Poop!
There's a good reason why we bunny slaves are so obsessed w/ poop, but I still find it amusing, sometimes, when I listen to myself.
"Wow, those are some excellent poops, Miss Anya! Good work!"
"Hmm...I'm afraid these won't do at all. Here's a hay cube... now make with the poops, Little Lady!"
Seriously.
I was recently surprised to find a plant Anya won't eat. The only thing in our garden that hasn't been killed by months of cold weather & neglect is rosemary. I picked a couple of sprigs the other day & offered them to Anya as a treat. She'd sniff at it eagerly, then recoil in disgust, then sniff at it again hopefully, as though it might have changed into something more palatable. Poor dear. I was forced to give her a piece of dried papaya to apologize for offering her something unacceptable.
"Wow, those are some excellent poops, Miss Anya! Good work!"
"Hmm...I'm afraid these won't do at all. Here's a hay cube... now make with the poops, Little Lady!"
Seriously.
I was recently surprised to find a plant Anya won't eat. The only thing in our garden that hasn't been killed by months of cold weather & neglect is rosemary. I picked a couple of sprigs the other day & offered them to Anya as a treat. She'd sniff at it eagerly, then recoil in disgust, then sniff at it again hopefully, as though it might have changed into something more palatable. Poor dear. I was forced to give her a piece of dried papaya to apologize for offering her something unacceptable.