When people come to visit us, one of the first things they notice is the large dog cage behind our couch. “Oh, do you have a dog?” we are frequently asked. That’s when Tycho Bunnae hops into view, and people are like, “What the fuck is that?” Tycho, for those of you who have not had the pleasure of meeting him, is our giant white rabbit. By giant rabbit, I mean that he is almost 13 lbs. He’s just about the average size for his breed (New Zealand White).Husband and I bought our apartment about three years ago. We wanted to get a cat, but Husband and I are both allergic to kitties. I wouldn’t mind a dog, like a cute Corgi. I love those little critters, but Husband hates dogs and said I would come home and find it stuffed if I got one. (Husband says if he were mayor, he’d ban dogs and little children from Manhattan because they are too messy. He’s also contemplated what would happen if he fed poisoned Kibble to dogs that are not on leashes in areas they are legally required to be...) Plus, we are not really home enough to be fair to a dog, so I wouldn’t get one anyway.
Still, I wanted a furry pet. I did some research and learned that it is possible to litter box train rabbits, and presented the idea to Husband. He said no, but then I told him that rabbits kill bugs in the wild and we wouldn’t have to worry about the typical NYC "bug" problem if we got a bunny. In addition, I told him he could name the rabbit. He then agreed, although it scares me a bit that he believed that crap about bugs, as I totally made it up. (Later I learned that bugs are averse to the smell of litter, so getting Tycho probably did help.)Husband has always insisted that he would name his son Tycho Brahe (alt. spelling: Brahae) after the infamous Czech astronomer. Mr. Brahe’s measurements of the stars are so accurate that they hold up to this day. That is because Brahe beat his assistants senseless if they came up with different findings, so they were fairly rigorous in their scientific methodology. Brahe also was a man about the town, and he lost the tip of his nose one night in a sword fight. He had a gold tip made to replace it. Of course, Tycho Brahe may best be known for how he died. Brahe attended a feast hosted by the King of Prussia. At the time, it was not acceptable to leave the table until the King was finished. Unfortunately, this particular king was a fat motherfucker who liked to eat for hours on end, and poor Brahe had to piss. He had to piss really badly. In fact, he had to piss so badly that his bladder eventually exploded, killing him. He is buried in Prague, where he is memorialized in a local saying, which basically says that you should go to the bathroom when you get the urge because you don’t want to end up like Tycho Brahe.
Sadly, Tycho Bunnae has learned this lesson too well, as he likes to pretend that he does not know how to use his litter box and poop on the floor. For this reason (and worse, his love of peeing on the floor in select places), he no longer can roam the apartment freely, but must stay in his little penned in area, where he can make a mess on the gross rug and while it is annoying to clean all the time, it’s not destructive. Anyway, Tycho is not a hallucination. He loves raisins, bananas, and anything sweet (all very bad for him, of course) and being pet. Thus, he is a nice addition to our household, which concludes my completely random story about my ginormous pet rabbit.
Corrections:
ReplyDelete1. My original platform when seeking election to Mayor of New York City was to ban children and dogs from Manhattan and smoking from all five boroughs. I figured that would nicely triangulate three issues that voters could both cheer and jeer leading to confusion at the polls and my inevitable election.
2. Brahe died after attending a banquet hosted by Baron von Rosenberg, not the King of Prussia.