So much for sowing wild oats

What I thought bunny sex looked like
What Frodo thought it looked like

When I organized an assignation for my horny hare with two hot bunnies up the road I thought we’d be in (and out) like Flynn. Five minutes tops and job done.

I mean I’d always taken the “at it like rabbits” phrase to mean bunnies were up for it – and doing it – at the drop of a magician’s hat.

But no, it wasn’t like that at all.

For a start, one of the girl bunnies tried to bite Frodo’s head off. Literally. Cue much distraught squeaking from me, a lightning rescue mission and lots of shivering in the corner (Frodo AND me).

Mr Bunnykins went off the whole idea after that. He decided it was safer to lie down behind a hillock in the rabbit enclosure and hope the whole thing would go away.

Every now and then “Fluffy” (major misnomer there) would jump on his head and try to get him to chase her. Initially Frodo obliged. But she was bigger and faster than him and kept disappearing down burrows (her owners have allowed her to dig up half their front yard, so they’ve had to lay boards at regular intervals to prevent people getting broken legs from falling into the shallower ones. Oh yes, they have.)

Frodo’s efforts became increasingly half-hearted until he gave up entirely.

We stood on the sidelines offering encouragement but after 90 minutes everyone, furry or otherwise, was over it.

The kids were bickering boredly, I’d sipped so much peppermint tea my wee turned green and Frodo kept looking up at me imploringly to rescue him from this living hell.

So his seed has gone unsown, other than the magnificent spray on Husband’s jeans.

And the next time someone refers to a couple going at it like rabbits, I’ll be like: “Really? So she tried to bite his head off, he gave half-hearted chase, but then decided he’d prefer a nap?”

Sounds more like marriage to me (joke) (sort of).

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