So it’s time to start catching you up. We’ll rewind to December 7th, 2019. The day of The Invasion.
It started off as an absolutely wonderful day. It was the Saturday of Mama’s birthday camping trip. We had a beautiful site with a lake view. Everyone was in a good mood: Mama was thrilled to have Big Rabbit off work and she had all these plans for the day, starting with a run with Big Rabbit. Little Girl was happily reading and eating her miniature chocolate doughnuts at the dinette. I had been properly cared for and was looking forward to some quiet time, dozing in between watching Little Girl be happy. It was set up to be a fantastic day. Then it all went terribly wrong.
Shortly after leaving (too short of a time for a run), Big Rabbit came back, all mysterious, had Little Girl change into day clothes, and had her leave with him. Highly suspicious. From afar, I could hear Little Girl start squealing. I couldn’t make out anything she said, but I was pretty sure they were happy squeals…hmmm…
I heard them all return to the campsite, Little Girl chattering excitedly. Mama sounded worried. Big Rabbit came into the camper and poured some milk into one of the small paper bowls Mama always has on hand, then went back outside. I caught a snippet of Mama saying, “Freedom’s going to kill me!” This definitely did not sound good. It wasn’t, but I had no idea what was going on at that point. Mama came in, with a look of extreme guilt and acting nervous. She talked in that too sweet, too high voice, telling me how wonderful I am and she’s sorry they’re going to be gone a while, and to have an open mind. I was about to foot stomp, but Mama quickly delivered a carrot. Distracted by the carrot, I watched her fill my condo with plenty of food for the day with apprehension. She pet me and told me how perfect I was again, then with anxious looks, left and locked the camper.
They were gone all day! Finally, I heard the crunch of our car tires, or at least what I had hoped was our car tires, as it sounded like it parked in the same spot they had left from. Relief washed over me as I heard little girl’s high pitched voice. She was happy. Until that day, it was always a good sign. Not that day. As they approached, I could tell they were carrying bags. They must have gone shopping. Why all the mystery? And why was I going to kill Mama?
Then they piled into the camper. A distinct smell that has never, ever, invaded either the house nor either of our campers hit my nostrils and my entire body tensed. There was another animal in my home. Not good. I stared at the black carrier that Big Rabbit put at the other end of the living room. All I could see was black, until two small, lamplight eyes glowed from within. My world was about to change forever. And I was probably going to kill Mama.