15, and the bunnies

Today marks the 15th anniversary of the day hub and I stood in a really cool building in Chicago, surrounded by the people we loved most, and bawled like babies.

[I could rhapsodize about him and our marriage, but that's private stuff. Let's just say that the last month or so has put us through stuff that could test any marriage and we're doing really well. Is all I'm saying.]

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So, I bring you a bunny update. No pics. Later, maybe.

Boeing is queen of the mushpile. She will stop almost anything, including eating, to be rubbed. This is why we chose her. She tooth purrs, which I've never heard another bunny do. But she doesn't give kisses. Maybe one day. Her feet are huge, at least for a mini rex. So are her ears.

Then there's Squeeze. Dear lord, that bunny. She is non-stop energy, in charge of the universe and a total pushy maniac. She gives kisses, but also gives little nips and is queen of the head butts. You in my way? Butt! Charming, especially in one so small. However, it's been just over a week and a half since her escape act, and she can no longer fit through the bars.

They're both still quite skittish, which is to be expected. Noises freak them out mightily. But they know us a little already and are very attentive to the sound of the pellets being loaded into their bowl. I hope to provide you with pics of them grooming each other, which is more frantic and goofy than beautiful and poetic.

Tomorrow, they both get to meet the head of the bunny spa (sssshhh: v.e.t.) for a meet-and-greet. There will be weighing. There will be Awwwwing. And we're looking for firm verification that Squeeze IS a she. It's easy to mix that up with tiny bunnies, and she was mighty tiny two weeks ago.

So that's all. Happy Thanksgiving weekend to my fellow Canadians.

[p.s. as much as I embrace all things Canadian, I still cannot get used to Thanksgiving in October, and I've lived up here since I was 6. Maybe I should just suck it up, eh?]