December 9, 2006


“Yo, Goodboys Nation, “The Big Nipper” here. You can call me “TBN” for short. My owner, the so-called “Great White Shank” (and you think I have a dumb name!), is – how you you humans say it, under the weather? – big time, so I’m figuring, hey, when life gives you lemons you make lemonade, right? He probably thinks he’s the only intelligent being around this place capable of manning the Goodboys Nation weblog command post, but if he thinks that, he’s eating the wrong kind of carrots.

“First, a little about me: I think I’m a year and 1/2 old in human years. My first owners were a couple of jerks who let me loose – something you NEVER should do to a domesticated rabbit – after they realized taking care of me was more work than they had time for. So, screw them, I say. After a period in the wild, I was found by a nice person who dropped me off at a humane society, who then brought me to some pet store where I stayed for a few months until TGWS found me one day, took pity on my situation, and brought me here. If you look closely at my picture, you’ll see I keep one ear up and one down, which everyone thinks is kinda funky, but I see it as a sign of intelligence, if I do say so myself. (How else would you explain me being able to navigate this %$#! keyboard?)

“Why the name “The Big Nipper”, you ask? Well, let’s just say my time out in the wilderness made me a little, oh… protective of my surroundings and food supply, and prone to nip first and ask questions later. Surprised? You shouldn’t be. Let me tell you, it’s a jungle out there – especially when you’re at the bottom of the animal food chain. Anytime you’re in new surroundings (I’ve been here almost four months now) it’s gonna take awhile to get acclimated. And, even though every now and then I kinda slip back into my Hannibal Lecter mode, my owners seem to think I’m making good progress. I’d like to think so – just don’t mess with my food and water without me knowing, OK?

“I still remember the day I was brought home to this madhouse I share with three other rabbits. If you look at the picture, directly to my right just out of camera shot is another play area in which resides a black and white female they call “Marble Junior”. She doesn’t like me much – whenever I’m let outside my area and get anywhere close to her, she tries to bite my a$$. Behind her area is a three-story “hotel” in which she has access to the bottom floor. The top two floors belong to another rabbit they call “Half-Pint”. I like Half-Pint. A LOT. And some day, if TGWS and his wife let us spend some time together, I think we could be an item. Outside this room lives another rabbit, who I guess has the run of the place. He’s a BIG 16-lb. kahuna named “Marble”. Let me tell you – my owners may occupy this piece of property, but don’t kid yourself – that rabbit runs the freakin’ house. I always hear TGWS complaining to his wife that if the choice came down to him or Marble, she’d choose the rabbit. (Funny, she never laughs at that.)

“So what’s it like being a rabbit around here, you ask? Well, it’s not rocket science (or, thanks God, laboratory science – if you know what I mean). But it’s, um, good. And safe, too – no worries about turning your back and getting you a$$ snapped up by a coyote or hawk, ’cause that can happen out here quicker than you can say “Bugs Bunny”. Two squares a day, timothy hay and H2O always available, bunny treats around the crack of dawn and late at night, a nap or two during the day while the house is quiet, a little ‘q-time’ with the missus each night while the old man pounds away at the keyboard until lights out, then do it all over again the next day. Recreation? Me, I like to toss play things into a cardboard house they made for me, then toss them all back out again when there’s not enough room. The old “mischevous rabbit” act, ya know? Right outta the bunny play book. Humans love that kinda stuff…

“Well, I just wanted to say hi, and let y’all know that, whenever you see another post by TGWS go up on this site, remember that I’m usually lounging somewhere near his feet or in my cage area right beside the computer desk. Whoo – this is hard work, all this typing. Time for a nap. Ciao!

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:23 | Comments Off on “The Big Nipper” Speaks
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