Seat of Power

My sister came over again for a few extra house- and wabbit-sitting instructions (and to use my internet because high-speed does not exist at her current place). I made sure this time to instruct her on the intricasies of maintaining the most important piece of furniture in the house: Mr. Mick's throne.

It may seem like an ordinary fuzzy green pet bed,  but in Mr. Mick's world, it is so much more. It is a poop receptacle, a meditation mat, a snuggly spot for sleeping and absorbing sunshine, even a substitute companion.

Poop Receptacle

The towel in the throne is there because once His Majesty is firmly ensconced in his seat, he is loath to move unless absolutely necessary. While he will get up and go to the litterbox if he needs to pee (because a wet throne is not a fun throne), he sees no such need when it comes to poop. At any given time, if he is not sitting there, you will usually see a few dozen little pills in his place. The towel keeps the throne poop-free--all I have to do is lift it up and dump everything in the litterbox. I would like to think he is simply being gracious enough to leave samples so that the Poop Inspector doesn't need to pull out his litterbox to check on things, but it's more likely that he's a very lazy bunneh.

Meditation Mat/Snuggle Spot

Need I say more? It was either a really cold day when I took this pic or I made the mistake of putting a substandard towel in place. Mick only allows certain towels to cushion his fuzzy butt; anything else usually gets tossed off.

Substitute Companion
This is the one that has had me scratching my head. I often catch Mick licking the edges of his throne--not chewing it or nibbling at it, just licking it, like he's grooming it. At first, I was concerned that he might be ingesting some of the fuzz, but I tried dampening my fingers and rubbing the edges and no fuzz came off. I thought perhaps he was attracted to the apple-y scent of the softener sheets I use, but I use the same softener sheets on his towels, and he doesn't lick the towels. (I switched to unscented, though, just in case--no change.) My sister saw him doing it and thought that perhaps he was treating it like a stuffed animal companion. That was the only suggestion that seemed to make sense.

In other wabbit-related news, I found a bunch of very large matted clumps of fur on the bottom of Mickey's back feet. I was able to comb them off and still keep his tootsies fuzzy-wuzzy, but he was not at all happy about the process because it involved keeping him belly-up. He fussed and kicked and flipped himself right repeatedly; he was not at all a happy bun. Once I set him down on the floor and he had a chance to hop around again, though, he seemed to realize that things were all for the better, and decided that I was forgiven enough to be allowed to pet him and rub his ears for a while. A kind and merciful fellow is His Majesty.

As for me, I still have yet to pack for our trip, which means I will be doing an awful lot of rushing around over the next two days. His Majesty's throne has been washed, dried and returned to his cage with haste (you should have seen the glare I got when somebunny found a lone towel where his throne should have been), but his cage still needs to be thoroughly cleaned so my sister doesn't have to do it. I'm going to need to get to the store and make sure the royal pantry is properly stocked as well.

"Well, of course you do--I need to be kept in the manner

to which I have become accustomed.

Now, please; it's nap time, and you're interfering with my rest."