...with great big pointy teeth!
It isn't until you've owned a large friendly dog with no sense of personal space and a strong willed rabbit that you realise that the psycho killer bunny, Caer Bannog from Monty Python and the Holy Grail isn't so much of a far fetched surreal fantasy.
As anyone who has met her knows, Tiikeri is a friendly dog, however she doesn't know when to leave people alone, whethere it's sniffing the trousers of complete strangers, climbing into visitors cars, or sitting infront of you with her head on your lap as you try to read or watch TV, whining every second you aren't stroking her nose.
This extends to the other animals in our family. Begemot, our cat, has never been particulary affectionate towards her and generally leaves the vicinity very quickly the moment she starts seeking attention from him. Since we adopted little kitten Bob, Begemot has also adopted him and spends much of his time wrestling with him, feeding him or showing him around the neighbourhood. castraiting a tomcat turns them minto an Auntie... I never realised this until now. Bob, on the otherhand is quite frighteened of Tiikeri as she chased him the first time he appeared and anytime she encounters him she's immedienately trying to seek his attention or clean him. He thinks she's trying to eat him and either cowers in fear from this dog looming over him, or runs away and hides.
Autumn, our rabbit, is similar. Tiikeri discovered that if she jumps around provocatively, slapping her paws and yelping quietly infront of autum, he gets excited and starts to "play". Like ourselves Tiikeri finds it hard to read Autumns mood. He's a rabbit, they aren't that expressive, or rather, aren't expressive in obvious ways like dogs or cats. To her, he was emulating her behaviour, "playing" in return: slapping his front paws on the ground, hopping in circles, charging at her, making little noises...
To autumn, however, a challenge has been made. He's defending himself from a perceived attack and, far from the perceived myth of the bunny as a timid little fluffy creature, he will fight the death. Launching himself like a furry rocket towards the throat of his foe.
Tiikeri only realises this when enough fur has been snipped off with those little incisors to reveal the flesh around her jugular vein and the teeth go into skin. At this point the pain tells her than the play has gone awry and she tries to escape. However her play-pal has attached himself to her neck like some small fluffy vampire and she can't shake him.
I usually intervene at this point where a snarling ball og fur has been created and remove Autumn via the scruff of his neck to to a dark bathroom for a time-out.
Sadly we only live in a small flat. It's hard to keep the two of them apart and Autumn is used to being able to run around freely (he's litter trained, it's not harder than training a cat and their poo is tidy, and in Tiikeri's opinion, quite tasty). Keeping him in a cage would be cruel. We keep him separate when we are out, but Tiikeri seems to forget his behaviour quickly and starts taunting him to play when she encounters him.
What we really need is space. Preferably in the country side, surrounding a small farm-house.
With broadband.
And a windmill.
And...
And...
Robots, and an underground club.
And stuff.
But for now I need to put reigns and a ball-gag on my pet rabbit.
As anyone who has met her knows, Tiikeri is a friendly dog, however she doesn't know when to leave people alone, whethere it's sniffing the trousers of complete strangers, climbing into visitors cars, or sitting infront of you with her head on your lap as you try to read or watch TV, whining every second you aren't stroking her nose.
This extends to the other animals in our family. Begemot, our cat, has never been particulary affectionate towards her and generally leaves the vicinity very quickly the moment she starts seeking attention from him. Since we adopted little kitten Bob, Begemot has also adopted him and spends much of his time wrestling with him, feeding him or showing him around the neighbourhood. castraiting a tomcat turns them minto an Auntie... I never realised this until now. Bob, on the otherhand is quite frighteened of Tiikeri as she chased him the first time he appeared and anytime she encounters him she's immedienately trying to seek his attention or clean him. He thinks she's trying to eat him and either cowers in fear from this dog looming over him, or runs away and hides.
Autumn, our rabbit, is similar. Tiikeri discovered that if she jumps around provocatively, slapping her paws and yelping quietly infront of autum, he gets excited and starts to "play". Like ourselves Tiikeri finds it hard to read Autumns mood. He's a rabbit, they aren't that expressive, or rather, aren't expressive in obvious ways like dogs or cats. To her, he was emulating her behaviour, "playing" in return: slapping his front paws on the ground, hopping in circles, charging at her, making little noises...
To autumn, however, a challenge has been made. He's defending himself from a perceived attack and, far from the perceived myth of the bunny as a timid little fluffy creature, he will fight the death. Launching himself like a furry rocket towards the throat of his foe.
Tiikeri only realises this when enough fur has been snipped off with those little incisors to reveal the flesh around her jugular vein and the teeth go into skin. At this point the pain tells her than the play has gone awry and she tries to escape. However her play-pal has attached himself to her neck like some small fluffy vampire and she can't shake him.
I usually intervene at this point where a snarling ball og fur has been created and remove Autumn via the scruff of his neck to to a dark bathroom for a time-out.
Sadly we only live in a small flat. It's hard to keep the two of them apart and Autumn is used to being able to run around freely (he's litter trained, it's not harder than training a cat and their poo is tidy, and in Tiikeri's opinion, quite tasty). Keeping him in a cage would be cruel. We keep him separate when we are out, but Tiikeri seems to forget his behaviour quickly and starts taunting him to play when she encounters him.
What we really need is space. Preferably in the country side, surrounding a small farm-house.
With broadband.
And a windmill.
And...
And...
Robots, and an underground club.
And stuff.
But for now I need to put reigns and a ball-gag on my pet rabbit.