Wednesday, August 04, 2004

Bring Your Rabbit to Work Day was great fun until it happened. I was heading back to my desk to grab some Sweet&Low for Simone's double frothy-latte when Francesca blurted out, "Oh Fernando, Little Bunnie Foofoo nipped me!" I turned, and even from where I stood I could see that drop of glistening blood welling up out of her forefinger, so red and shiny and heavily scented with hemoglobin. "Oh crap!" I thought. Everybody knows that rabbits were only domesticated a short while ago. Why only a scant handful of generations past they were the most feared carnivores in the northern hemisphere, traveling in packs, hunting down moose, elk, and Norwegian virgins.

Fernando was busy protesting, "Foofoo would never nip you! She has the best manners and her obedience coach says she is ready for level seven training!" his accent stronger than Simone's coffee beverage. And all around my thirteen co-workers the fourteen rabbits and hares sat quietly sniffing, their cute button noses flaring in and out. Missy Muffet, Dominique's darling Belgian Hare, turned and with a quick swipe of her paw, disemboweled Fernando, who instantly stopped recounting Little Bunny Foofoo's outstanding traits and instead decided to scream very loudly. As did the other twelve co-workers as Simone's small Lilac, Percival Fancypaws, amputated Gwen's left arm and my overweight Cavy, Glinta Glitterears, made blood sausage out of Olive M. Meanwhile Olive P. was trying to crawl away as Charley's spotted Holland Lop nibbled off her toes.

I turned and ran away, ran as fast as I could, knowing that an enraged Netherland Dwarf, like Ashley's charming Fortescue, has been clocked darting at 40 miles an hour. I just made it, slamming the door shut as Fortescue barked in anger, his sharp nails tearing into the lower panel. A call to 911, and a few minutes later the SWAT team arrived and well, if you really need to know, those rabid rabbits bit the dust as the hot SWAT guys put their terrorist rabbit training to good work. Except they missed little Sasha, who scurried into the ductwork and worked her way into the sewers and then loped away from the office. Who knows where she will show up, or what evil she will do? Every night I lie awake, listening for the soft patter of her paws, and the angry screech of a rabbit with blood lust on her mind.

Sasha, at work today.

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