Mr. Bunny was moved today into his new Bachelor's Quarters. The Bachelor Pad that he is so fond of was moved into the new area and he is now separated from his family by a fence. While I feel bad about this on the one hand--he and Mrs. Bunny being so companionable--logic dictates that he be removed from the vicinity of her reproductive organs.
I have drawn up a blueprint of the new arrangement:
I know, my drafting skills are astonishing! I tried to move him as far from the burrow as possible, hoping he will not dig an intersecting tunnel. If he does, I will have to confine him to his room and nobody wants that to happen.
Here he is in his new digs, running around and checking out the lay of the land:
In the next week I will be trying to gather the young rabbits into a burrow-less area so that they will not run me a merry chase come harvest time, which should be about the end of this month. I would like them to be semi-confined as I believe they will put on more weight this way which is a thing to be desired.
My husband is not happy with this whole arrangement, fostering some romantic notions of rabbits that bear no resemblance to reality. As I was explaining to him this morning, "Ronny, it has to be done. It would be one thing if Mr. Bunny said to Mrs. Bunny, "My dear, would you like me to use a condom?" or Mrs. Bunny was responsible enough to take a birth control pill. But since neither of these things are happening, I am afraid that this is the only recourse." He seemed to be speechless after that. I wonder why?