Tiny circles the cage at night like a crazed bunny chaser. She cries when she has to go to bed saying 'Bun, bun.' We appease her with news that 'bun bun' will still be here in the morning. She loves sitting next to him. Delights in him. Almost squashes the life out of him. This is bunny love.
The Doctor had a whole countdown going on to when we were bunny-sitting. Now he's on top of the world and poor 'bun bun' doesn't get a break. Unless of course Mama intervenes, which she has been quite regularly, to give buns a chance. Bunny has been fed only the sweetest of grass, patted non-stop, the Doctor could soon be the Vet?
And there was I last night watching a DVD (more on that later) thinking after a long pet hiatus how nice it was, curled up on the couch, patting the softest fur of 'bun bun' when I felt an even warmer feeling. On my stomach. Mmm. Warm. Straight through the blanket, my hoodie, and my t-shirt. Bun Bun clearly felt warmed too.