Marty vs Microsoft

I was playing Tribal Wars on my computer earlier this morning when my keyboard suddenly stopped working. Marty, who had been running around loose in my room, had finished the job he started months ago: chewing through my keyboard cable! I had foolishly left it dangling on the floor after moving it last night to control the computer while watching episodes of The Office on my computer while in bed. That keyboard cost me $90!

So, I did a little research and found two contenders for a new keyboard:

1. Logitech Cordless Desktop MX 5000 Laser
2. Logitech diNovo Edge

I was leaning more toward the MX5000 because it was half the price of the diNovo Edge and appeared to have some more buttons and had an interesting LCD screen built into it, but after trying it out in the store, I did not like the feel of the keys. A buddy of mine at work recently picked up a diNovo Edge and brought it in to show me earlier this week, so I’d had a bit of experience with it. I was impressed with its size, look, and feel, and it had a built-in touch pad for controlling the mouse cursor, so I bit the bullet and dropped the $300 the store was asking for it.

It’s going to take me a little while to get used to the diNovo Edge. It feels very much like a laptop keyboard, and is quite different from the Microsoft Natural Ergonomic Keyboard 4000 that Marty destroyed. Still, it’s quite nifty. The lighting effects on it are very stylish, and the keys have just the right give. Despite the cost, I think I’m going to be happy with this new, wireless keyboard.

Dog-Sitting

Yesterday the basset hound I am dog-sitting for my brother and his wife spent most of the day closed off in the third bedroom and laundry room.  She chewed up one of the aglets on my new shoes.  Bad dog!

In retaliation, I went out and bought some rope today.  Guess who’s spending the afternoon outside?

By the way, I have a completely fenced in yard, but Scout, the dog, can (and did) crawl under a few sections of the fence, hence the reason for the rope.

Dog-Sitting

I started dog-sitting for my brother and his wife’s bassett hound yesterday.  I’ve got the little guy for a week or so.  She was fine yesterday as I only got her in the afternoon and we spent the rest of the at my parent’s place out in the country, but today was the first full day with her at home.  She peed on the living room carpet.

Thankfully my brother left some pet stain cleaner for me to use in case of accidents.  Still, I like to call the kind of dog who pees on my carpets a “shootin’ dog” .  Shootin’ dogs do not typically have a long lifespan, as one might be able to deduce from their name.  Let’s see if “Scout”, my brother and his wife’s bassett hound, can survive the week.

Leaky Bunny

Last night I was listening to a Lost podcast in my bedroom when I remembered some laundry I had in the washing machine.  I got up, went to the back room, and put the laundry into the dryer.  When I came back, I saw Marty looking suspiciously innocent as he sat in the middle of my bedroom.  I looked on my bed and there lay a single rabbit turd.

Tossing the turd into the trash, I gave Marty an admonishing comment, then I resumed the podcast and hopped into bed.  But something wasn’t right.  I immediately felt something wet on the bed.  Had I been sweating that much in this heat and humidity?  Had I not completely dried myself from the shower I had taken earlier?  These thoughts ran through my head as I desperately hoped the wetness was not another “gift” from Marty.  One sniff of the liquid shattered all my hopes like a sauerkraut sandwich hitting concrete after a ten story drop.

I turned to Marty, who was still sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor.  “What are you going to do?”, he said.  “We both know I’m too cute for you to smack, and yelling at me just makes me aggressive.”  He had me there.  “I’m gonna pee on your bed and you’re gonna like it.”  I angrily tore off my bedsheets, closed Marty into his cage, and threw the sheets into the washing machine.

Next time, I’m going to buy an ugly bunny.

Little Fighting Machines

I came across the little comic on the right earlier today. I found it quite humourous. I also found it inspirational. You see, I named my rabbit Marty after Madmartigan, sword-swinging hero of the George Lucas fantasy movie Willow. I joked with my coworkers that this rabbit would live up to his name and be raised as a fighting rabbit. Well, today, that joke became a reality (sort of).

Now, from previous experience, I knew Marty would do well on a WWII battlefield as a cable cutter, having gnawed through a forty dollar recharging cable for my cell phone and a thirty dollar headset cable, but I delt he should have more combat experience. The only such experience he has had is raking my arms with this hindclaws whenever I try to pick him up. He has since calmed down a bit when I pick him up now, but I still have some scars on my left forearm from his struggles. I had bigger plans for Marty now.

With a mad gleam in my eye, I grabbed a cutting knife from the kitchen and a roll of the handyman’s secret weapon — duct tape — and got to work. I fastened the blade to Marty’s back, as per the instructions. He was a little hesitant to become a weapon of destruction at first, but I managed to calm him down enough to get the duct tape around his body. With tufts of winter fur still floating in the air, I placed Marty on the floor, ready to train him up to be the killing machine he was destined to be.

It wasn’t long before I realized the magnitude of my folly. Almost immediately, Marty began running around the room. There I was, sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor with a rapidly mobile death-blade careening haphazardly about me. I imagine this is how many of the lesser mad scientists meet their demise before they can do any real damage to the world.

A short time later, the blade slid sideways, and Marty brandished it as a lance. He seemed most comfortable with the blade in this position. I, however, was not. With the blade along the side of his head, Marty could very easily cut his ear, face, or foot. I had to cut his combat training short.

What I did was very wrong. I am a trained professional. Do not try this at home.

Marty Tries To Fly

(click thumbnails for larger images)

The New Madmartigan

Marty’s almost fully recuperated from his surgery.  I was a little worried yesterday morning when I had seen he had eaten so little overnight, but when I got home after work he had eaten a bit more.  He’s still not eating quite as much as he used to, but his appetite is definitely improving.

Castration Day!

My little rabbit Marty is now at the Vet awaiting his neutering surgery sometime today. Let this be a lesson to all animals who try to screw around with the likes of me!

Interspecies Sex

Marty was his usual cheerful self this morning, running around my bedroom, making contented little grunts. After cleaning his cage and replenishing his food and water, I played with him a little, petting his head and whatnot. This morning, however, he was unusually interested in my hand, sniffing it as he sometimes does when I have something that smells nice on it, like cologne or soap.  To reward his curiosity I decided to grab a little dried yogurt drop treat for him and let him eat it out of my hand.

At one point I put my hand on the ground, forming a vertical pillar with my arm and Marty starting to climb up onto it. I thought he maybe wanted to be picked up, so I grabbed him and cradled him. This wasn’t what he wante, however, as he quickly jumped out of my arms (he doesn’t really like being held). I put my arm down again to see what he would do and he starts climbing it again. This time I just left him alone to see what he would do. Lo and behold this little baby bunny started humping my arm!  He started biting it, too, for some reason.

Thankfully I grew up in a rural environment and also majored on Zoology as otherwise what happened next would have disgusted me more. Suffice it to say, rabbits don’t take very long to “finish their business”.

Yes, I was raped by a five-month-old bunny.

What convinces animals to try and mount humans is a little beyond my comprehension. I mean, other animals are not so stupid as to think we are the same species, are they? Perhaps its just hormones overriding the animal’s critical thinking skills.

In any case, afterwards, Marty did his customary “I’m happy to see you” dance around me, as he usually does, only this time he accentuated it with stamps of his foot and louder grunting sounds. Rabbits don’t often vocalize, and very few people know this, but the sounds a rabbit makes are pretty much indistinguishable from that of a human baby.

Anyway, I guess it’s a good thing I had planned to get Marty neutered this week.

Bonding With Madmartigan

My not-so-baby lop-eared rabbit, Marty, had some good bonding time today. I had gone to work very early and came home around seven in the morning. I let Marty out of his cage and went to bed, having placed several layers of blankets atop the area which I was not occupying.

The blankets were for a nasty habit Marty has: peeing on my bed whenever I let him jump up there. It’s his way of claiming new territory for himself. Thankfully Marty believes he owns the entire floorspace of my bedroom as he has never once peed on the carpet (though he does leave his droppings all over the place).

Anyway, Marty had a lot of fun jumping up on my bed and crawling all over me as I was trying to sleep. He didn’t waste much time peeing on one of the blankets I had laid down, either. I let him do his thing and went to sleep anyway, the sounds of a little rabbit running around like a maniac on my bedroom floor acting as some sort of cacophonic lullaby.

He woke me up [several times] a few hours later, occasionally jumping on the bed and scampering about. The first thing he’d do after getting on the bed was crawl up to my face and make those little grunting sounds rabbits make when they’re happy. He had also peed in about three or four places on my bed. Thankfully all the blankets — which are in the washing machine at the moment — prevented my mattress from getting wet.

After getting up to clean his cage and replenish his food and water, Marty hardly left my side. Yes, after six weeks of living in my bedroom, Marty is doing A-OK. Somewhat surprisingly, I’m already starting to miss him when I’m at work.