Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! It’s Bunny Day! My favorite! I love Bunny Day because I get to run as fast as my paws will go, chase the bunny, and then… well, usually Mom comes over and takes it before I can fully investigate. But not today. Today was… different.
It started off normal. The bunny was zooming, I was zooming—it was amazing! But then, halfway through, the bunny vanished! What kind of sorcery is this?! I spun around. No bunny. I sniffed the air. No bunny. I even ran in some extra fancy circles to look heroic. Still no bunny.
So, I figured maybe I was supposed to just run to the end, you know, to keep things professional. I trotted to the finish line and waited for Mom. She took a while. She was waddling toward me like a bundled-up penguin, with stuff dripping from her face. Humans are so weird sometimes.
But then—plot twist—the trainer said we weren’t done! What?! He made us go all the way back to where the bunny stopped. Do you know how far that is? It’s like a million sniff-lengths!
Finally, we got there, and oh wow, there was the bunny! Just sitting there, waiting for me. Mom let me go, and I zoomed. I grabbed it, and guess what? Today’s bunny was special. It wasn’t just the usual plastic toy—it had fur! And it smelled amazing. So, naturally, I stuffed the whole thing in my mouth. All of it. This bunny was my masterpiece.
Mom showed up a little later, looking very dramatic. “Let it go, Mickey,” she said. I was like, Nope. This is my bunny. I caught it fair and square.
She started tugging on it. Ha! Nice try. She even took off my muzzle, thinking she’d outsmart me. Amateur move, Mom. Then she started wiggling her fingers in my mouth, but I kept my jaw clamped like the champion I am.
That’s when the trainer came over. He said something like, “Still cuddling?” (which was rude, by the way). Then he tapped me on the nose. Just a little tap. And BOOM—my mouth popped open, and the bunny escaped! I couldn’t believe it! One second I was the king of Bunny Land, and the next, I was standing there with nothing but mud and betrayal.
Mom started laughing, and the trainer looked all proud, but they don’t get it. That bunny and I had a connection. I tasted victory, and it was glorious.
Still, I let it slide. They looked happy, and I like it when Mom’s happy. Plus, I’m already planning my next move. Next Bunny Day, I’ll be quicker, smarter, and maybe bring some duct tape for my mouth.
For now, though, I’ll just nap. Chasing bunnies and outsmarting humans is exhausting work.
