Thursday 15 May 2008

Rent-a-Rabbit

Off to see B, who lives the dream, with a tall handsome husband, three gorgeous well-behaved children and a beautiful house containing a dog, two cats ......and a rabbit. Into even the most well-ordered lives, the odd wrinkle must occasionally intrude and, as far as I can see, the wrinkle in this case has a cute little pom-pom tail and whiskers, and answers to the name of Dill.

Dill lives upstairs in a hutch with en suite bathroom, or, more accurately, in en suite bathroom. A near death experience at the jaws of the dog meant downstairs was no longer safe, so he has taken up residence in B's most recently done-up convenience, a dreamy room which looks as though it has been cut and pasted wholesale from World of Interiors. It is all freestanding, state of the art bath, Paint Library walls and clever tonal artworks. Apart, that is, from a large scattering of straw, a makeshift barricade, a big plastic cage and a generous helping of rabbit poops, plonked right in the centre of the room.

Here, if you are quiet, you will be able to catch little Dill, sitting looking all innocent, fluffy and beige, like the most delicious sort of cashmere coat - but much smaller, obviously. What harm could this adorable creature possibly do?

Plenty, says B. If he is sitting peacefully in one place, it's simply because he's exhausted, having escaped his prison with all the elan of a four-footed Houdini. His speciality is rampaging all over the upper reaches of the house, chewing up the bespoke carpet, hand-loomed in the Outer Hebrides, munching through the plasma screen cable, gnawing B's favourite antique quilt or sharpening his teeth on every freshly decorated corner. He once, particularly famously, got onto a pillow during a sleepover and pooped all around the tousled locks of the child sleeping there.

B, understandably, is losing patience with Dill, but has thought of a brilliant way to utilise his unique talents. She is going to hire him out to parents whose offspring are hankering after pets. He will then effortlessly confirm all the parents' worst fears but, much more importantly, will also put the children off the whole idea too, by pooping madly and eating all their favourite stuff.
If you would like to avail yourself of Dill's services, let B know via my comments section.

Dill is already booked to come to us for half term. Child two has longed for a rabbit for years - since the last one pegged out, in fact. She did veer towards tortoises recently, and was not impressed when I suggested that she paint two eyes on a rock and have that instead, as a more interactive pet option. But now I can't wait. In little Dill, it looks as though I've finally found a male I can rely on to get the job done.

5 comments:

The Accidental Author said...

Does Dill come with a passport? Can he speak French? My daughter is dying for a pet rabbit and was recently caught in the act of handing over hard earned cash at a horse show for a little fluffy bundle. Fortunately she was stopped in time. I'm sure as soon as she has a pet rabbit she'll realise how very, very boring they are.

Great blogby the way.

Nunhead Mum of One said...

Becks the rabbit doesn't do much but I tell you something: two minutes with a little fluffy bundle urging you to scratch his ears would cheer up the most hardened of souls. Such a pity that it's me that does the scratching because Mac, quite rightly says, "he doesn't do much does he?"

DD's Diary said...

Hello, VLIF, alas, Dill does speak French (part of B living-the-dream is having a fabulous French holiday house) and there certainly isn't a dull moment when he's around - are you sure you want to go further?? Not sure about the passport though - you could be safe! Am going to put link to your blog, is lovely

DD's Diary said...

Dear NMO, I do know what you mean ...though I feel sure that a week with darling Dilly will have me completely cured of the urge to scratch anyone behind the ears ....

The Accidental Author said...

Damn, damn, damn! Thanks for your kind words about my blog.