Well that didn’t last long, twenty-four hours tops.
When we arrived home yesterday evening, Barley and Charlotte were at the French doors looking in.
I cracked open the door and Barley wedged his fat little fur-ball self through.
Why such weak resolve Flower you ask?
I would rather WORK than WORRY.
I was awake several times during the night wondering how much the temperature had dropped.
Then I heard noises outside and wondered if it was some predator breaking into the pen.
About dawn, when I was awakened by Mr. Bluebird pecking at the window,
I had the thought that if Barley’s bottom was all ready wet he would get chilled and then $ickne$$ would follow…
So they are inside where it is warm and dry.
Anybody want to assist in a Bunny Brazilian over the holidays?
A FOOL and her bunnies are not parted.