I’m enough!

Now some of you will know I have been a little concerned about Poppy being an only rabbit. I have read lots of articles which talk about how sociable rabbits are and so I have been back and forth over whether or not I needed to add another rabbit to my life.

Of course the thought of adding up another rabbit created its own set of questions and concerns. Namely cost, but then space and the whole bonding of rabbits and what happens if they don’t bond… I have spent a lot of time mulling over the whole thing.

However today I went for a walking into town. I was on the hunt for some piping to use behind my settee, so that when Poppy goes behind it she can’t chew the skirting boards, or the carpet or the BACK. OF. MY. SETTEE! I went into a local odds and ends store and come across two lovely elderly gentlemen who apparently in past lives used to breed rabbits.

They identified the type of rabbit Poppy is. Apparently she is an Agouti; which is the closest to wild rabbit you can get from a pet rabbit (see I already sound cleverer, although they probably explained it better!) and after talking about ways to get her out of the biting habits I hit a pet shop and spent a small fortune on entertaining toys for her, so she could chew on those rather than on my stuff!

However, the one interesting thing I did learn was that actually this need for a second rabbit may not be necessary. Apparently if she is spending a large amount of time outside of the hut, she may in fact see me as a second rabbit and be completely happy.

Woo hoo

Getting back out there

So it’s a month (ish) since a lost BD and for the most part I am doing ok. I have come up with a few coping mechanisms, I wish him goodnight and tell his picture I love him most evenings and if ever I feel myself getting upset I try and distract my thoughts by announcing that I hate my ex. It helps that I have a brilliant friend who has promised that if she ever sees Bd again she will tell him how much I love him and that I didn’t want to go and I like to hope that somehow on some level all the vibes and thoughts and love I am sending to him are getting there and he knows I didn’t abandon him.

However, as well as missing my big cuddle monster. I am missing the time I spent walking with him so much. It was my time to think. As we wandered over hills and down dales, I would let me mind wander and I found I could work though stuff (yes, I may have spent the entire walk chattering away my problems with him) and I found that walking released my creative juices and I would come back from the walk with 3 or 4 blog stories to share with you guys.

But now I’m not walking. Heading into hills alone is a little too scary, at least while the nights are still dark, and I am very aware that an hour walking is an hour away from Poppy. She is such a bright, intelligent little thing I hate the amount of time she spends alone and so taking an hour out to walk seems a little selfish. Especially as I have other commitments which take me away from her most evenings. But by not walking I find myself starring at the blank screen which is my blog, with no idea what I should be writing.

I need to get back into those hills and once again reclaim them as my own. When I broke up with he who shall not be named, Bd and I hit the hills and together we reclaimed them. Slowly as I walked the same paths memories of me and the ex become replaced with memories of me and BD. I’m scared to go there alone.

Bd became my reason to get up in a morning after the split. His stupid grin and general BDness brought smiles when I thought I would never smile again. I don’t want to face our hills without him. I don’t want to face our hills alone. I’ve battled through so much over the last few years, overcame heartache that I never thought I would. When will I have battled enough?

Why do things change when you care what they think?

Now I would like to start by clarifying that I have not taken the leap from spinster to loved up quite yet. I am in the very early stages of talking to a guy whose sense of humor I like; but I am the very epitome of once bitten, twice shy (especially as this will be the third bite!)

We spent all of last night back and forth in conversation and have been pretty much the same today, well as much as both of our work commitments will allow. The problem is I have reached that point where I am a little interested, and suddenly I find myself worrying, far more than I should, about what this total stranger will think of my responses.

It’s something I am aware I have done all my life, despite being very aware of how stupid it is. I am me, a guy finds me attractive and then suddenly I become this new me. The one who I think won’t scare off the guy I like. It’s not his doing, in fact when I broke up with he who shall not be named, he mentioned how once the break up had happened I revert back to this young, fun ‘old’ me. I once again became the me he had fallen in love with.

So how do I stop myself doing it? Todays panic was I had joked about us getting together to introduce each other to our favourite films and then when he responded said “that’s what I have you for’ and suddenly I was worried I’d inadvertently implied that I was planning this whole massive future for us and that he would think I was this crazy rabbit lady who had received a couple of nice messages and so was suddenly imagining what our kids would look like and naming our pet dog!

On some levels I am very chilled, more so than I have been when talking to other guys I have met. Yes a little bit of me hopes this time it will be different, but if it’s not so what. I currently don’t know him from Adam. So why do I care so much about what he thinks and how do I stop this from stopping me be me?

A Poppy update

So I though I would intersperse all the ‘woe is me’ with an update on everyone’s favourite rabbit…well at least she is mine… well at least she is mine today. I’ll let you know if I feel the same tomorrow!

This week has seen some very interesting developments…

Until last night I thought we had mastered the litter tray, she had been completely clean for almost a week – then last night she pooped in front of my fire.

She has taken to huddling in the only part of the cage I can’t actually reach her (yes she has a new bigger cage) when I try to get her out to let her have a run around, and the other night she headed into her bedding area and started thumping her feet at me – I need to look into what this means!

She has a mad moment every day when she runs as fast as she possibly can around my lounge, behind the two settees and across the lounge floor. It is the sweetest thing.

She is trying to claim the spare room as my own. She head butts her way into it, despite the door being pulled closed, and refuses to leave (an hour I spent trying to get her out the other day) so she is no longer allowed upstairs.

She has taken to chewing on my carpet and my skirting boards. I keep telling her that i she doesn’t behave we will fall out – she either doesn’t believe me or doesn’t care.

Depending on her mood I am the most scary thing in the house ever, or her biggest bestest friend. On occasions she will snuggle into me, and it is a really special moment… then she will nip me to let me know she wants down. I did some research into the whole biting thing (well my mum did. I still need to look into it) and the suggestion was I should squeak when she nips me to show it hurts – I think they are going with the similar train of thought as teaching bite inhibition to a puppy. So the other day she bit me, I squeaked and her reaction… she bit me again!

I would love to make this into a weekly update session – what do you think? Any one fancy coming up with a good title?

Another one bites the dust

So I bet you are all desperate to know how my date went on Friday (what do you mean you don’t sit by the computer waiting for me to update you on my failing love life? #rude!)

The date was ok. The film was good, the company wasn’t bad. We snuggled in the cinema while watching the film, which was really lovely, and he walked me to the car where there was a good night kiss. Did I want to see him again – maybe, did I see us walking down the aisle and having a life together – no.

But then today he has text to say he likes someone else. He said I was brilliant and if things hadn’t started with this girl then he would have definitely wanted to see me again… but they have, so he doesn’t.

To be honest I don’t know how I feel.

Upset that he prefers someone else, honestly no. It’s a relief not to yet again do the ‘I think we should just be friends’ talk. But I have been left feeling a little dejected. When I started online dating it was overjoyed to see that there were actually attractive single men out there, but as it goes on I feel a bit disheartened by it all.

I reached a new low last night when I discussed the possibility of becoming friends with benefits with a friend. I enjoy and miss having sex, but I know one night stands are not for me. So I thought two single people, who care about each other but admit they wouldn’t work as a couple sorting out their ‘itches’ may be the way to go. He seemed really keen, until push came to shove and then he backed out.

He has said the usual, he really fancies me, had it been less spur of the moment then we could have… doesn’t matter really. At the end of the day I still feel like I offered myself up on a plate for a bit of fun, and was yet again turned down.

I’ve officially hand my fill of dating. I have a couple lined up, but want to back out… I still might. Can’t wait for my subscription to run out!

It’s date night

Well date night is here. I can already feel the butterflies.

I just hope he’s who he claims he is, or that at least I feel a spark. He doesn’t have to fancy me, it doesn’t have to go anywhere. But going on date with man after man that I have fancied online but then met in person and just known straight away it would never go anywhere – it’s getting a little soul destroying!

I have finally planned the perfect outfit: Grey low heeled boots, black leggings, denim skirt, long sleeved black form fitting top and a pink and grey scarf.

Wish me look!

He’s too right to be real

I am worried. I have a date on Friday night with a guy who for the moment seems a little too good to be true.

I don’t mean as in Mr Fantastic, uber rich and wealthy, looks like Brad Pitt and rescues small animals and/or children from burning buildings on a weekend… but a little too perfect for me.

For a start he appears to be able to hold a conversation. Now I know to the online dating novices amongst you that may not appear like a key thing; but if you have been on the number of bad dates I have been on, this is a minor miracle. He also seems to be holding down a successful job, has bought his own place and loves animals.

He is cute and (I know I haven’t met him) but if the pictures are anything to go by I fancy him. He seems to have a life and his own things going on, and as annoying as it is he doesn’t always come straight back to texts I send; its really good to know that he doesn’t spend all his time sat in jogging bottoms watching Jeremy Kyle.

The other winner is that it has been 18 months since he was last in a relationship, and took some time off from dating to focus on him. This is not only one of my favourite things about him, but makes him such a rarity that I am most definitely intrigued.

We have our first date on Friday night, and I have already spent a week coming up with and rejecting various first date outfits in my mind. I feel that this time the stakes are actually quite high. If things continue in the manner they are, and he is who he says he is… well let’s just say I have butterflies!

But there comes the rub. I am convinced that he is too good to be true; that I am going to turn up and he will be a 50 year old man, or a married father of 10 or that he isn’t going to like me. That I won’t be enough.

I know deep down, if he is the one, then what happens on Friday, how I wear my hair, what shoes I wear or how well my make-up goes on won’t matter. I also know that if he isn’t the one then nothing I do will make a jot of different… but I am worried that all of this seems too right and I am going to walk head first into a whole load of heartache.

It’s like I am living with a teenager

Poppy’s personality continues to grow by the day. I can’t even begin to tell you how in love with her I am, and how I thank my lucky stars every day that she has come into my life. But I am certain that this little lady is going to give me about a million and one grey hairs, and if I ever turn to the drink… well look no further than her cute little snuffling nose!

We still seem to be playing a little one step forward, one step back.

This last weekend she had her first overnight stay at my parents house (yes, I may now refer to them as Granny and Grandpa) anywho the car journey freaked her out and it didn’t help that a major f-up by me resulted in me having to dump her and run. I worried about her all night and all the next day until I finally made it back to my folks and out to check on her. I couldn’t wait to give her a huge hug, and when I did she cuddled herself under my neck and stayed there for the longest time. I swear it felt like she was saying “I though you had left me, don’t ever do that again!”

She was then super cuddly bunny whenever I went out to see her, and although she let other people cuddle and fuss her too, I was her chosen cuddler and fusser-er (is too a word!) I felt like we had bonded.

The car journey back to mine had her a little less freaked. I got back to mine, cleaned out her cage and then let her run around the lounge for an hour. After all she had been cooped up in a cage all weekend so I wanted her to stretch her legs.

Now Poppy is allowed the run of my lounge, and I also let her race up and down my stairs. Her favourite place to lie is under the radiator behind one of my settees and her favourite game is running around like a loon around the settee, coming out one side until she sees me looking at her, and then turning tail and racing to the other side until I look at her. (Imagine a toddler playing hide and seek, where they stay ‘hidden’ until they know you have seen them)

Sunday night Poppy decided that having an entire lounge and stairs to play in was not enough, and so the little madam spent 10 minutes headbutting her way into my spare room. She is not allowed in the bedrooms; there are too many wires and double beds (which I wouldn’t be able to clean particularly well under) to have her pee un-noticed in one of those rooms. Usually when she goes upstairs she will try to push her way into the bedrooms, but give up after a few minutes, then come downstairs and shoot me the stinky eye for being so cruel.

However Sunday she persevered and that perseverance paid off. I came upstairs to find her doing loops of my spare room in near ecstasy. For half an hour I watched her doing loops of my spare room in new ecstasy. She would come hopping up to me, let me stroke her or nuzzle into me a little… then run for the hills as soon as I made a move to catch her.

I tired giving up and going downstairs assuming she would get tired. She didn’t.

I offered toys.

I offered food.

I tried begging.

I tried pleading.

(I may have tried threats)

Until finally she had had enough. For no reason, other than her wanting to. She hopped up to me and let me pick her up, with only the smallest flicker of panic when I went to get her. (Being picked up is not her favourite thing. She is fine once she is up, but the initial picking up bit scares her) I carried her downstairs and put her to bed, where she flopped onto her side and relaxed. (N.b; Apparently a rabbit on their side is the most relaxed and trusting they can be. Yes, I whooped, silently, when she did this!)

Next morning I come downstairs… nothing. She won’t make eye contact. Won’t come to me. Won’t move out of the corner of the cage that I can’t reach her in. I touch her and she looks like I am causing her pain… Big step back.

I come home from work and she has molted all over her newly clean cage. I. FREAK. OUT. There is a lot of hair everywhere and Poppy is still refusing to come to me, or let me touch her or get her out for a look over.

I have no choice but to go out and hope she will still be alive when I get back. She was, but she still didn’t defrost the entire time I sat outside her cage talking to her. Although she did eat a little something, so I took that as a sign she wasn’t ill!

Then this morning she is a little warmer, but not much. I open her cage up and she makes a bid for freedom, until I go to get her when she decided she is better in the safety of her hutch and jumps back in. Then spends the rest of the morning sat giving me the silent treatment, facing into the back of the cage so all I can see is her (very cute) hairy bum and white tail.

I tell you, it’s a good job I am never going to have kids (no man, not that I don’t want to) as I am not sure I am going to make it through bringing up a rabbit!

What’s the time Mr Wolf?

To most of you it will come as no surprise if I admit I can be a little ditzy. I am a natural blonde, and on occasions I wear the title well  – for example my comment on being able to see Hadrian s wall from space (I had it confused with the Great Wall of China.)

However, one of my bad habits it that I am often late. It used to drive my ex crazy, in fact he cited it as one of the reasons for breaking up with me. I know it annoys family and friends, hell it annoys me. But no matter how hard I try it is the exception, rather than the rule, that I am at an appointment early or even on time.

I have tried to turn over a new leaf, and I am beyond proud to announce that I have only twice being a few minutes late since starting at my new job, and I have embraced a routine that actually sees me arrive early. Something I am stupidly proud about.

I was so impressed with this new leaf that I was beyond excited this weekend when I left my house 50 minutes early to meet a friend. The friend and I were going to treat ourselves to a late evening spa (her birthday treat, which I crashed) and so I left work on time, let Poppy run around the lounge for an hour while I made myself spa ready. I packed my overnight back, packed Poppy in her carry case and left the house (after only minimal faffing, another small victory for me!)

I was chilled…

I was relaxed…

I was a new zen – like goddess…

I was over an hour and a half late!

Somehow I had decided we were meeting at 7.30, but apparently we had actually agreed on 5.30! I felt so bad. Never have I gone from calm zen to my friend is going to hate me forever fear so quickly. Luckily my friend is amazing, and fair. She realised that I hadn’t just been running massively late, and had made a genuine error (having booked our lift to the spa for 7.30 helped back up my story) and so she quickly went from spitting feathers to threatening to hurt me if I didn’t stop apologising (a true friend if ever there was!)

Luckily the night wasn’t ruined. We still got to the spa with plenty of time left to enjoy ourselves, and we ended up having the most brilliant of nights. (I may have somehow blagged a whole lot of free stuff that evening! #result)

However it would appear that that wasn’t going to be only error that weekend. Having gotten in from our brilliant pamper evening at 2am, I was gutted when I had to set an alarm for 7am to get an 8.10 train. (I can’t help but feel setting an alarm to get up should be banned on a Saturday!) I was even more gutted when at 8.15am my train hadn’t arrived and so I checked my tickets to discover that my train wasn’t due until 8.51am.

Really there are now words!