Comb the Rabbit at Your Peril

My family took the day off work due to snow, which completely threw off my schedule. Instead of being left alone in peace and quiet for the day, I have been subjected to attention and being talked at. And, when Mom decided I was looking too fuzzy, I became subjected to combing.

Mom has a special bunny comb called a Furminator, which she thinks is the greatest thing ever and which I consider a bunny torture device. I got cornered in my litterbox and I am surprised there is any fur left on me considering I think she got enough loose fur to make a whole new bunny out of. I have a been a bit tufty lately, but really, people. And there is no use squirming, Mom is relentless.

As she worked, she pulled fur off the comb and put it on one of my climbers for safekeeping. When Dad came upstairs, Mom pointed out the growing pile of fur and called it a Tribble.

(Picture taken 1/11/11)

Dad laughed, but I do not think this is funny. It is a heap of fur five or six inches across and it is supposed to be attached to the bunny.

And really, a Tribble? Are you suggesting I am a furry creature that eats everything in sight?

(Picture taken 3/12/10)

I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.

They have left me alone for a while now, and I have mostly hidden in a box and napped. That will show them.

 (Picture taken 7/19/09)