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09/24/2004 Entry: "Lil Weewaa Diary day two"

Lil Weewaa Diary day two

It cannot be ignored that Waboose is not simply shy, but rather has a strong dislike for me. When I approach his cage, he backs into the far corner and turns his back to me and folds his ears down. That is the second highest insult in Rabbit, the first being urinating on your stuff.

Humans are indeed capable of reading and even emulating the signals given in Rabbit. For example, you can bunch up your face to imitate Rabbit nose-wiggling. Rabbits respond to this, as do they to a loud sniff, which means anger, or turning of the back. I sat down and sang the buns a few Hank Williams Sr. tunes, and they listened intently because Rabbits love Hank. But then I got up and turned to find another songtext in the pile behind me, and Lil Wee, perhaps thinking I was upset, jumped out of her cage and hopped up to my foot. I didn't see her coming and lightly stepped on her foot by accident. Oops. Then she hightailed it back to safety. Still, I knew that she knew it was an accident and she gave signals letting me know that she knew that I knew that she knew that I didn't mean it.

Wee has the run of the pad, because I know she won't chew on any cables. I won't let Waa out unless he sits on my lap. An earlier attempt proved annoying because Waa, being so small, can crawl into or just about any tiny space anywhere. But today, I let them both socialize, keeping a watchful eye in case they start humping. They seem to get along well enough, but Waa did try to assume the position--albeit on the wrong end--and Wee put a stop to that, brother. She made her little cry of outrage and even bit the dude a couple times. I put him back in his house, and later when I showed him an open palm he charged me and swatted my hand with is paw. Eeek.

Only time and consideration can help me now to get on Waboose's good side.

Here is a neat website about Rabbit.

On another note, I bought another waterbottle for the buns, along with some more grain, hay, and carrots with tops. They prefer the greens, but like the root as well.
I looked for long underwear over at Hertie, and down in the bargain basement I saw something truly disturbing. They are selling off old manikins. A full-sized man goes for a hundred clams. He is built like Adonis, has Max Headroom hair and Mascara. The women are not so prodigiously endowed but have little stubs suggesting nipples. In the back stood half a dozen naked eight-year-old boys. None of the dummies sport genitals or orifices for that matter, but all had oversized bargain basement pricetags taped to their chest, readable from forty meters away. You can buy a naked little boy manikin for 45 Euros. The image was all too unsettling.