Captain Oreo

Fuzzy maguffin safe in his pen.

In third and fourth year undergrad, I helped make ends meet by house sitting for my professors. Nothing ever went wrong but I was always a little unnerved nonetheless by being accountable for someone else's stuff and, sometimes, someone else's pet.

I grew skilled and confident in my semi-profession of house sitter. And, like knowing how to ride a bike, I have kept those skills to this day.

So, when Bruce subcontracted to me for one day his commitment to take care of our friends' rabbit while they travelled in France, I felt up to the task. 

The charge at issue is Captain Oreo - a little two-colour bunny with a better name than anyone.

I headed over to Riverdale last Saturday morning, five pages of written instructions (not kidding) in hand. 

The old feeling of being slightly unnerved came along with me.

I have trouble with locks. Always have had. So it took me three tries and two looks at the written instructions before I got in the door.

Once inside, I knew exactly where the bunny was and what to. 

Bruce and the instructions both said to let the Captain lollop around the house while I changed his bedding, cleaned up rabbit poo, filled his water and feed bowls and prepared a rich, delicious half baby carrot for his lunch.

Bruce had included the detail that there was no concern about the bunny going up and down the stairs in the house, because both had been blocked off.

I let the Captain out of his cage. He took off to scoot around the house. I set about my chores. 

I had just put the Captain's refreshed water bowl down when I heard a *WHOMP*.

The treacherous cunning bunny had knocked down the picture -- canvas stretched on a wooden frame -- blocking the stairs to the second floor. 

"Hey!" I said.

I ran over to the stairs. Captain Oreo had climbed about halfway up.

"Hey! Hey!" I said again, and the Captain picked up speed as he climbed the rest of the stairs. I realized that yelling at the rabbit was a bad idea.

I climbed the stairs. I got to the top in time to see the Captain's tail disappearing under the bed in the master bedroom.

A montage played in my head. Me reaching under one side of the bed as the rabbit escaped out the other side. Me looking in one direction as the rabbit moseyed by in the other. Me opening a dresser drawer and the rabbit popping out ...

I abandoned the strategy of chasing the rabbit. Bruce had said the Captain could be lured with food, so I went downstairs, put the picture back in place to block the stairs so I would know where he was and finished cleaning his cage.

I went to the fridge to get a juicy tasty lettuce leaf to lure him and ... there was the goddam rabbit, in the hallway. He'd pushed the picture out of the way. I took one step toward him. He turned and ran back up the stairs.

Resolved to be better and smarter than a three-pound rodent, I laid a trail of lettuce bits on the floor for him leading from the stairs to his cage.

That was too clever. He got the first bit, noisily ate it and then just sat there. 

Stupid rabbit.

So, I shook his food bowl freshly charged with a small amount of rabbit pellets in his cage and he came running.

I took this week's picture after I'd locked the Captain in his cage. I sent it to the travelling family so they could see that I had not killed their rabbit.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen