We went to the pet store the other day to get a goldfish. See, when the roomate and I moved in together, it was our intention to get a dog. Unfortunately our landlord had other plans. I believe her exact words were "absolutely not. No way. Keep dreaming, suckas!"
We still wanted some LIFE in the apartment. So, Goldfish it was. But those baby bunnies were SO cute! The roomate said I could get one if I a) paid for it myself, b) took on all of the responsibility and c) referred to it only as MY bunny and not OUR bunny. Of course, I immediately started using phrases like "We're going to be so happy with our new bunny," and "Did you know that our bunny will probably live for the next 10-12 years?"
They couldn't really tell us much about the bunny at the pet store. Pretty much the only info we got was that it is, in fact, a bunny. They said it was too young to tell the sex, and it was either a Dwarf rabbit or a Lop-eared rabbit. "Oh, I don't know, a few months?" is what I got when I asked how old BunBun is. Umm, is that a question?
We've been calling him all sorts of things. Gandalf the Grey, Uncle Buck, UB, Ubes, Ubester, Eleanor Rigby, Fou-Fou and of course the ever-popular BunBun. I guess when we finally figure out if it's a boy or girl, we'll be able to nail down a name.
Here "someone" looks pretty excited when "someone" said "someone" didn't want to have anything to do with the bunny:
As for me, I'm just waiting for this awkward phase to pass where BunBun goes from not wanting to have anything to do with me to snuggling up on the couch and watching five consecutive episodes of How I Met Your Mother. It didn't talk much about this in the bunny books, but I figure, how different can bunnies and dogs really be?
Right?
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