Tuesday, January 8, 2013

My Knit-Tit is NOT a Bunny


This is a bunny.





This is a Knit-Tit





This is Roar





This is what Roar does to bunnies






A friend was curious about my mastectomy and the prosthesis I wear, rather than having reconstruction surgery.  I was wearing a turtleneck, and didn’t feel like trying to reach down my shirt and pull my knit-tit out of the pocket in my bra, so I went to my bedroom and brought back a spare knit-tit to show her.  She played with it briefly and put it down on the coffee table.  

Roar had recently pulled the both the squeaker and the stuffing out of his last intact bunny.  He saw my knit-tit and leaped.  He was sure this was his new bunny.  He sank his fangs in and dashed madly.  The last bunny made it for 5 months.  I didn’t give my knit-tit 5 minutes, and it doesn’t even have a squeaker.

Roar dashed around the room.  Then he brought his new bunny to me, hoping for a game of tug of war.  Instead I cuddled him. He squirmed.  My friend and I laughed.  I held him while my friend gently pried the knit-tit out of his jaws.

Then I threw a worse-for-wear bunny across the room.  He leapt out of my lap and dashed madly.  I ran to my bedroom and hid my knit-tit safely in a drawer.

I thought about writing the bunny company.  Bunnies cost about $6.  Knit-tits cost $12, and they don’t even have squeakers.  Maybe the bunny company could have a side-line. A double-duty product.  Prosthetics that double as dog-playthings.  But dogs really love squeakers, and I don’t want to squeak whenever I hug someone.

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