance over Buster, get him to submit, and then all would be alright. You know, nothing some slapping around and token mounting wouldn't fix. Incidentally, this is probably where my past relationships have negatively impacted my thought process.

The face-to-face introduction turned out to be an unmitigated disaster. Seconds after putting them both in a playpen in a neutral area, Daisy charged Buster and immediately latched onto the back of his neck, prompting him to scream in distress. Here's all you need to know about bunny noises: because they're prey animals, if they're making any noise at all, it's probably a bad sign. Despite our shouting and attempts to separately them forcefully with a towel, Daisy kept attacking Buster to the point where she had to be doused with a cup of water to shock her into releasing him from her grip. At that point, poor Buster was basically in shock and was carried him out of the "play"pen (steel cage? gladiator arena?) and back into his own cage. Thank goodness he seemed to be otherwise OK.

After this incident of domestic violence, it was clear that this process would be neither quick nor easy. Instead, there was no choice but to accept the fact that this would be a long, labored bonding with no guarantee of success.

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On a lighter note, here's some exclusive footage of Daisy chewing some coroplast to get ready for "The Showdown":