Bunny Humping
Crafting philosophies for small animals can be a lot
of fun, if only because they tend to be far superior
to the stuffy "real" philosophies we encounter in daily life.
Who cares about moral relativism and its nihilistic influences?
Instead, we should embrace doctrines like "Staring at squirrels is the best
course of action" and "If
I find a tree that smells like something, I should pee on it."
Another example: "Pellets in, pellets out". That's the name
of my bunny
blog. I thought at first that a bunny blog would be unique.
I was wrong. Luckily, there is plenty of room on the Web.
The bunny that I've been blogging has a name, "Winnie," but since he received
that name when his owner was under the impression that he was a girl, I have
resolved to refer to him as just "the Bunny." When I am particularly
happy to see him, I call him "Bun-bun" or "Buh-nay!" The exclamation point
is not optional.
I've been taking care of the Bunny for several months. He is small, gray
and very cute. He eats pellets,
and makes different pellets; rumor has it that he'll
even eat those pellets, if he has to. I appreciate that he's not picky. Flexibility
is a virtue, even if it's just flexibility in pellets. Sometimes I get huffy
when my co-workers don't want to go to the same restaurant for lunch as I do.
It is then that the Bunny's head appears over my shoulder, with a very high
transparency, and I am reminded of his simple lesson. I am also reminded that
I should trim his nails soon. They are like crescent claws
of chitin at this point.
When I got the Bunny, he didn't get out of his cage much. I resolved to change
that. "Bunnies are all about freedom," I would proclaim to the Bunny, while
I stood over the uncaged bunny in my kitchen. The Bunny would respond by circling
quickly around my legs. This was fairly awesome. "Bunnies are all about awesome."
I probably shouldn't have put the words "Bunnies are all about awesome" in
quotes, because I never actually said it to the Bunny. I'll do it as soon as
I finish writing this, however. "Bunnies don't care about misquotes."
Sometimes I would let him out late, then fall asleep. Waking up
at two o'clock, I would find the Bunny running in circles, top speed, around
my head, gracefully leaping over me. I didn't really understand the agenda,
but I didn't really mind. I myself have never tried running in circles, top
speed, around someone's head, gracefully leaping over them. I lacked the first-person
perspective to take a critical stance.
But this all changed.
A few nights ago, I was sleeping. (I've slept since then, of course. Stay
with me, people). A few nights ago I was sleeping, and the Bunny was out and
about. I awoke at about two, as usual, to see the bunny
on my arm. Was he shaking? Was he cold? Wait …
Was he humping my arm?
I'm afraid so.
For full effect, please picture a cute little gray bunny straddling an
arm and gyrating at an incredibly high rate. The bunny's expression is identical
to every bunny you've ever seen — big blank eyes, nose going up-down,
up-down. I used to imagine that a bunny's inner monologue, when not contemplating
pellets, was "up-down, up-down." Now, I'm pretty sure it's "Man, that dude
has a really hot arm."
Perhaps the worst thing about the whole situation is that I thought we were
friends. I thought that he trusted me, and respected me as an owner and caregiver.
But how can you respect someone after you hump their arm?
This is a question I've put to the Bunny. "How can you respect someone after
you hump their arm?" His response has been to calmly eat pellets, staring
right at me, right through my jacket sleeves.
"Bunnies are all about violation."
— Dan Norton (dan@flakmag.com)
— graphic by Steve Carey (astrosteve@lycos.com)
