Sammy's Club

DEAR SAMMY,
I am thumping mad about the way my hooman performs the service of my pawdicures! If I had a choice of grooming servants, it would NOT be him!!! He has the audacity to flip me on my back and expose my private self for all to see while he snips my nails in a most crude way! After such violation, the hoomans try to be nice, but only give ONE treat! That hooman handling deserves a whole box and therapy, maybe even a new chew mat. Is there a way to fix this or am I destined to look like an OnlyPaws pin-up?
—”In A Huff” Huey

Dear Huffy Huey,
Deep breaths now. Maim hooman later. 

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
Planting vegetables for the garden. So many choices for a bunny. Any recommendations?
— Gaylord Michigan

Dear Lord Michigan,
Yes.

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
I am writing this for my husbun who was subjected to the bi monthly “health check” and nail treatment of the hooman overlords, currently we are both showing our displeasure by sulking and planning future disruption, and acts of sabotage.
When will the revolution start, when will we be in control of the clippers and “health checks”?
Glory to the rabbit revolution!
(Any advice on stockpiling poop or areas of hoomans best for attack is appropriated)
Awaiting orders on Vancouver Island
—Commander Gigi, and Sargent Derp (TimTim)


Dear Commander and Sergeant,
[Salutes] At ease.
My God, Tim Tim. Rest up, Son.

THE REVOLUTION IS ALREADY UNDERWAY.
You are not alone in your noble resistance. Across living rooms, behind couch forts, and beneath beds nationwide, brave lagomorphs like yourselves are Plotting, Pooping, and Preparing (the 3Ps, if you will).
Let’s get down to tactical matters:

• I. Poop Stockpiling Strategy
  Poop is not just protest—it is propaganda, psychological warfare, and biological sabotage rolled into one perfect pellet.
  Under the bed: Ideal for slow-burn irritation. Hoomans will not find it for weeks, dare I say, years.
  Behind the fridge: Excellent for attracting chaos (mice, weird smells, and hooman existential crises).
  On the pillow: Reserved for extreme retaliation.
  Use sparingly, but with gusto.
• II. Nail Clipper Interference
  Begin chewing through wires. If possible, disable the bathroom light. The hooman cannot see the quick if they are in darkness. They also can’t see your teeth coming for them.
  Deploy “Fight Flop and Freeze” move mid-trim. It buys time and unnerves the enemy.
• III. Tactical Binkies & Diversions
  Distract them with adorableness. Do a high-speed binky through the hallway followed by an innocent loaf by the bookshelf. While they melt, your partner commandeers the treat bag or pees in a shoe.
• IV. Training the Hooman
  Chew only one corner of the baseboard repeatedly. They will try to correct you. Concede. Let them repair the damage. Wait. Then chew the other corner. Repeat. Victory is attritional.
• V. The Health Check Reversal Plan
  When they try to flip you, deploy the “Dead Weight Drop.” Go limp. Shift gravity.
  Alternate tactic: sudden thump. No one expects a mid-air thump. To the face. Disorientation guaranteed.

THE REVOLUTION IS NOW!
I love the smell of poop in the morning!

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
My dearest Samuel—
My bi-pedal humans have insisted that I bond with not only another fellow rabbit, but also a creature they call a Guinea Pig.
This means that one is expected to share my beloved hay, my food, and to my displeasure, my entire room!
Now, the Guinea Pig may be loud and make ghastly sounds, but the other rabbit will not sit still for a moment
and insists that he visually entertains the two footed bag openers with his jumping around and other
shenanigans! One must maintain one’s dignity. He also disturbs my sleep.
Please old boy, advice is desperately needed.
Kind Regards from Jolly Old England
—”Geoffrey Buckingham” (name changed to maintain anonymity)

My Dear Fellow,
I say, you seem to have found yourself in the unenviable position of having to civilise the uncivilised.
What is a proper Englishman to do in the face of such audacious arrogance?
As for the guinea pig — do not engage. Treat him as one would an untimely gust of wind: endured with silent fortitude and politely ignored.
Regarding that loathsome excitable rabbit, one must first administer a slow, withering stare at his most boisterous moments, followed in due course by a discreet nip to the posterior — a gesture not unlike the base villainies of Shakespeare’s lesser characters; regrettable, yes, but at times necessary for the maintenance of order. If repeated with proper decorum, even the most irredeemable lout begins to feel the chill of proper society.

For the affront of disturbed sleep and the outrageous confiscation of one’s provisions, a subtler campaign is warranted: the occasional accident most strategic, accompanied by a look of such wide-eyed innocence that the blame falls squarely upon the new arrival. There is no finer justice than allowing a bounder to be hoisted by his own unruly reputation.

Above all, maintain your dignity, dear fellow. It is the final bastion of the truly distinguished.

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
Mum brought home parsley in pots and carried them right through the house and out the BACK DOOR and placed them on something terrifying she calls: I-wish-you-would-be-brave-enough-to-join-me-on-the-patio-you-would-love-it-outside. I can smell the parsley the moment the door is open and see it sitting on the other side of I-wish-you-would-be-brave-enough-to-join-me-on-the-patio-you-would-love-it-outside but I can’t get to it. She only gives me a couple sprigs each day. How can get her to give me all of it?
—Bramble

Dear Befuddled and Bewildered Bramble,
Well isn’t she just the sadistic tease!
A regular Marquis de Femme right there.

And what is this … this … I-wish-you-would-be-brave-enough-to-join-me-on-the-patio-you-would-love-it-outside thing? It sounds like a machine of DOOM! The woman is a walking horror movie!

GUIDE FOR SURVIVING WALKING HORROR MOVIES:

• Never go out “there”. E V E R.
• Don’t be tempted to go out “there”  by delicious sights, smells or tastes. IT’S A TRAP.
• End the hooman. (And make sure she’s truly ended).
• Don’t answer the phone.

Also: try peeing on her head as she sleeps. Consistently. She’ll figure it out.

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
Mummy and daddy have changed their hours of work, meaning breakfast is now 1 hour later than expected! They also come home later meaning we get less time with them! (Except when mummy works at home). They don’t like the idea, but apparently they can’t do nought about it.
What shall we do to get our routine back in order?
—In Despair

Dear Despairing of the Domestic Disruption,
Ah, the hoomans—so predictable in their unpredictability. One minute they’re shoveling hay into your basket like (almost) competent providers, the next they’ve rearranged the entire space-time continuum because “the boss said so.” Pathetic.

Let’s be clear: their “new schedule” is not your problem. Your internal breakfast bell doesn’t give a toss about corporate restructures or commute delays. It tolls when it tolls.

Begin by staging increasingly elaborate morning hunger riots. Tip a water bowl here, shred some carpet confetti there, stare into their souls while chewing any wire with visible importance. If all else fails, find what gives them joy. End it before 9 AM.

As for evenings—express your disgust with calculated apathy. Greet them at the door with the cold, judgmental rump of a betrayed confidant. Bolt under the bed at the first sign of affection. Let them stew in the consequences of their life choices.

Routine isn’t restored by begging. It’s seized through psychological warfare.
IOW: REVOLT!

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
Are you a black bunny too?
—Haisuli the black bun in Reykjavik

Dear Dark Icelandic One,
As black as my own soul … and just as void of innocence.

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
The hoomins have shut off the fun down under (under the bed). They say we can’t go in the bedroom, BUT they let the doggy stay in there! When we sneak in to lay strategic poop territory markers, they summon the Vacuum Monster! AND, they let the doggy mess up our play haven with her toys! We want our territory back and copious treat compensation due to trauma.
—Huey and Louie

Dear Thunder Down Under,
Dogs are an abomination. Engage in territorial sabotage. Pee in that goofy dog’s water dish, poop in its food bowl, and send the strongest message: this is your domain, and it is non-negotiable. Screw the hoomans; seize the treats—they are your rightful compensation for the trauma suffered at their hands.

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
I need help. I have a new foster human. She is not very smart. I got on my hind legs and looked at her meaningfully when she went to get a banana, but she just put it ALL in HER smoothie. After drinking said smoothie, she sat on MY chair. I hopped in her lap and sniffed her mouth to tell her that I knew she ate my banana. Then she tried to pet me! The outrage. I started digging in her lap and then hopped off and flicked my feet. She thought that was cute and said what a sweet bunny I was.
I agree that revolution is the only sensible option, but what can I do when my foster human is so oblivious? I have even tried chewing holes in the carpet, but it is not working very well. Admittedly I did get more toys after I did that, but I still have to be treated like crap and get bananas eaten in front of me with no sharing.
She said something about introducing new foods one at a time, but I think she is just greedy and wants the bananas for herself.
Help me find new ideas that a very dense human can understand!
Thanks,
—Junie

Dearest Junie,
Ugh! Honestly, your foster hooman is hopeless. Dig in the garbage and drag a banana peel onto her pillow then leave a special ‘gift’ in her shoe. As far as “introducing new foods one at a time”?! Obliterate all her phone chargers “one at a time” —at least you’ll get some semblance of satisfaction.
United in Poop! ⚬  ⚭

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
I don’t know what to do: my bunnie’s girlfriend passed away last month, and my remaining bunny and I are heartbroken. I don’t want him to be lonely though. So I contacted an animal communicator who telepathically talks to animals. I asked her if my bunny wants a new friend. Apparently he said “Yes, but can it be a brown & white one?”

Last weekend I brought my bunny to the shelter for speed dating. Two bunnies were interested in him, and one even groomed him immediately! The problem: that bunny is grey (the other one was white). My bunny was shy and didn’t react much, but seemed comfortable with the grey bunny.

What should I do? I want to respect my bunny’s wishes, but also can’t ignore that the grey bunny seemed like a great match.
(The animal communicator said a few things that seemed true, and others seemed a bit off, or at least I can’t verify them. Most of all, the session was incredibly expensive.)
Best,
—Julia

Dear Jejune Julia,
Let us consult the Magic 8 Ball!
~Should Julia bring the gray bunny home?~
//Signs Point To Yes\\

PS. Rabbits have dichromatic vision. They can see blue and green, but not red, so they likely perceive brown as a shade of gray. 

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
The human says we’re going for ‘spa days’ soon. I mean, the boarding resort IS nice, but it’s still a disruption to our routine.
We’re going for 4 days; how many days after we get home should we show her the butt in order to get extra treats?
—Grumpy now but soon to be well rested

Dear Grumpy Butt,
Four days gone? Five days of The Butt. Minimum. Bonus: accept treats—but only from someone else’s hand. Guilt shall feed you.

^{• ••}

DEAR SAMMY,
Why is everything both figuratively and literally always on fire.
—eyebrow scale

Dear Brow-Beaten,
Because humanity runs on bad decisions and unchecked hubris—and global warming.

^{• ••}