We gratefully acknowledge the original 'Disapproving Rabbits' website, that inspired this site, and its creators, Sharon, Bill, Cinnamon, and Dougal. Without you, we would not be here. We Approve Of You!

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Sunday, November 19, 2017

Espresso, Latte and Charlie Update



Greetings, Everybunny!

The good news is Latte's leg is healing nicely. In other news, Latte hates the medicine. For some reason, she took the first dose very well, slurped it up right off the syringe. But since then, it's a case of "Wrestlemania" twice a day. Same goes for the cream application to where the wound used to be.

For some inexplicable reason, Latte started chasing Charlie, as if they became unbonded. Espresso and Charlie seem to be getting along OK though. It might have started when a hoomin tried to give Latte her medicine mixed with a bit of nanner and raspberries. The trouble was, everybunny wanted a piece of that, thinking it is just a treat. An absolute mayhem ensued. To make things worse, Latte did want to eat it anyway.

Ever since that moment, Latte "forgot" she was a BFF with Charlie. Now, we are trying to decide whether to let everybun work it out on their own or should we organize a flight in a clothes basket.

We'll keep you posted,

- Espresso

Saturday, November 18, 2017

X-Plus Bun - Red Hop, Pt. 2

The clock hit zero. There's not much we can do now. The Cap Com confirms it, laconically, without any hint of the panic my microbiome is starting to feel. I keep one eye on the control panel and one on Zoomer. Neither of us can mess up this part too much. The worst that can happen is that Zoomer's paw gets twitchy, she pulls the abort handle, and it's over for us. We might end up dead. A small rocket mounted on top of our capsule would fire and pull us away from the booster. Then, hopefully, the main parachute would open, and we would be on the ground shortly. We would be done, and Zoomer would be done with her commission. She could fly kites after that, on her own time and dime, of course. Thus, for the moment, doing nothing is considered a satisfactory performance. We watch the gages showing the main engines come up to half power, then three quarters, and finally hundred percent. Just as important are the supporting gages that could betray the first signs of stress on the engines that exceed the safety limits.
Gloves off
Zoomer keeps her cool, and so do the engines. That's an excellent news. I saw one of those engine assemblies melt during a test. When one of the flights aborted before liftoff due to an overheating power coil, they decided to stress test to failure that entire set up. From time to time, they do that to engines at half of their service lifetime, just to test engineering's estimates against the realities that engines face during their service life in the fleet.
That was a spectacular display of angry, vicious, molten metal, ceramic and composite, evaporating, flying in all directions, and raining calamity on everybunny around. Some Rex in a yellow hard hat next to me got half his ear blown off. The good news was that didn't happen to a crew during the launch.
Red Hop capsule concept
This time, everything is in green, and my gut check agrees. Even my bum, clad in a bulky pressure suit and sitting on a shock absorbent couch, feels that the engines are running just right. With the power plant running so smoothly, you might forget there is a raging, hot catastrophe punishing the ground below, and just then, the acceleration starts and reminds you that this is for keeps. All of a sudden, you are going! You don't feel the speed, but you do feel the pressure on your body. It's becoming harder and harder to move a paw, and something is pushing me into the couch. Something is trying to pull the muscles off my body into a puddle of flesh, and it's getting harder to breathe. That's when I start to appreciate the genius of my couch. I feel pressed into the capsule and become one with it in a perfect fit. Every part of me feels welded to the ship by the g-force, yet the exact fit feels comforting, and my chin feels like it found the right spot to rest in this beast.
I keep watching Zoomer. We cleared the tower a while back, and time and altitude are starting to be on our side. The pressure caused by the hard acceleration eases somewhat, and that's enough to bring on a significant relief. I finally noticed the Cap Com running a commentary and being overly reassuring. I realized he's grating on my nerves. Is he getting chummy with Zoomer or something? Zoomer is smiling though, but I think she is entirely oblivious to the trying-too-hard Cap Com.
Zoomer at console
In a few minutes, the little window in front of us turned completely black. Another moment and the engines cut out, and I felt myself lifting off the couch. My head and body lurched upwards, relatively speaking, and the helmet and the suit held me in place. It was a violent jolt, a jarring goodbye from the booster letting us know that we were on our own, for now. All the pressure on my body disappeared, and I felt suspended in the cocoon of the suit.
We got very busy after that with a lot of housekeeping chores. We checked the capsule for leaks and got a confirmation from the ground. We had to verify the radiation protection system as well. Only after all that were we able to take off our bubble helmets and get out of the suits. Although Zoomer seemed distraught, she was adjusting to the new environment pretty well. I watched her just to be sure. She tried to scratch her ears a couple of times, and it looked like she was convulsing. After a couple of tries, she figured out that she would have to put one foot in a restraint and use the other one to scratch. Then,she would have to switch to get the other ear. I have to admit it; those are the simple pleasures in life that never get old, the rookies trying to figure out how to do things that, until orbit, have never required any thought.
Zoomer through the window Mr. Toes
Once the chores were under control, we rotated the couches on their rear hinges to a position where they were pointing toward the nose of the capsule. After they locked in place, we could use them as seats with restraints or even as beds. Half of their top covers were made of elastic fabric and acted like big pockets. A bun could crawl into one and sleep, and the pocket would "hug" one to the cushion.
Next, we got rid of the booster and sent it flying away from us. Zoomer would have to rendezvous and dock with it a day or two. We would worry about that part later. To finish the day, Zoomer corrected the capsule's attitude. She fine-tuned it by paw and set the computer to keep it aligned. The first adjustment had to be manual, and when she finished, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wanted to binky, but it's almost impossible to do that here, so I bounced from side to side. Zoomer got to a window and became still for a long time.

Friday, November 17, 2017


You promised, NO Friday pictures!

- Thank you, - Thank you Collected Moments - Bunnies and Mellissa!

PS: You can follow Camilla, Oscar and Melvin and the rest of the crew on their FB at Collected moments - Bunnies

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Beyonce and Betty White - looking for forever homes


Hoomin, do you want to be a part of our buntourage? Do you know how to make big salaaaad?

- Thank you Collected Moments - Bunnies and Mellissa!

PS: Mellissa says, "Beyonce needs a foster or adoptive home! Beyonce was adopted but unfortunately due to allergies in her new home, she is coming back to the rescue. She is a very sweet and friendly rabbit, spayed and litter trained. Betty White needs a new foster home! Betty is a young female bunny, spayed and litter trained."

If you think you'd like to foster or adopt, please fill out the foster or adoption application at Hoppy Home Rescue (Newfoundland):
Adoption: http://www.hoppyhomesrescue.com/adoption-contracts/

Foster: http://www.hoppyhomesrescue.com/foster-care-application/  

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Beatrix and Bill

"Bill, don't be so mean to him!"
"But you see, Beatrix,  next time the salad will be twice as big!"

- Thank you, Fleetie!

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Latte Update

Good News, Everybunny!

Latte is back from the V.E.T., and she's in good shape. Has four legs, all working as expected, and she's on good terms with Espresso and Charlie. We have cream to put on her foot once a day, and she has to take an antibiotic twice a day. Everybun at the vet loved her, and she was roaming about and made friends in the office in no time!

We'll keep you posted,

- Espresso

Monday, November 13, 2017


Your couch? What couch is that? I don't see another couch here!

- Thank you, Christina!

PS: Tomorrow's post, The Late Night With Latter, will be up, well, late ;-) We'll know what the V.E.T has to say.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Espresso, Latte and Charlie Update

Greetings, Everybunny!

Don't let the bottom pix fool you; I'm a top shelf disapprover all the way! So, there I was, trying out a new bun cave. Espresso tried it and like it. Or not, because all his favorite noming artifacts disappeared.

This morning we discovered that Belinda, the spokesbun for SmallPetSelect, mentioned us in her latest blog post!

Latte has a V.E.T. appointment, first thing this upcoming Tuesday morning. We found a scab on her left, hind leg. Her ankle joint looks a little enlarged and there's something that looks like a small, open wound. None of that seems to be slowing her down, and we came across purely by chance. So, on Tuesday, we'll make the post in the evening, after we have a better idea of what is going on.

Hopefully, this is nothing. Then again, with all the bunns that had left for the Rainbow Bridge, this is playing tricks on one hoomin's noggin and turns his legs into rubber.

Until Tuesday,

- Espresso

Saturday, November 11, 2017

X-Plus Bun - Red Hop, Pt. 1

When I got to the "white room," Zoomer was already waiting for me. The white room was a small, final preparation area at the end of a long gantry leading to our ship perched on top of the Red Hop rocket. The suite tech and a couple of his assistants, students I think, already had Zoomer ready to go. She was sitting on her hind paws, looking way too calm and composed. Her suit looked like it doubled her tiny, Lionhead body, and you could almost mistake her for a Dutchie. I think this was the first time I saw my very young cousin all ready to go on a flight. We had spent the last two days going over and over the plans for her final check flight, and we had worked through a lot of the emergency scenarios in the sim. She had been training in that sim for a long time before her check flight became a date on the calendar. For us, it was mostly a chance to see how well we would work together. Now, we were about to face the real thing.
Red Hop capsule and booster system Zoomer
I am not sure how she rigged the lottery or manipulated the system to draw my name as her Flight Examiner. I almost declined the assignment because of that, but then again, it could have been pure luck. The last thing I wanted to deal with was the possibility that she may bust the ride and I would have to flank a blood relative of mine. Of course, she knew her stuff, and our simulator sessions were great, yet I was apprehensive. After all, you can simulate all you want, but if you give the low-orbit environment half a chance, it will put you in your place feet first in a blink of an eye.
The tech felt around, and tugged and pulled and thumped from time to time. His two "assistants," more like hopping distractions, sniffed and watched and tapped on the gauges with concern. One of them frowned and proudly announced that my diaper light had turned amber. So, I had to make a small deposit already – big deal. Anyway, he felt smart and observant – good for him. I finally asked the tech if they could help Zoomer get situated in the capsule.
Zoomer and Toes
He motioned to his assistants, and Zoomer settled in on her couch. As the couch molded itself to fit Zoomer's contour perfectly, the students secured her restraints, plugged in her life-support system, and started checking for leaks one more time. Their supervisor inspected their work and nodded with approval.
Zoomer on her couch
I got the go-ahead to settle into my couch as they rolled Zoomer into the capsule. As I took my place, I felt the cushion press against and adjust around my torso and hind paws. Even through the suit, the shape-shifting couch felt a little strange. I checked my front paws, making sure I had the required freedom of movement to reach everything on the console in front and a little below me. For now, the most important piece of equipment was the launch abort handle. I say "for now" because up until a certain altitude, this would be our last chance to get the capsule away from the rocket if things got bad enough. Until now, no bun yet had to use it, thank stars, but if we had to, I sure didn't want to be the first one to screw it up. I wiggled my duff to check the fit and comfort of the couch. I already felt like I was floating on air.
Mr. Toes
They finally rolled me into the capsule, and I heard and felt the heavy clangs when the couch locked in place. On my right, Zoomer was already scrolling through the final systems checks and paid no attention to me. Her head was in the game as it should have been. She was the Commander after all. So far, everything looked pretty good. The tech finished mucking about with us and slowly tried to crawl out of the ship. That's the only thing I didn't like about the Stratoberry capsule. Somehow, engineering never figured out a graceful means for the technicians to do their jobs. I watched the indicator lights as I felt the guy still trying to claw his way out of the ship. A little later, the sound of the main hatch closing let us know that the capsule was about to get sealed off, for better or for worse. For a moment, the cabin became strangely peaceful and serene. The only noticeable sound came from the ventilation system in my suit as the freshly recycled air gently meandered around my mouf and whiskers. I caught Zoomer looking at me with a big grin on her mouf as our countdown clock kept on running down closer to zero.

Friday, November 10, 2017


So, who is Melvin, mom? And where's my white carrotini?

- Thank you, Mellissa and Collected moments - Bunnies

PS: You can follow Oscar, Melvin and the rest of the crew on their FB at Collected moments - Bunnies

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Dougie and Penny

Oh look! The hoomin's up and getting lost again on the way to the salad pantry.

- Thank you, Audrey!

PS: Audrey says, "They are definitely unhappy with setting the clocks back an hour because breakfast and dinner are late."

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

How Time Flies, Mr. Toes

It's been just over a year since you had to leave for the Rainbow Bridge, Mr. Toes.
It feels like it was yesterday.

In this spot, imagine a long, silent moment of contemplation and gratitude for all your inspiration and influence.

We'll always remember you, Mr. Toes.

- Ijon


Ohhhh! It's always the hoomins, isn't it?

- Thank you Benny and Friends!

PS: You can follow Benny on his FB page.

Tuesday, November 7, 2017


So, I need to grumble about the salaaaad, right? ... it's too small or not cripeh enough, and the hoomin isn't snapeh. Right?

- Thank you Mellissa and Collected Moments - Bunnies

PS: Melvin is in foster care with Mellissa. He's 8 weeks young and came from the Hoppy Homes Rescue (FB: facebook.com/pg/HoppyHomesRescue).

Mellissa says, "He is from the group of babies from Pandora momma. (...) They have a lot now that need care and Homes."

Monday, November 6, 2017


This is gonna cost you, hoomin. I'll hop like a butterfly and nip like a bee!

- Thank you, Victoria!

PS: Victoria reports that Fiona was not very pleased with her Halloween costume ;-)

Sunday, November 5, 2017

Espresso, Latte and Charlie Update

Greetings, Everybunny!

It seems we always have something stuck in our moufs. We like it that way. The hoomins well trained by now - we get our salaaad first. Occasionally, we get a little snack salad after that. We just look at him in that special way and pop; there's the salaaad again. We don't even have to push any of his buttons. We just look at them, and they press themselves.

Well, such is our lot these days. Knock on wood, every bunny is healthy, and poops are great.

We'll keep it up, and we'll keep you posted,

- Espresso

Saturday, November 4, 2017

X-Plus Bun - Bun Fiction Update

Hellos, Everybunny!
I'm Ava, and I have a quick update. We are working on a three, maybe four, part story. If all goes well, we will post part one next week. There will be your favorite character, rockets, space, and adventures in creative farming. Of course, there will be trouble. There always is.
We are debating what to do next. Perhaps we will turn our attention to completing the few early episodes of The Disapprovers saga. We had been away from that story long enough to take a fresh look at it. We still intend to shape it up into a book format.
As always, thank you for stopping by today, and we'll keep you posted.
- Ava

Friday, November 3, 2017


Too much dirt, not enough grass, hoomin!

- Thank you Ken and Kaci!

Thursday, November 2, 2017


I don't know, hoomin. You'll have to get your own couch!

- Thank you, Erica and Utah Rabbit Rescue!

PS: Erica says, "This is Harley two days after going to his new home.  He was dumped in a park, trapped and then turned to us.  We have no idea how long he had to fend for himself, but he was covered in mats and was very underweight.  As you can see, he was obviously meant to be a pampered house bunny!"

Wednesday, November 1, 2017


It's a great day to stay in! For me, hoomin, for me.

- Thank you, Melissa!

PS: Follow Cinamon and Jake on their FB page at Jake & Cinamon!

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

X-Plus Bun - Spooky Bun Fiction Update

We met Molly at the Bun Lips Diner. She spent most of the afternoon there and sat in a booth when we arrived. A big pot of hot, spicy beverage awaited us in the middle of the table. Molly was typing something on her laptop and paid no attention to us. It took me a second to read the reflection of her screen in the window behind her. It said, "One with the void — post-launch briefing."
Soon, the hostess came by with a large salad cart, and we took turns to build our dinner heaps. I picked mostly herbs with an overdose of alfalfa croĆ»tons.
We decided to order some carrotinis. Molly put away her computer, asked what was taking us so long, and fiddled with something under the table. After a moment, she made her hands visible; she was holding a bunch of twigs and covering their bottoms. We drew lots to decide who would be the driver on the way back to our motel. Pancake drew first and came up long. So did Abby and Joye. Ava drew long and giggled. Penny went next. We noticed her disapproving frown before we saw how short her short straw was, and we all pulled long moufs in sympathy. Pancake shook her head and grabbed the short straw from Penny. "I just don't feel it tonight. Penny, you go ahead and enjoy yourself. No bun will believe your ID, anyway, so good luck with that!" We broke into a slow burn of polite applause and Pancake bowed with a grin!
Penny & Ava
We were still noming our salads and waiting for the carrotinis when Pancake brought up the launch of our last story. Ava started out, "I would move the part about the ship trying to contact others to the beginning of the story. Maybe even lead with it, you know. Something about a string of weird pings, penetration attacks, or crack attempts that weren't. Explain how we thought it could have been some kids messing about or something like that. We can return to it later on and connect the dots." Penny nodded in approval and went cross-eyed as she tried to make her little tongue reach a piece of a raspberry stuck to her nose. Joey wiped his mouf, looked at Pancake and Abby, and asked, "Where are all the stories going? What kind of a world are they describing?"
Penny finished a plum raspberry and licked her lips all around, almost reaching the top of her nose with her tongue, and said, "We really don't know much about that space-faring society, do we? The news buns seem to be a part the justice system, and nobun messes with them. As soon as they break a story, it's all over for the 'bad' guys, and the 'good' ones are safe. Automation seems to be 'verboten!' There is nothing the protagonists do that couldn't be automated, and an attempt to deploy a fully autonomous system would constitute a crime against bunnity. How is that society structured? How did they get there? Everybun is a bunstronaut and ratties engineer, and every bun arts. I know, art as a verb—that's right."
"Yeah," started Ava, "The big news in the story was the cover-up of the autonomous system. The crew of the Buzzard was there simply to help the news buns tell the story."
"Why is this civilization putting so much effort into its space program? Is it their religion? Do they have a religion? What else do they do on the ground?" Joey wondered and continued, "What is life like for everybun else? Do they have some specific long-term goals in mind? Did they populate other planets in their solar system? Are they planning to leave their system? How did they manage to survive beyond the life cycle of other civilizations and empires that had collapsed or burned out like viral infections? How did they even came to be? What sort of a twisted case of evolutionary biology led to them?"
Molly Joey
I stopped eating and became lost in the storm Joey kicked up in my head. None of us noticed our waiter standing next to us with our carrotinis.
I picked up my glass, sniffed the beverage and started feeling buzzed just from thinking about it. In short order, our bellehs warmed up, and our tongues loosened up. We started arguing about the probabilities of a world with bunstronauts existing somewhere, even if it had to be some parallel universe or such. Penny, barely able to sit straight by now, argued that we should try to run a simulation to see if a social structure like that could arise. Could it survive long enough to have a chance? If you want to put artificial intelligence to good use, see if you can figure out if it's even possible for the members of society to act in their best interest. We went on like that until the diner closed, and we got kicked out. How Pancake puts up with us like that, I'll never know. I think she loves us.
We had parked a long walk away from the diner because the place was packed when we got there. It took us forever to find a spot that would fit our classic convertible, a '58 Bunsmobile. We hopped along on a sidewalk between the road and a drainage ditch, still full of water, probably from the storms. It was late October, but you would never know it. The air, still hot and muggy at night, felt like a thick soup. Of course, the crocodiles couldn't be more pleased. Their barking croaks started to fill the air, and we tried to pick up our pace. To be exact, only Pancake rushed along. I could barely hop as I swayed from side to side. My mind started to play tricks on me. Giant live oaks and palms and old, fallen, and rotting tree trunks across the ditch looked ominous and ready to come to life. The crocodile barks were rattling my teeth and tickling my spine. I thought for sure that now, their yellow eyes would start chasing me. Something stirred in the palmetto bushes just as we got to the car. They couldn't do anything to us in the car, could they? We had left the convertible with the top down, and now, we piled in, sliding over the upholstery, wet from the evening dew. Pancake tried to start the car, and Abby hit the button to raise and close the top. The rest of us in the back seat tried to untangle ourselves from the bun pile we had become.
Mr. Toes
The cracking outside kept getting louder and closer. My neck started to cramp with fear. The car wouldn't start, and the top would not close. We could hear the engine turning over, but it just wouldn't start. Pancake tried again. Finally, it came to life with a wild roar. She threw it in reverse and started peeling out of the parking spot. She hit the brakes and threw the car into drive. I hit the rear seat, almost flying out of it as I tried to stand up and look at what was chasing us, but I couldn't keep my balance. I found myself on the floor again between the rear and front seats. Pancake stepped on the gas, and the rear wheels made a horrendous grinding sound as they kicked up tons of gravel and dust, desperately trying to gain traction. I could feel the car fishtailing as I tried once more to get up on my feet. Pancake flew out of the parking lot onto the empty, dark road. The smell of burning rubber made me sick as the centrifugal force of the turn threw me into Joey.
Somehow, I managed to steady myself and got a clear view of what we had left behind. A pair of giant, yellow eyes were staring at us. I was mortified. Then, the eyes turned red! They were getting smaller now, and I realized I was looking into a pair of traffic lights in the opposite lane.