You see, we are at a campground, or… maybe we've gone to Hell. I don't know when we died, but surely this is not where we want to end up. We are surrounded by rabbits… slow, dumb, domesticated, black, white and spotted bunnies… and
We spend half our days chasing bunnies at home. I don't understand why suddenly they are off limits. And these guys would be so easy to catch. Darn!
There are big ones,
and little ones...
and spotted ones…
and white ones…
some with perky ears,
and some with floppy loppy ears…
There are frickin' bunnies all over the place!!
And that Dreaming lady keeps telling us,
"No! You can't chase them!"
"Hey, can Tucker and Gypsy come out to play?"
They are bold.
They come right up to the motorhome and stare at us through the window.
They taunt us.
They tease us.
That Dreaming lady keeps us on a leash… a tight one at that. And we almost have to wade through the fuzzy creatures. She says they are cute. Mr. Dreaming says they are a nuisance. Gypsy and I don't care… we just want to chase them!
This is torture… canine style!