I love my bunny. I thought i'd proved this to him spending a whacking chunk of my boat savings on vet bills, but apparently he begrudges the loss of his leg more than I thought. Oh yes. He wants revenge. He needs to know I love him, that I'll do anything for my poor little tripod bunny.
He's playing on my guilt. I can see it in his eyes, he knows I feel terrible for not spotting the lump earlier, for having his leg cut off so he falls over and for laughing when he does.
He's making me clean his bum.
He's got me standing in the bathroom, cradling him and picking caecals out of his fur with my fingernails, then washing his backside with water, carefully sponging around his stitches so it doesn't hurt. While he nibbles on my t-shirt, and I'm thinking, please don't chew my boob, please don't.
I love my bunny.