More Garfield News...

No, we haven't just thought of a new way to torture Garfield. As you may remember from a previous post, Garfield had a hernia, induced by his toothless mother at birth. After consulting the veterinarian, we decided to go through with surgery, because without surgery, Garfield could die a terrible death with his intestines spilling out of his belly. So we chose the less painful route, hernia surgery. I think it was quite simple, just a little cut, tucking the intestines back in, and sewing Garfield's belly back together. He was able to come home the same afternoon, still drunk on anaesthesia. At the moment Garfield is confined to the kitchen, where he can hurt himself the least, limited to pacing around like this and colliding with the furniture. Maybe this weekend, after the collar is off, he can venture into other areas of the apartment, and perhaps even onto the balcony, where he can hiss at the much larger neighbor cats.

The Tables Have Turned




















Waboose used to only take on animals much larger than him, such as humans.
But now, after just a couple days of fear and irritation, Waboose has started venting his frustrations on little Garfield. I've known cats in my life who stalk deer, and scare the deer, I even read an article last week about a cat that chased a bear up a tree (and interestingly, all of these cats have had gold fur like Garfield), but now things are a little different. In the first days of Garfield's presence at our house, Waboose's keen bunny instincts told him "this animal = danger!" But now, his attack bunny ways have prevailed, leading to aggression against the little cat. It's really quite cute. If Garfield comes within about one foot of Waboose, Waboose charges and grunts. Garfield tends to back away slowly from Waboose, or run away quickly, depending on how surprised he is, all the while hissing and puffing out his soft kitty fur. Especially adorable is when Waboose creeps up behind Garfield, sniffing the tip of his tail. Garfield notices only after this has been occuring for a good amount of time, and upon noticing, springs up, runs away, and from a safe distance, turns back hissing fiercely. The best action must have happened this afternoon, however. Waboose chased Garfield in circles on the rug in the living room! This is getting better every day.















Wee finds all of this very curious.
















Waboose stalks Garfield...














...Garfield hisses angrily.










Garfield goes bunny hunting.

Kitty!, Part II














Kitty, whose official name is Garfield, is now home in Dresden. Unlike his half brother who moved to Leipzig, he did not vomit in the car on the way, much to our relief. He did, however, urinate in the bunny cage upon discovering it. Fortunately, the bunnies weren't home at the time, they were lounging on the rug in the living room. Their introduction was prior to this event, and it wasn't much better. Wee reacted coolly, just looking at the new addition to the family with her crooked head, while Waboose immediately fled to the nearest sheltered corner. Wee is taking the new addition very well, following him around and sniffing him when he least expects it. Garfield hisses at the bunny when he notices her attention. He's more interested in Waboose, because Waboose is rather high-strung and stamps his foot if Garfield even looks in his direction. The two haven't come much closer than a few feet apart. Wee has already ventured nose-to-nose with the cat, which doesn't seem to bother her as much as it bothers him.

















Wee and Garfield seem to get along already!













Here you can see crazy Uncle Waboose hiding under the sofa.

As seems to be a trend with the animals at my house, Garfield has a medical condition. He has a hernia, probably caused by his toothless mother gnawing off his umbilical cord shortly after his birth. This condition can be very dangerous for a cat, but the good news is, this can be repaired. According to what I found in my research on the internet, it shouldn't even be too expensive. So we'll see what the good Dr. Fischer says sometime this week.

Rock'n'roll baby















Research shows that babies recognize music after birth which was played before their birth outside the womb. In addition, babies in some intensive care units are played rock music to calm them because the drum beat is like a mother's heartbeat. Using this knowledge and my raw nerves yesterday evening due to a certain crying baby at my house, we rocked to some AC/DC yesterday evening. Sure enough, after hearing "Big Balls", "Girl's Got Rhythm (Backseat Rhythm)", and "Whole Lotta Rosie" and dancing along to it, baby Willy was out like a light. I don't know if I could sleep to AC/DC, but it did the trick for Willy. At the moment, true to his Michigan roots, he's listening to the Raconteurs, and it seems to be quite pleasing even to a wakeful Willy. But of course he's predisposed to Jack White's music, he was at a White Stripes concert back in October when he was probably only about the size of a walnut or so.

Degenerate Toys

When two people have a child, friends and acquaintances are often led astray by the best of intentions and bestow upon the child degenerate toys. Degenerate toys are those toys which do not reflect a reasonable system of values and which will ultimately lead the unknowing child down a lifelong path of trials and tribulations. With this list, we would like to spare baby Wilhelm these trials and tribulations. If any of these degenerate toys are found within a 50 meter radius of Willy, they will be immediately seized and destroyed most completely.

-Police-related playthings: Any figures, be they in human or animal likeness or in the likeness of any mode of transportation with any police markings of any color and sort and in any language are unacceptable.

-Winnie the Pooh and friends: This bear and his friends should be so extremely cute that it has the opposite effect, plus he can't spell. This is a bad influence.

-Dogs: We don't like dogs.

-Anything baby blue or pink: We don't feel the need to declare Willy's gender or fashion sense with either of these colors.

-Things that make noise: Anything that generates a noise for no reason. For example, stuffed animals which speak, vehicles with engine or honking noises, percussion instruments.


Acceptable Playthings

While there are playthings that can lead little Willy down the false path in life, there are also acceptable playthings which can help to shape him into a sensible young man. For example:

-Motorcycles: Fast and fun, plus they promote motor development.

-Real cars: These are the size of a sedan, minimum. American models preferred. Hydraulics optional.

-Leather clothes: Only black, pants and jackets. No fringe, no cowboy style.

-Kitties and bunnies: These animals are superior to all others. But please only likenesses, we have enough of the real thing.

Kitty!




















We're getting a kitty, and here he is! He still lives with his mom, because he's still nursing and learning how to hunt. But in just a few short weeks, he will enter the domain of Wee and Waboose and probably forget entirely that he is a cat. Preparations for kitty have been going on for months, the whole reason we took this apartment back in January is because it's on the ground floor, facilitating easy cat exit and entry via the balcony. Consultations with the vet have also already taken place, and cat-bunny relations should be no problem.


















Isn't this the most precious kitty you've ever seen? So precious, in fact, that he may be stolen. Word has it that here in Dresden-Neustadt, gold cats are often stolen because they are rare and desirable. And having a look around the neighborhood, there are an awful lot of gray, black and strangely patterned calico cats, ranging from pretty to horribly ugly and strange, but I only know one handsome gold tabby. And to support the cat thief rumor, we did spot a missing cat sign yesterday evening from the sad owners of Leo, a little golden kitty nearly as cute as ours.

Deutsche Riesen
My trip to visit the German giant rabbits.



















A couple years ago, one of my students told me about German giants and I thought it was some kind of fairy tale, but yesterday I saw with my own eyes that these rabbits really do exist. And they are fantastically giant! My bunnies weigh in at about one and a half kilograms, these guys are small at 5 kilos, and can weigh up to 11 kilograms or so. The big mother rabbits I saw yesterday were about 5 times the size of my bunny Waboose. Imagine, a rabbit the size of a medium dog! And the ears of an adult are longer than one of my whole bunnies!

The real reason for this trip was to go to a birthday party about a half hour drive outside of Dresden, and it was just an added bonus that the farmer next door has a 3-story stall of German giants. It's possible to buy one for just €5, but what would I do with a rabbit the size of a beagle? They are really exquisite, with their size and giant floppy airplane wing ears, but it couldn't live with Wee and Waboose, it would probably beat them up and eat them. And there's no way I want to raise one of these adorable guys and then let a certain someone eat him or her for Christmas...they are, after all, intended for eating. So I guess I'll just have to wait on getting my German giant until I have a house or at least more space for bunnies.















Some of the babies we saw yesterday (and the one I wanted) looked like this, already the size of my regular dwarf rabbits! Others were all black, gray or brown.

The pictures above aren't mine, they are from these sites where you can learn more about or buy Deutsche Riesen:
http://www.deutsche-riesen.com/html/galerie.html
http://www.dhd24.com/archiv/index.php?anzid=4320637

PEZ!































Here's how my German PEZ collection looks. It's finally on display! It's really nothing compared to my real PEZ collection, which I think now resides in boxes at an undisclosed location, but nonetheless impresses visitors with its strangeness.

Grill Test




















After a mega shopping spree on Saturday, we just had to test out the new grill. Somebody seems to like this particular placement of Waboose, and claims that the next time he eats the plants on the balcony, this'll be the last place he sits...















...but if you were a little bunny, wouldn't you want to sample those delicious greens, too?

Will I look like this soon?
Probably. Now that the weather has gotten quite summery, all the babies who live in my building are hanging out in the yard and screaming for no apparent reason. It scares me a bit, considering my own impending arrival.

The other day at work, a male colleague was asking another colleague of mine and me how exactly one knows when to go to the hospital when expecting a baby. His take on the situation was that it seemed like a good, safe idea to go a day or so early. My first thought was "hasn't this guy seen any films where people have babies?" My second thought was "how are you supposed to know which day is the day before you're going to have the kid?" Okay, so films aren't the most reliable source of information on this subject, for example, the water doesn't usually break right around the time you need to head off to the hospital to have the little guy. But in films they do show people timing contractions, and when they are a certain time apart, that's when you should start on the way to the hospital (or wherever you want to have the kid).

Enough on that subject. Here's a little something from Germany that cracks me up every time I see it. It is a real catalogue for baby stuff, and that is the real name.

All we can do now is remember you, White Rabbit















It was clear that it was just a matter of time. White Rabbit's demise had been impending for a time, but he held up for longer than expected. I was informed a couple weeks ago that the inspiration for this blog's name had been sandblasted away, and after having a look for myself, I must confirm that this is true. This building or renovating or whatever it is they are doing to those buildings up off Tannenstraße opposite the MDR buildings has been going on for at least a year, and the outer plaster has now been removed from the buildings, and in the process, so has White Rabbit.

But there are still other rabbits to see out on the streets!

















like Schoko...




















...or Drunk Bunny...














...or if you're really lucky, you might just find a Bunnee on the street!
(okay, so this one I ripped off from Found magazine...)

Goats don't like garlic.













"You're not allowed to feed the goats!" scolded an old lady who'd been hovering around, and then with incredible speed came over to me, swatted my arm 3 times, and then informed me of this half-truth. You see, at the Dresden Zoo, you are allowed to feed the goats, but only with feed from the feed machine, for which you have to pay. We just happened to have some garlic with us, and wanted to see if they would eat that, too. I mean, they are goats, and goats eat everything, right? Well, not these ones. They took the garlic all right, as they take everything from an open hand, chewed it approximately twice, then screwed up their faces and spit the garlic right out. Hm. You would think garlic tastes at least better than a tin can, but apparently not to a goat!

Wer zu Ostern mit den Eiern spielt, bekommt zu Weihnachten die Bescherung.

The somewhat less charming English translation of this bit of German wisdom would be:

She who plays with eggs (what's really meant is "balls") at Easter gets her present at Christmas.

My students told me this yesterday and said "You were playing with the eggs too early!! hahaha!!"

I HATE DOGS















Yesterday I was just out for a quick hop in the yard because the sun was shining. You will note my adherence to the leash law (which is really for dogs, they're the ones who make trouble). Then along came this guy,







no leash, sniffing in my face. My keen bunny instincts told me he was bad news, so I took off, slightly disadvantaged by my harness and leash. Fortunately, it was a cheaply-made leash which promptly broke and I took cover by the trash cans. I think my owner was more worried than I was, she said some expletives which she normally doesn't, and came looking for me, after risking her own safety by restraining the dog until the owner showed up with the leash. I let her catch me, because she seemed pretty wound up. After that, me and Wee retreated to the safety of the balcony for a bit more fresh air. The good thing that came out of all this was that I got a cool new 5-meter long retractable leash!

My Favorite Thing About Easter






Call me a heathen, and you wouldn't be too far off. You know I'm not religious (or if you didn't, you know now), so I can't make up any hokey stories about the meaning of life or anything here, my favorite thing about Easter is really the Cadbury Creme Egg. I love the font on the packaging, I love the little chicken on the foil, I love the Cadbury bunny. When I was little, the creme eggs were the most exciting thing in my Easter basket, because they were always a little bit hidden because they are so heavy that they sink into the Easter grass. They were something that I saved. I first savored the different colored jelly beans, always searching to the bottom of my basket for the best ones (definitely red, orange, purple or white), always leaving the weird tasting colors like green or yellow and the bitter black ones for last. Usually the marshmallowy things were next, and the chocolatey things, and the creme egg was always saved for a special moment, when I would carefully peel off the foil (the best creme eggs are the ones where the foil doesn't stick to any sticky creme egg juice seeping from the egg, this means the fondant filling will be runny and soft, not hardened). Mmmm. I remember holding the heavy creme egg in my little hand, and how heavy it was compared to the other candies. This was clearly a sign of its goodness.

Now that I've gotten older, I think I've experienced some Easters with no creme eggs whatsoever, but I've blocked these from my memory. My mom knows what's important in life, and she sent me a box with a four-pack of creme eggs this week. My youthful savoring of the creme eggs has changed to a ravenous devouring of them, but I still enjoy them in the same way. But before I got my hands on my delicious creme eggs from over the ocean, I encountered a person with no reverence for creme eggs whatsoever: the postal delivery man. I'm sure he threw my creme eggs on the floor. The corner of the box was clearly dented, and I witnessed him throwing down an armload of packages for other people in my house when he came to my door. Actually, he didn't just come to my door, he ran to my door, as I've since seen him do in other parts of the neighborhood. Plus, I've heard the telltale crash of boxes when he enters a house. So this is normal practice for him. Is this guy crazy? Does he not know what precious cargo these boxes could hold? You can't buy creme eggs in this country, so obviously he has no idea what kind of blasphemy he is committing, but still, it isn't right to mistreat any package that way. Anyway, as soon as I saw him throw down the boxes, I thought "This can't be good". And then I saw on the customs slip on my box that it contained creme eggs. And the first thing I thought was "They're cracked." In my mind's eye, I could see their cracked chocolate shells and fondant running out, others with the foil sticking to the egg, a telltale sign of horrible disappointment. And sure enough, the top of one was broken, so broken in fact, that there was a hole, allowing air to reach the normally pleasantly highly viscous fondant, making it slightly hard. You see, the best way to eat a creme egg is to bite off the top, and suck the fondant out. But this isn't possible with a creme egg in which the fondant has experienced this kind of air exposure. You might as well just throw it away. But I forced myself to eat even that creme egg, because, let's be honest, I can't just go out to the store and buy some new ones, peeling them one by one until I find the best. And I'm certainly not in England, where they have vending machines in the train station selling creme eggs!












And now you can even knit clothes for the creme egg. OK, this person didn't put a creme egg in the picture, but if you go to the pattern for these, you will see that the name is "Cadbury Bunny Pattern". Obviously, this is a person with a passion for creme eggs. A passion so great it has driven this individual to dress the creme eggs. I think that's fantastic.

High Water!

In many parts of Saxony and Bavaria, there is springtime high water and flooding at the moment. This year there's more than there normally is, because there was a great deal of snow this winter, plus it got warm quickly and rained at the same time in the Czech Republic, sending an awful lot of water our way. This has caused a lot of headaches and concern for many people who live near the river. Hopefully this weekend was as bad as it will get, there are plenty of people with water in their basements and who've even hadto leave their homes . Here's a look at things here in Dresden on the Elbe...
































































This view of the city may look normal, but usually there is a lot less water.

This is about all I'm capable of at the moment.

We're practicing...

Imagine being a guy and going to England to take an English course. Years after the English course, your married host father sends you this card. What would you think?

The Story of Waboose




















Waboose's early days with us, before Wee had fully accepted him

The question came up of whether Waboose is a lionhead rabbit, and the answer is, I don't know. I imagine he's a mutt rabbit of some sort. He and Wee both came from Panama, the children's playground and petting zoo here in the Neustadt. Wee was free, they had baby bunnies to give away in the summer of 2003, Waboose cost €8, and was sort of a pity purchase back in September 2004 because there was a sign hanging on the cage that said if the little guys weren't sold by the end of September, they'd become food for the crocodile at the Dresden Zoo. That made me shudder, as I do every time I go past the crocodile pit and read how he eats a live chicken or rabbit once a week, and as you probably know, I'm a sucker for such things. So Waboose joined us back then, with me not knowing what he is, and not really caring because he was cute. Wee, on the other hand, had a different opinion. She must have found him adorable, but still felt the need to establish her dominance. The relationship between the two got off to a rather rocky start, as you can see below.



















Upon their first meeting, Wee promptly urinated on Waboose. Upon following meetings, she beat him up and sometimes even tore out a little hair, as you can see above. No blood was ever shed, and they always had seperate living quarters until, one day, they just started sharing the bigger cage, and never looked back at the small cage. Until now. Wee has developed a terrible eye infection, and her course of antibiotics has lead to a seperation once again. This is because Waboose should not clean the infected eye, as he was doing. He still can come visit Wee for a couple hours a day, so he doesn't think she died or something. And it seems that he's enjoying his new bachelor bunny life. He's built a nest in the corner, and often reclines on his bunny rug. I think the new peace and quiet is good for Wee, as well, and I hope it helps her to achieve a speedy recovery! If not, the vet said one eye may need to be removed, due to the infected lid and a detached lens in this eye, with which she has always had problems, but which took a sudden turn for the worse last weekend. Her name will then be changed to Weeclops.

But if you'd like to see a friend of Wee and Waboose's, go here: http://merlinlein.blogspot.com/
Merlin seems to be a lionhead rabbit, plus, he's just darn cool. Wee and Boose visit him and his bunny friends sometimes, and I think Wee has a crush on him, which, of course, does not please Waboose. But Wee is such a tease, she had a baby with Najimo, a flatmate of Merlin's, a couple years ago...I'm glad Waboose can't make babies!