Altogether Falling Apart

I bought a rabbit at a pet store. The young girl there told me it eats cables, "So, you have to lift your cables, or cover them somehow." I asked them if there were any other issues. "No, not really."

Hey, you know what? It also eats wooden furniture, plastic toys, the buttons off of remote controls (try finding "menu" with nothing but jagged nubs for buttons), book covers and pages, strands of carpet (imagine tiny holes where the carpet used to be) and anything foam.

You know what else it does that I LOVE? It jumps on my freshly baked trout when I set the plate down on the coach for a second.

Oh, and it bites my mom sometimes.

You know what else is sweet? All the tiny rabbit poops under my bed.

Oh, here's something. Rabbits have an extra stage in their digestion. They eat their food, then they poop out these little things called cecotropes. No, not those cute little vitamin-like droppings you see scattered here and there. No, no. This is something else. Don't worry. You've never seen cecotropes. And you haven't seen them because the rabbit eats them straight out of its own ass. You think I'm making this up because it is the most ridiculous, nightmarish thing you have ever heard, but, I'm not making this up. I could never think of anything quite that bad. So, anyway, the rabbit eats it's food, then a little while later it decides to poop out the partially digested version of that food and enjoy it in a whole new way. Then it poops out those little perfect balls that look like Sixlets without the candy coating.

Also, my daughter loves the rabbit, who incidentally is named Hiccups (the rabbit, not my daughter) so it isn't going anywhere. Sometimes I imagine Hiccups sailing out of the eighth story window of our apartment. Ah, what a peaceful silent journey. "It's been real Hiccups. It's been so very, very real. Say hello to your cecotropes for me, would you?"