Last night I was listening to a Lost podcast in my bedroom when I remembered some laundry I had in the washing machine. I got up, went to the back room, and put the laundry into the dryer. When I came back, I saw Marty looking suspiciously innocent as he sat in the middle of my bedroom. I looked on my bed and there lay a single rabbit turd.
Tossing the turd into the trash, I gave Marty an admonishing comment, then I resumed the podcast and hopped into bed. But something wasn’t right. I immediately felt something wet on the bed. Had I been sweating that much in this heat and humidity? Had I not completely dried myself from the shower I had taken earlier? These thoughts ran through my head as I desperately hoped the wetness was not another “gift” from Marty. One sniff of the liquid shattered all my hopes like a sauerkraut sandwich hitting concrete after a ten story drop.
I turned to Marty, who was still sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor. “What are you going to do?”, he said. “We both know I’m too cute for you to smack, and yelling at me just makes me aggressive.” He had me there. “I’m gonna pee on your bed and you’re gonna like it.” I angrily tore off my bedsheets, closed Marty into his cage, and threw the sheets into the washing machine.
Next time, I’m going to buy an ugly bunny.