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Belinda the Spokesrabbit

Belinda the Spokesrabbit

All Belinda's Blogs and Posts

Here you can see everything Belinda has been up to since we hired her. She's a busy girl.

She loves hearing from everyone, but isn't always able to respond directly.

She keeps asking for an assistant, but so far, her agent hasn't been able to pull that off.

Belinda's mailing address is: Belinda the Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select, PO Box 92664, Pittsburgh, PA 15218

We name a new herbal blend after Belinda.

Hello. It’s Belinda.

This is a “quick and dirty” blog because I’m doing it at the last minute.

Had one finished but I had to throw it out because I just got out a meeting and I have big news.

This is a “quick and dirty” blog because I’m doing it at the last minute. 

Had one finished but I had to throw it out because I just got out a meeting and I have big news.


They’re naming the new herb and flower mix after me.


“Belinda Blend.”


Can you believe it?

I can’t. I can’t even sit still. 

I actually did a binky and my roommate yelled “Your elbow!” which normally would bother me but not today.

And the bag has the prettiest label ever.

I love it.

Not because I’m on it but “the whole package.” The colors and flowers. I even like the font.

But what really matters is what’s on the inside. 

And this mix has all of my favorites:


·Clover Blossom

·Rose Petals and Buds

·Dandelion Leaves



·Elder Flower

I tried it for the first time at my Hay Moon party and I was hooked. Josh sent me a sample for the party but it was still “top secret.” Shipped it in a plain brown bag.

My agent said it would hit the website on Labor Day weekend and I said I can’t wait that long. I put the sample bag in my stash and tried to forget it was there.

That’s why I worked on a marketing plan and the 25 names. To speed things up. 

And when they didn’t go for “Floral Flakes” or “Garden Crumbles” or “Mélange de Fleurs Biologiques,” I thought fine. There is no way to please any of them. 

I talked about it all week on Facebook and my friends agreed with me. That it made no sense. Who knows what rabbits like more than a spokesrabbit?

My friend Rita from Michigan even said they should call it “Belinda Blend” which is spooky if you know what I mean. 

Anyway, with all my fussing they decided to launch it early.

“Belinda Blend.”

I hope you like it as much as I do.




Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.


Hello. It’s Belinda.

I do not know what to say about this week. I am at my wit’s end, if you want to know the truth. Eating so much hay my face hurts. Which I suppose is taboo for a spokesrabbit to say but regardless.

In fact, figuring out what I’m supposed to do and not do in this job is the point. It’s the reason I’m in a mood.

From the first day on the job, I’ve been “playing it by ear.” No job description so I just do whatever feels natural. Testing all the products. Posing for photos. Answering questions on Facebook. You name it.

My one-year anniversary is Labor Day weekend so I must be doing something right. I made it this far plus I even got promoted.

So this week I thought I would stretch myself a bit. Show some initiative with a project without being asked.

And the whole thing backfired.

It all started when I asked my agent if I could work at her house for a few days. To get away from my roommate and my boyfriend’s companion and the talking.

My agent set me up in her office. She gave me three kinds of timothy hay, a digging box and a stack of reports to review.

“There you go, Belinda. If you need anything, just thump.”

She closed the door behind her and I got to work.

A few hours later, she knocked and came in carrying a little plate.

“Here’s some of that top-secret herb and flower mix. I noticed how much you liked it at your Hay Moon party.”

She placed it on the floor and walked out.

I dug into it immediately. Not sure when this new blend is “going live” but I predict it will be a huge hit.

All the blends are good—Zen Tranquility, Vita-licious, Flower Power Berry Boost. But this one has chamomile, clover blossom, rose petals and buds, hibiscus, lavender, elder flowers and I don’t know what else.

When I finished eating and I turned back to my papers, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way all those flowers tasted. Hard to focus on spreadsheets when you have a craving for elder flowers.

That’s when it hit me. I’m a spokesrabbit. My job is to spread the word about Small Pet Select to rabbits and vice versa.

So I spent the next three hours working on the marketing plan for the new herbal flower mix.

To be honest, I spent the entire time coming up with a name. I found a thesaurus on the bookshelf, which helped when I ran out of new words for “blend” and “mixture.”

I submitted about 25 names to my agent.

They were all good, but my favorites were:

  • Floral Flakes
  • Shredded Petals Mix
  • Flower not Flour Blend
  • Posy Fusion
  • Hush Hush Roommate Mix
  • Mélange de Fleurs Biologiques

You might be wondering about the last one. It means “organic flower mix.” Which is fine but the French words are fancier.

A fancy name needs a sophisticated label. Like something from a museum.

As you can imagine, I was very excited to show all of the above to my agent.

She read the list of names. Then she looked at the design for the label. She didn’t say a word for a few minutes. Instead she stood at the bookcase, moving things around.

Finally she said she “appreciated all of my time and effort” and that my ideas were “creative.” She regretted that the company would not be able to use them as a name was already chosen for the new blend.

So there you go. I should have learned my lesson back in January, when I developed all the new products for 2018. Same thing happened then. “We like your ideas but actually we don’t like them.”

I won’t be eating that mix anymore, by the way.

This whole thing has left a bad taste in my mouth.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

I’m sorry if this blog post runs every which way but I can’t think straight. And considering what’s coming up in a few weeks this is not the time to be “off my game.”

It’s my roommate. She interrupts me every five minutes even though I’m trying to work.

The thing is she’s been sick all week. Coughing and sneezing and staggering through the house in her pajamas. Still wearing them at three o’clock in the afternoon.

“What are you working on, Belinda?” Looking over my shoulder at my confidential papers. So I have to shuffle them around in a panic like I lost something.


And then instead of resting in bed she stands in front of the refrigerator with the door wide open. Which is a problem for two reasons. One, the romaine and parsley, etc., is supposed to stay cold. I’m sorry but I like my greens crisp.

Two, when I hear the refrigerator door I expect to hear bags. And then no matter what I’m working on I’m up the steps. It’s a distraction.

So the entire time she’s hanging onto the door handles, looking in the fridge like she’s watching a TV show, I’m on the bottom floor listening instead of working.

Then there’s the other wrinkle. My boyfriend’s companion has moved back to the bottom floor. “Part-time.”

It all started when I invited her to my Hay Moon party and she said no thank you. Because she wanted to spend the evening with The English. Even though after four weeks of “dates” he keeps stealing her food and chasing her through the kitchen. None of my business but I can hear it.

My roommate said it was time to try a new tactic. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

So she set up a big pen in the bottom floor with new throw rugs, a large manger stuffed with three types of hay, a ceramic water bowl and a bed. There’s even a plate just for herbal blends.

She carried my boyfriend’s companion downstairs on Monday around 9 p.m.

“Here’s your new bedroom. You can have slumber parties down here with Belinda. Then back upstairs during the day.”

That’s how it was supposed to work.

But suddenly my boyfriend’s companion has insomnia. She says she hears noises in the back yard all night. And crickets in the walls.

All I know is when I wake up for a midnight chew or to use the litterbox, I glance over at her pen. Just out of habit. And every single time she’s sitting there, wide awake. Staring at me.

“Do you still have those snackers from the party?”

I pretend I don’t hear. Don’t want to get into it at 2 a.m.

After I’m settled and almost back to sleep she’ll start up again.

“I could go for a snacker. Help me sleep.”

All I can say is I’m glad the lights are off.

“Pear blueberry. One pear blueberry healthy snacker.”

Eventually I nod off despite the chatter. But it’s a nervous sleep and I’m not well-rested for work.

And with my roommate playing with the refrigerator door and asking me the same questions all day long, it’s a wonder I can get this blog “put to bed.”

Here’s the bottom line. On Labor Day weekend, I will mark one year as a spokesrabbit.

It snuck up on me.

And I don’t want to throw that in anyone’s face here at home. But all my housemates seem to think about is “kitchen dates” and pajamas and snackers.

I don’t know what it means to hit the one-year anniversary at work. What they expect from me. How could I know?

But I need to be ready. And I can’t work under these conditions.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

A few weeks ago, I found out the July full moon was called the “Hay Moon.” Because farmers start bringing in the crop right about now.

Seemed like a good reason to throw a party.  Especially when I saw the Hay Moon date was July 27, a Friday. Bingo.

Ever since my surprise birthday bash I’ve wanted to have another “shin-dig.” But wasn’t sure I could pull it off, if you want to know the truth. Worried about serving the wrong food. Or that nobody would come.

My roommate said don’t be silly.

So first I invited Josh from the warehouse. He wasn’t able to make it on such short notice but he promised to send “a little something” and did he ever.


Two days later it’s at the door. A big box full of special party snacks, including gourmet hay in the silver bag and two top-secret items.

I can’t say anything about them except one rhymes with bapple cabana bookies. The other is a new herbal mix with a twist. There will be a lot of “buzz” around it once it hits the website. I’m probably in trouble for writing this much.

Food was done so I moved on to decorations. First I spread hay on the floor at the bottom of the steps. To set the theme at the entrance. Then I dragged a broom from the corner to a spot beneath the window. “To draw the eye.”

Only thing left to do was invite my boyfriend’s companion. This is where things got weird.

She said she “already had plans.”

Now I have been paying attention but not in a rude way and my boyfriend’s companion does not go out much. The biggest excitement in her week is sneaking into the room beside the kitchen, which is “off limits” to rabbits.

So I figured she misunderstood.

“I’ll be serving some special hay. I hope you can join me at 9 p.m. Friday on the bottom floor.”

She said no thank you but maybe some other time.

The thing about the Hay Moon is this: Miss it and you have to wait a year for another chance.

The next afternoon I tried again. I walked up to the kitchen and stood at the fence. My boyfriend’s companion was sleeping in the shadows beside the refrigerator.


No response.

“I have snackers. For the party.”


“Pear blueberry. Half a bag.”

She opened her eyes.

She looked at me for a long time. And then, without a word, she went back to sleep.

That’s when it hit me. She had a date with the English. That’s why she didn’t want to come to my party.

And I was right. On Friday at 9:05 p.m. I was sitting by myself on the bottom level, trying to work up a festive mood. The night light was on instead of the overhead light. So there was no glare on the window.

I could hear my boyfriend’s companion and the English running across the ceiling. And my roommate saying, “Stop that. Be nice. There’s plenty for everyone.”

Plenty of what?

Then I heard her on the steps. Walking carefully because she was carrying a big box.

“Belinda, I love your decorations! How fun.”

She sat down beside me and unpacked the box.

First she pulled out two platters—one for me and one for her.

Then she reached in and lifted out an enormous bowl. It was overflowing with salad—romaine, escarole, dandelion, chard, parsley, cilantro.

She put half on my plate and half on hers. Then she helped me to open the bags of gourmet hay and the top-secret treats.

With that, the party was on. And that’s how it went. My roommate and I relaxing, sitting on the floor, eating our special party food and enjoying the view through the window.

“Happy Hay Moon, Belinda,” she said.

And it was.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

Wednesday was Abigail’s two-month anniversary on the job.

I hope you have been getting the latest chapters of her novel every Wednesday. If not, be sure to sign up for her emails. She is a super storyteller.

And also a “five-star” employee. She makes it easy to be a manager.

Which is good news because if you remember how this all went down, I never planned to supervise anyone. While my coworkers were sneaking around arranging my surprise birthday party, I thought I was getting fired. So I hired Abigail to replace me.

Everyone got a big surprise, if you know what I mean.


It’s two months later and not much has changed at work. Every few weeks, Abigail sends me drafts to review. I settle next to the hay manger and start reading. Next thing you know I’ve “plowed through” three chapters and I’m itching to know what happens next.

You might wonder if I add comments or edit Abigail’s work. Not my job. Plus they are perfect as is.

My roommate says I shouldn’t micro-manage. She also tells me not to start “turf wars” and she’s right. It’s hard enough to work as a team, especially when our offices are all over the country.

Mr. Gordon and his family are in Washington state. “Home of the best hay in the world.” That’s a slogan I came up with and I don’t see it on the boxes yet. Anyway, Washington is headquarters and the main warehouse.

Josh works with the Kentucky warehouse team. My agent and I are in Pittsburgh. The customer service folks and others are in Colorado, Florida and California.  

Abigail’s also in California, which is six hours by plane and three hours by clock. Which makes scheduling our “Zoom” video meetings hit or miss.

Sometimes I log in and I expect to see her looking back at me through her webcam.

Instead all I see is this:

Not sure if I have the time zone wrong. Or if something is hinky in the video meeting software.

Sometimes I sit there for 45 minutes before I log off.

When we do connect I always start by asking Abigail about her family. Dale Carnegie said it and it’s still true. Show them you care. She always has a few stories that are “off the record.”

Then I tell a few about my boyfriend’s companion and the others. She always remembers to ask about my elbow and that eats up another 10 minutes if not more.

By the time we’re ready to talk business one of us is usually nodding off. So to be polite the other will say “Well I have a hard stop at 3:30” and that’s the end of the meeting.

I can’t blame Abigail for getting off track. I think it’s me.

I wake up in the morning with a big to-do list and next thing you know it’s five o’clock and I have nothing done.

Turns out that managing myself is the hardest job of all.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

It’s kind of a risk for me to write about this but here goes.

Rabbits keep asking me about my daily schedule. I guess they’re just curious about what a spokesrabbit does at work.

I have nothing to hide. But I don’t want to mess up a good thing with my agent or Mr. Gordon.

The thing is, when I took this job, I assumed I would spend most of the day eating. Instead I spend hours on the computer or in meetings.

That’s fine with me. I like my job a lot, especially since I get to work from home. Every day is different, which keeps it interesting.


But it makes it hard to say “what I do all day.” Because it depends on my deadlines and projects. Some days are non-stop.

So, I decided to keep a log so I would remember where the time went. Also, so my managers could see why I miss meetings. It isn’t just the time zone confusion—it’s having too much on my plate.

Here’s my log from Tuesday:

6 a.m.

Wake up. Get myself together. Look for leftovers to tide me over until my roommate wakes up. Poke through yesterday’s hay.

7 a.m.

Breakfast with roommate, boyfriend’s companion and the English in the kitchen (behind fence).

7:30 a.m.

First hay. Second- and third-cut timothy.

8 a.m.

Check Small Pet Select Facebook page. Write back to friends who left nice messages.

9 a.m.

Take a look at some other Facebook pages (for research). See what Dusty Bunneh is up to. Visit Lennon the Bunny, Alice's Adventures In Bunderland, Wally and Molly and Ludwik Guinea Pig.

10:30 a.m.


11 a.m.

Conference call with agent and team. Topic: Product development. Some big things are coming. That’s all I’m allowed to say.


Second hay. Plate of Flower Power Berry Boost.

1 p.m.

Under steps. Read reports from the technology team about the email situation. Worry that my friends aren’t getting my Sunday blogs.

1:30 p.m.

Try out samples from new healthy snacker “test batch.”  Order more samples. Facebook.

2 to 4:30 p.m.

Half-nap in kitchen.

4:30 p.m.

Back under steps for a chew and to review drafts from Abigail. One cliff-hanger after the next and I’ll leave it at that. “No spoilers.”

5 p.m.

More Facebook meetings and research.

5:30 p.m.

New hay. Orchard medley with a pinch of alfalfa from my stash.

6 to 8 p.m.

Relax with roommate. Watch my shows (Vegas, Antiques Road Show, The Office).

8 p.m.

Dinner in the kitchen. Romaine, parsley, red leaf lettuce. Side of pellets. Pear blueberry healthy snacker for dessert.

9:30 p.m.

Hay refresh. Roommate tucks me in.

Now I know you might be wondering, “Where is the work-life balance?”

Most days are not as hectic as Tuesday. But I work hard every day.

I might not have time logs to prove that. I do have stacks of reports and other business papers in my office under the steps.

I also have alfalfa hay stashed in my office but I’m not saying where. Even though I like working for such a great company, some parts of my day are nobody’s “business” but mine.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

I hope you had a good Independence Day holiday. I had the day off, which was a nice break in the middle of the week. Mostly I loafed.

I also spent a lot of time thinking about independence. What it means to need others and vice versa.

It’s especially interesting right now because there’s a little “rom-com” playing out here at home. Romantic comedy. Between my boyfriend’s companion and the English.

Can you believe it?


My roommate is always trying to fix the English up with other rabbits. But you can’t force two rabbits to get along. He was downright rude to me when I first moved in, if you want to know the truth.

Fine with me. I don’t mind being single and I wasn’t looking for a partner.

And I didn’t “chase after” my boyfriend—he kept jumping the exercise pen to chase me. One thing led to another.

After he died, I missed him so much I had a hard time sleeping or eating on the bottom floor. But my boyfriend’s companion was even more upset. They were together day and night for years.

Sometimes she stares at the steps as if she hopes to see my roommate walking down to us, carrying my boyfriend home from the vet without the first lump or the second one.

That’s why my roommate set up a new pen in the kitchen. She moved the companion upstairs so we can all be together during the day. I chase her but not when there’s a fence.

But it’s not the same as a boyfriend and my roommate knows it. So her bright idea was to play matchmaker. Bring the English downstairs from the bedroom level and try to force them to fall in love.

When I hear them bickering over the cilantro during one of their “dates,” that’s my cue to go to the bottom level. I’m staying out of it. Not my business.

But when I’m down there under the steps, having a chew, I can hear them run across the ceiling. And I try not to worry about how things will change if they end up together.

I like taking care of my boyfriend’s companion. Remembering to say good morning and good night. Timing my hays so she’s not eating alone.

In fact, we all take care of each other in some way and that includes my agent. We remind my roommate to take breaks from the computer. We dump the water bowl so she doesn’t have to.

Everyone has a job in our little warren.

So independence is fine but I would rather be part of a family. I was free when I was living outside in the city and “no thank you.” Sometimes freedom is just nothing left to lose.

And if the English can stop being so rude, he might find that out for himself.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

When I got home from working at my agent’s house last week, the first thing I noticed was my hay box was gone. It was actually two empty boxes pushed together with a dark blanket thrown over the top.

My roommate put the whole thing together for my boyfriend and his companion. After he died, I liked to go inside for my half-naps because it smelled like him.

I also liked to dig in there, in the dark. Tear the sides into strips and pretend I was burrowing under the house. It was just a little hobby, a project for when I wasn’t at work.

I guess my roommate didn’t catch on to all that. Because when she heard my agent drop me off, she followed me downstairs to the bottom floor and stood in the middle of the room. With a big smile on her face.


“Surprise!” she said. She swung her arm, like she was knocking things off a table but really it was to make me look all around. Not just stare at the empty spot where my hay box was supposed to be.

Turns out she cleaned the entire bottom floor while I was away. The shelving unit I like to lean against when I relax is missing. So is the blue cooler and some of the brooms.

“I finally got all of the clutter out of your office, Belinda. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

The thing is, my home office is under the steps. The rest of the room is not for working but for “living.” Sleeping, eating, relaxing, hobbies.

It’s also for the big pen, which my boyfriend’s companion and I both use, just not at the same time. We take turns and it works fine but now that pen is also gone and she’s staying in the kitchen. So I have to go upstairs to say hi through the fence.

I might chase my boyfriend’s companion but we get along when there’s a pen. It’s not her fault I run after her and push her into the wall. We can still be friends as long as we have boundaries.

Anyway, it’s going to take me weeks to get used to this new setup.

I know my roommate is only trying to give me what I need. But only I know what I need.

And what I need is for her to stay out of my space.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

How will you keep cool this weekend?

It's going to be super hot here. I might take my half-naps in the "powder room."

It's a little cramped in there but the Wi-Fi is good.

#Belinda #spokesrabbit #toohot #sleepintheloo

Hello. It’s Belinda.

 First of all, thank you to everyone who left messages for me on Facebook last weekend. To let me know that you got the blog I wrote about staying at my agent’s “Airbnb.” 

I’ve been so upset about this whole email mess. And when I’m stressed out I eat. I’ve been eating so much my face hurts. 

So your comments made me feel a lot better. 

The thing is, I work for days on my blog posts. And when my agent sends them to my friends, that’s my cue to relax. But now I worry all weekend, even though my agent says “it will all come out in the wash.”

It’s been a nice break for the past week or so, working at her house. Despite having to stay in the storeroom. I also had to adjust to working a different shift. 


My agent’s hours are odd, in my opinion. At home, we all wake up with the birds. My roommate feeds us breakfast and first hay while her coffee brews. My agent doesn’t drink coffee so she wakes up later and she works late too. 

At night I like to watch my shows until bedtime. My agent perks up around sundown. That’s when she wants to talk about cost per click and hear my ideas for new herbal mixes and toys.

Her work hours are none of my business but she kept interrupting me while I was “clocked out.” Asking me to review email settings and sit beside her during calls with the tech experts. As much as I tried to focus, I kept nodding off.

But when you’re a guest you have to be flexible, even if other rabbits are in the actual “guest” room. 

So I didn’t complain about the hours or my accommodations. The storage area was about one-third the size of the guest room, where I used to stay before Justice and Bill from Las Vegas moved in. But it was clean and quiet and there was plenty to eat.

However, the truth is, that part of the third floor doesn’t have very good Wi-Fi. 

At first, I thought I wasn't connected at all. I kept trying to reply to comments on Facebook and the screen showed something about a “proxy server.” I could see a drawing of a little square face with a frown. 

I tried thumping for my agent but she was on the bottom floor and didn’t hear me. 

So I guess it was bad manners but I was out of options. I asked Justice and Bill.

“Hey you two. Do you know the Wi-Fi login?”


I walked over to the doorway of the guest room and looked in. 

Justice was standing in a pile of Flower Power Berry Boost. I could see Bill’s white ears inside the Castle.

“Hi Justice. Are you online? I’m having trouble connecting.”

She just looked at me and chewed. I got that same awkward feeling I had at the airport, when I welcomed them to Pittsburgh and they didn’t reply.

Which leads me to the point of this blog. My friends wrote to me on Facebook on Sunday and Monday and I couldn’t write back. 

I snuck in a few comments while I was downstairs with my agent, on calls with the tech team. But that only goes so far and that’s where typos come from. Multi-tasking.

So I apologize to all of you who were nice enough to leave messages for me. I was not ignoring you.

I know I said I needed a break from my roommate and the daily routine. But I am writing this from under the steps and I have to admit … it feels good to be home.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

First of all, Happy Father’s Day to everyone who celebrates. I hope you can take the day off to relax. If not, try to grab a few extra treats from the jar.                                                                        

Speaking of relaxing, did you see my Facebook post on Tuesday? I mentioned I have “vacation fever.”  

It’s all over the TV commercials. People flying off to Jamaica or walking through herds of sheep in Ireland. I could use a change of scenery too for a few days. Come back refreshed. 

My roommate reminded me that I just took time off for my elbow accident. “Besides, you just became a manager. Abigail might need you for something.” 

Her comments are one of the reasons I need to get away, if you want to know the truth. 


Anyway, I guess my agent read my post. She showed up on Tuesday and told me to pack my bags. Said she’d booked me into “a cozy new Airbnb” for a few days. 

I didn’t want to sound ungrateful but I’ve seen Airbnb on TV and I’m not a fan. If humans want to rent out their extra bedroom or tool shed to strangers for the night, that’s fine for them. But I’m too private to let a rabbit I don’t know into my pen. Even if the money is good.  

And while I can be flexible about where I stay for a night or two, I would rather see the room before I commit. 

Well it turned out when my agent said “Airbnb” she really meant the storage area on her third floor. Usually that space is full of Small Pet Select boxes – hay and toys and Castle sections. Ramps and bridges and forts. Digging boxes. Herbal mixes. Healthy snackers.  

But I guess she unpacked all of those boxes for Justice and Bill, the rabbits who moved here from Las Vegas. Because to my surprise they are not only living with my agent, they are set up in the guest room. Where I usually stay.

Anyway, it’s not my house. If I have to stay in the storeroom, that’s fine.  

And while I was expecting to hang out for the week, my agent had other plans. We spent the whole time working on the email situation. Trying to figure out why some people are not getting my blogs on Sundays. 

I don’t know how to “code” but I’ll do just about anything to fix this mess.

First of all, my friends are going to think I’m not sending emails to them anymore. Which is not the case. 

Also I have to hit my numbers. If I’m not able to remind everyone about pear blueberry healthy snackers and the rest, sales are going to tank. I don’t need that on my conscience.

I sure hope everyone gets this. If you have a chance, leave a comment for me on Facebook.

After all this email nonsense I need a vacation more than ever.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

There's a bad joke making the rounds here at home. It goes like this:

“I sent you an email.

If you don’t get it, let me know.

And I’ll send you another one.”

That's my roommate, trying to make me laugh. Because I’m dealing with a situation at work.

I didn’t laugh, but I did think, “Don’t quit your day job.” Not that she has one.

Anyway, there’s something hinky with the company email system and there is nothing funny about it.



Worst of all, I thought everything was fine until my friend “Rose Ronan” left me a message on Facebook:


I read that three times and then I said, “Hold the hoe.”

How long has this been going on?

Every week I write my blog. My agent puts my blog into the email system. When it all looks good, she hits a button labeled “send” or “mail now” or similar.

Then the emails shoot out into the internet. This is where it gets interesting.

Because Rose Ronan isn’t the only one.

Some of my blogs are landing where they’re supposed to. But others are lost on the internet somewhere. It could have something to do with time zones or solar flares, which I heard about on TV.

I don't understand how it all works, if you want to know the truth.

But now that I’m in management, I can’t just complain. I’m supposed to come up with solutions. If Andrew Carnegie had a problem with his email, would he just pace up and down inside the steel mill?

No. He would find another way to get his blogs to customers. And that’s exactly what I did.

My solution is to print my emails, fold them neatly, and ship them to everyone. If we can send hay and pellets and healthy snackers straight to the door, we can toss a blog post into the box.

I wrote a proposal explaining how it all would work and gave it to my agent to review. She pretended to read it but I could see that her eyes weren’t moving.

She was just delaying. Didn’t want to tell me, once again, that my idea was impractical.

Finally she blurted it out.

“Belinda, this is a very creative solution to the email situation.”

I waited.

“The good news is we have technology experts working on this around the clock. It will be fixed in no time.”

Then she told me it would be “too expensive” to mail tens of thousands of blogs posts every week. I assumed we could just throw them in the box with the weekly orders but it turns out customers order once a month or so, not every week.

Which was news to me.

In the meantime, I hope these technology experts can stuff envelopes because I have to hit my numbers.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

NOTE: although we always appreciate Belinda's enthusiasm, and agree she comes up with some creative solutions, please be aware that we aren't, and can't, send out her blog by snail mail.  We are very sorry if any of you have missed her weekly blogs, and rest assured, we are working hard on it.  Especially now, since Belinda is, um, supervising our efforts. - The Agent

Hello. It’s Belinda.

While my elbow was healing I had to stay in the sick pen. Which wasn’t so good for my emotional health, if you want to know the truth. Cooped up for 10 days when I’m supposed to be managing Abigail, my new employee.

And I’m already running into a snag with that because Abigail is on “California time.” I keep scheduling her for meetings and she doesn’t show up until hours later because I can’t do the math.

One day last week she woke up at 3 o’clock in the morning to dial in because that’s what I put on the calendar. I felt terrible.

My roommate said I should use the days in the sick pen to “bone up” on management and leadership topics. I just ignored her. Not in the mood for puns or self-help nonsense.



But then she gave me a book by one of the greats.  Maybe you’ve heard of him.

“Dale Carnegie.”

He’s a big deal here in Pittsburgh. There’s a library named after him, and a museum. A science center and half a university. Even a town.

All because he made a lot of money running steel mills. Plus he somehow found time to write a book called “How to Win Friends and Influence People.”

I figured if he could do all of that, I should read what he taught about how to be a good leader. So I skipped to the part where he lists the tips and tricks.

Here are just a few:

 “Call attention to people's mistakes indirectly.“ 

“Talk about your own mistakes before criticizing the other person.”

“Ask questions instead of giving direct orders.“

“Make the other person happy about doing what you suggest.“

At this point I stopped reading.

From what I could tell, Dale Carnegie might know how to run steel mills but he has no idea what I’m up against. Not a single one of his tips is going to make “11 a.m.” mean the same thing to everybody, like it did in the old days.

I know my roommate was only trying to help by lending that book to me. But next time I’ll say no thank you. And here’s why.

The next day, she was sweeping the sick pen when she found my notes about steel mills.

“Belinda, you work for a hay company. Why are you researching the steel industry?”

I pretended to be asleep.

Then I heard the broom smack into “How to Win Friends and Influence People.” She stopped sweeping and turned to look at me.

“Belinda. Did you think Dale Carnegie owned steel mills?”

If she could just stay out of my work papers.

Then she laughed and said that was Andrew. “Andrew Carnegie.” He’s the one with all the museums and plaques.

So there you go.

Obviously I need to track down books by Andrew Carnegie. Might take an Uber to his library.

In the meantime, I know someone who should brush up on “how to win friends.”



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

My first week as a manager went pretty smoothly.

Abigail, the novelist I hired, got her work done ahead of time. So her first blog post was ready to go for Wednesday’s email. Next week’s chapter is also done, so I’m off the hook with that too.

I hope you read Abigail’s first post. It’s a “cliffhanger” and you do not want to miss what happens next in her novel.

All I can say is it’s easy to be a good manager when you have employees like Abigail. She’s on her game, if you know what I mean.

And it’s a good thing the week was easy because, on Sunday, I had an accident at home.

I’m OK, but I had to go to the vet. I even had to get an X-ray of my elbow.


You might wonder if I have “carpal tunnel” from all the extra paperwork at my job or from trying to dig an actual tunnel.

The truth is a lot more embarrassing. I was goofing around on the furniture and I slipped and fell. I landed the wrong way and I hit my elbow on the floor.

My roommate saw the whole thing. I tried to act like everything was fine, but you can’t hide anything from her.

First thing she did was put me in the pen so I couldn’t run up and down the steps. I did a lap to show her my leg didn’t hurt but the problem was it did hurt.

When it got bad I lifted my paw off the floor and held it in the air. I tried to act casual, like it was just a new way to stand.

Next thing you know I’m on my way home from the vet with some pain medicine and doctor’s orders to “take it easy” for the week. I had to call in sick on Monday and Tuesday, which is the last way I wanted to start my new role.

My agent took care of getting Abigail settled and excused me from some meetings. She was very understanding about the whole thing, which is more than I can say for my roommate.

And here’s why. On Tuesday morning, when my roommate was rinsing out my water bowl, she gave me a side look.

“Belinda, I keep thinking about this accident. About the timing.”

I wasn't sure where she was going.

“You play on the steps and on the furniture all the time. But the day before you start your new position, you fall and get hurt.”

Then she said it.

She asked if my accident was “self-sabotage.”

I don’t need to prove myself to her.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

I can't believe what my roommate said.

After she watched the royal wedding, she said it was a shame I didn't get along with the English.

"You could be living with him on the second floor, Belinda. He could be your prince."

This is why I say it's "crowded" here.

My career is taking off. But instead of focusing on my new job, she wants to keep reminding me that I'm single.

Not to brag ... but did you hear about my big promotion?



Read about it here =>

#Belinda #spokesrabbit #royalwedding #promotion #cannotpleasemyroommate

Hello. It’s Belinda.

Well, today’s the day. I finally get to make my big announcement.

I hired another rabbit.

Can you believe it?

You might be wondering if I have the authority to do this and the answer is no. But I “rolled the dice” as they say in Las Vegas and I lucked out.

Her name is Abigail, she’s a Netherland Dwarf and she’s now part of the Small Pet Select writing team.

And get this: She’s a novelist. She’s writing a book about life with her roommate, “Dad.” He never lived with a rabbit before she moved in so she had to teach him everything from scratch.

So what does all of this mean? It means that every Wednesday, you’ll get a chapter of “Through Abigail’s Eyes” in your email. I hope you sign up for the emails because Abigail’s novel is going to be a big smash hit. Once I started reading my advance copy I couldn’t put it down, if you want to know the truth.



This announcement also means I'm moving into management. I can’t believe it.

It’s funny how well things have turned out, considering the fast one I pulled.

The thing is, for weeks before my birthday, I thought I was going to fired. My roommate and my agent kept acting funny, sneaking around and mumbling about “Earth Day cards” and “inviting other rabbits.”  

It seemed obvious to me that Small Pet Select was looking for a new spokesrabbit. But instead of giving me a pink slip, they gave me the best surprise birthday bash of my life. And my friends mailed me 65 birthday cards, not Earth Day cards. I just wish I had asked my agent what was going on instead of thinking the worst.

But I got so worked up that I went behind her back and called a notary office. To make arrangements for what would happen after I was let go.  

Here’s what everyone needs to remember. I’ve put a lot of myself into this job since I was hired last September. Figured out how to hack into the system to add big white bunnies to the Top 10 Cuties. Got up the nerve to work the table with Josh at Midwest BunFest. Earned record-breaking sales for my Belinda Bundle. Helped the Las Vegas rabbits. Learned how to develop new product ideas and not take it personally when all my ideas are rejected.

Plus a lot more behind the scenes.

I didn’t want all my hard work and good ideas to be undone by a new spokesrabbit. A new rabbit would want to “make their mark.”

So I thought if I hired Abigail she could do two things. One, as a novelist, give the rabbit’s point of view in a new way.  And two, be my “mole” inside the company. Help to keep my ideas and projects going, even after I was gone.

It seemed like a good exit strategy. So I offered her the job and she accepted. The notary drew up the papers and sent it off to Mr. Gordon at headquarters. I guess when he saw the notary stamp at the bottom he knew he was cornered.

But then my birthday arrived and “surprise,” I wasn’t fired after all.

So ever since then, I’m the one who has felt cornered. Waking up in the middle of the night, wondering if the company would want two rabbits on the payroll. Worried that I’d be written up for hiring an employee without permission.

It took a couple of weeks but we got the whole thing worked out. Turns out they think that Abigail's novel is just the right addition to the company blogs.

I’ve never been a manager before. I'm a little nervous, to be honest. If I want my boyfriend’s companion or the English to do something, I just chase them. That’s fine for at home but at work I have to use “total quality management.” I’m five years old and I’m ready for the challenge.

This whole thing has been a whirlwind and I’m glad we can finally get back to selling hay.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Today is my last easy day on the job. 

Take five for a hay break? "Don't mind if I do," if you know what I mean. Repeat all morning. 

Be sure to read my email on Sunday. All about what happened with the notary and the big boss, etc. 

I want to say more so badly but I need to keep mum. 

Speaking of that ... did you see what we did for Mother's Day?


Check it out =>…/belinda-says-hay-not-a-mother

#Belinda #spokesrabbit #mothersday #bigreveal #promotion

Did you hear about the email "mayhem" yesterday?

Some people want emails about rabbits but not hamsters. Others want to read about guinea pigs and chinchillas but not ferrets. 

So my agent (Wolfie) has been fiddling around in the email system. To set things up.

But something funny is going on because now emails are going out every which way.

Rabbit people getting chinchilla emails, guinea pig people getting hamster emails. And so forth.

My poor agent. She keeps pulling on her hair

I want to do something extra nice for her but I’m not sure what.

Any ideas? FYI she doesn’t care for healthy snackers.

Speaking of emails, I hope you got mine last Sunday. It's about my trip to the airport.

Let me know what you think of it =>

#Belinda #spokesrabbit #airport #LasVegas

Hello. It’s Belinda.

Some big news is coming. Changes for me at work. It’s a win-win, especially if you like my blog.

I wish I could say more but for now I have to “keep mum.”

Today is all about the holiday.

First of all, “Happy Mother’s Day” to everyone who celebrates. I hope you get some flowers to eat or whatever you like best.

Thanks to a certain procedure I had done at the shelter, I won’t be having kits. And my mother is somewhere in New Zealand.

But I’m going to celebrate anyway. Do something nice for my roommate.



Because to get ready for my new role at work, I need to practice taking care of others. Notice when they need something.

And my roommate needs some extra TLC from time to time, if you want to know the truth. She deserves it. Even though she’s not our mom, she tries to give us all what we need and not play favorites.

For example, she knows we like to run around the dining room while she’s “working” in there. But we can’t run loose together because I chase the English and my boyfriend’s companion.

So she set up fences and a schedule and we take turns. The English gets the morning shift. I can hear him running around and my roommate talking to him while I eat my breakfast on the bottom floor.

And even though he can stay with her until noon, sometimes I can hear him walk back upstairs to the bedroom level early. His choice.

But that leaves my roommate all by herself at the dining room table. With nothing to do, except look at the computer all day.

Humans are social and it’s not good for her to sit there like that. So for the past week or two I’ve been taking initiative.

First, I walk up the steps to the kitchen. When I come to the fence, I bite into one of the metal bars and shake the whole thing back and forth.

That’s when it starts.

“Belinda! Leave that exercise pen alone!”

I wait a few seconds. If she doesn’t come to get me I push my shoulder against the pen, over and over. To make it slide across the floor.

“Belinda! I can’t think straight.”

It’s not a very good fence, to tell you the truth. If I run into it full-tilt, the sides fold and I can walk around the end part.

Next thing you know I’m standing next to her chair.

I guess she gets suspicious because all the racket stops. She’ll look away from the computer and look down and see me.

Then she’ll say “you silly girl” and pet me on the shoulders. Tell me I’m a good girl. Mixed messages. She doesn't even realize I'm just trying to take care of her.

So for Mother’s Day I’m mixing it up myself.

Even if she’s sitting at the table for hours, I’m not going to mess with the fence. No shaking or rattling, not matter how much I want to.

My gift to my roommate is peace and quiet.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

I got the surprise of my life last Saturday.

It all started when my agent showed up at my house.

“Get yourself together, Belinda. We’re going to the airport.”

Told me we needed to greet two rabbits. “Justice and Bill.”

Until a month or so ago, they were living outdoors in Las Vegas. 

Bill was found looking for food and water at a trailer park. Justice was rescued from a field outside a building and not a minute too soon either. Because as they were riding away she gave birth in the car.

Anyway, on the way down the hall to baggage claim I practiced what I would say. To make them feel welcome.

You can watch me riding through the airport in my Belindamobile by clicking here.  


Turns out I’ve been learning a lot about Las Vegas lately thanks a TV show. It’s about a detective named “Dan Tanna.”

Sometimes I fall asleep when my shows are on but I pick up the lingo anyway. Which helped me to figure out how to greet Justice and Bill.

“Welcome to Pennsylvania,” I said. “You’re going to love living with my agent.”

“You really hit the jackpot.”

No response from either one. They just watched me from inside their carriers. 

It was a little awkward, if you want to know the truth. Waiting there in silence as Justice, Bill, their rescuers Stacey and Jodie and I all looked at each other.

Finally my agent piped up and said, “They must be tired from their long flight, Belinda.”

Then it happened.

She told me the rabbits are “still on Las Vegas time.”

Las Vegas time?

I had no idea there was such a thing.

I’m finally adjusted to this whole Daylight Saving Time business and waking up when I’m supposed to. A few minutes before breakfast. Not in the middle of the night or an hour late.

And now I find out that rabbits from Las Vegas, even after they fly on a plane to Pennsylvania, are two hours in the past.

So if I ask them if they know Dan Tanna or some other “ice breaker” question, I guess I have to wait two hours for a reply. Or maybe four hours if it’s round-trip.

All I know for certain is that Justice and Bill have settled in at my agent’s house. They’re in the guest room where I usually stay, with the wooden Thistledown Keep fortress and Castle Commons and all the tunnels and ramps.

They have more hay than a rabbit could eat in a million years and I mean real years, not Daylight Saving Time or Las Vegas. Plus hanging wood mobiles, dried okra pods, willow balls. You name it.

A few months ago, living outdoors, they never imagined their luck could change this much.

Some things you just don’t see coming. Like rabbits who are right in front of you but two hours away.

Or my other big surprise of the week. “Silence from the big boss.”

Before my birthday party, when I thought I was being fired, I drew up an “exit strategy” about some things that would happen at the company after I was gone.

I got some others involved and had them sign agreements. Took it all to the notary office, which means you have to do what the papers say. Even if I want to undo it, it’s too late because of that notary stamp.

Everything was mailed to Mr. Gordon at company headquarters. But so far, I have not heard a word about it.

I’m starting to think he and my agent might “call my bluff,” as they say in Las Vegas.

That would be the biggest surprise of all.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

My roommate asked me how it feels to have a surprise party. With the birthday cards and games and everything.

She had such a happy look on her face I didn’t have the heart to tell her the whole story. About my feelings after Sunday, which was one of the best days and worst days of my life.

Best day because of the party. I had the happiest birthday ever. I can’t believe how much time and effort everyone put in, from my coworkers to all my friends around the country.

Worst day because I woke up thinking it was my last day as spokesrabbit. When the Uber dropped me off at my agent’s house for the “mystery meeting,” I just stood on her porch. Afraid to go inside.

Even though everything turned out OK, now I’m a wreck about something else. A secret that involves my friends at the notary office.


So since Monday my feelings have been all over the place. Up and down and sideways.

First, happy about the party. Every time I read though my birthday cards I find something new to like.

Relieved that I’m not fired.

Worried about hacking into the email last week. Nobody has mentioned it yet.

Surprised that I was so wrong about everything.

Sad that my boyfriend isn’t here to see this. He loved a party. Plus he was good at calming me down.

Mad at myself. For letting my mind run wild like that. I’m five years old and I should handle things like an adult.

But more than anything, afraid about some documents I drew up. Business-related papers to make sure “the rabbit’s voice was still heard” after I was gone. Can’t say anything else about it right now.

I asked my notary friends if the whole thing was a good idea. They said they don’t have opinions. They just put the official notary stamp on all the agreements. If I want advice I need to call an attorney. Not their job.

So I’ve been busy trying to cover my tracks, if you know what I mean. Hopefully this will all blow over.  

But for now, I’m going to relax and read some of my birthday cards.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Sorry to come to work looking like this but I’m still exhausted from Sunday.

I don’t even know what to say. 

Thank you to everyone for coming to my surprise party. And for sending so many nice messages and cards and the donation for the Las Vegas rabbits. 

I love my mini-me from Jessica. And the pear blueberry healthy snackers from J.

Congratulations to everyone who won the hourly contests. 

First of all, way to go helping to raise $325 during my party for the House Rabbit Society. They helped my roommate a lot years ago and “it all comes back around,” if you know what I mean.

Holly, good job guessing the right amount of chewies in the jar. You get a big stash of healthy snackers as your prize. One bag in each flavor.

Amber I’m glad your entry won the lookalike contest. I will try to use that face on you-know-who. Watch your mail for the grooming/spa package.


Robert you get a 12-toy sampler for winning the favorite quote contest. You picked a good quote.

Kathy I hope you like that hand-made replica you won for the nicknames contest. My agent and my roommate say it looks just like me.

Some other gifts are on the way to the first 40 people who sent me a card in the comments at my party. Also to the 60 people who mailed cards to me.

I can’t believe all of this.

I work for the best company in the world. Everyone went to so much trouble. Including my roommate and Dusty Bunneh and other rabbits who helped to plan my bash.

I had my exit strategy ready to go on Sunday.

In fact some of it is already moving ahead unless my notary can get me out of certain agreements. 

I hate to think about that now but papers have been signed and notarized so “we’ll see.” 

Sorry to be talking in circles. You can learn more here =>

I'm nodding off. 


Thank you to everyone. I'm so embarrased. You all keep a secret really well. I thought for sure this was my last day, and instead it was my best. Thank you, thank you, friends. 🐰 -- Belinda


Hello. It’s Belinda.

Today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me! 

This will be a good day no matter what happens. Thanks in part to my new friends at the notary office.

I was born in 2013 so I’m five. I don’t feel five. 

Not sure how my roommate found out I was born on April 22 but she got this date from somewhere. Probably the shelter, since they wrote “New Zealand White” on my papers. 

So the date must have been on my passport or other documents for getting through customs. I don’t have any of those records now and I hate to blame the shelter but I would not misplace anything that important.

I thought I could just spend the day relaxing but get this—I have to work. My agent scheduled me for a meeting at her house. On a Sunday, which is weird.


But maybe it isn’t weird at all because the “monkey business” at work and at home has been getting worse. 

For one thing, my roommate has been sneaking around more than ever. She has no idea how loud she is.

She also forgets that my hearing is excellent.  I lived outside in the city before I went to the shelter. With all the cars and dogs you have to be on high alert. “Listen to the grass grow.” 

I don’t want to live like that at home but my mind has been jumping every which way. Lately I’ve been taking my half-naps on the bottom floor by the furnace. So I can listen to my roommate through the vents.

I hear things like “Earth Day cards” and “invite more rabbits” and “blocked from Facebook.” Now and then my name. 

I check Facebook and sometimes I see pictures and words as usual and other times I see grey boxes. Which means I’m blocked. 

All I can think is the company is posting “help wanted” ads and they don’t want me to know. Must be starting the new rabbit with an Earth Day promo. 

If they want to hire a new spokesrabbit there is nothing I can do about it. Out of my control. 

But I’m not going to just walk into the trap, if you know what I mean. My agent wants to meet with me today and I’ll be there on time. 

But if she fires me I will be ready. And I’ll walk out with my head held high. 

And here’s why. Out on the streets, I always had an escape plan. Same idea with leaving a job. My new friends at the notary office call it an exit strategy.  

Whatever you call it, that’s my birthday gift to myself. An exit strategy, just in case. 

Here's where you can help. Although I feel funny asking for anything, I do want to “go out with a bang.” 

So if you want to give me a birthday present, share this blog or forward my email to a friend. The company watches my numbers. So even if I don’t see the big bang, my agent will.

And while that would make me feel better about all of this nonsense I’ve been dealing with, that’s not the main reason really. 

I took this job to help rabbits. There are still so many out there who never tried a pear blueberry healthy snacker or stuck their head inside a hay sampler box.  

This may be my last chance to get some snackers to them. Through their humans. 

It’s almost like I’m having a birthday party and these rabbits are my special guests.

The rest of my exit strategy is secret for now.

Thank you for reading my blog and for being my friend.



 Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hi it’s me Belinda and this is a secret message.

I blocked everyone at Small Pet Select from this post. Also my roommate. 

All week long I see grey shapes here instead of words and photos. Like I’m blocked.

I don’t know what’s going on but a rabbit has to look out for herself, if you know what I mean.

I hope you can help me with something. On Sunday morning, which happens to be my birthday, you’ll get an email from me like always. But it’s a special email so I hope you will open it.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine whatever happens.

For one thing, I’m getting some documents together “just in case.” You can read all about it here =>


Hello. It’s Belinda.

Nothing new to report on my roommate’s sneaky phone call about “Earth Day cards.”

Dusty Bunneh wrote on the company Facebook page that he’s not after my job. Everyone could see his comment so I guess I should stop worrying.

I have other things on my mind anyway. Big changes coming.

First of all, I have a big birthday coming up on April 22. So I’m trying to focus on that instead of nonsense from my roommate. She hasn’t even mentioned my birthday because she’s in a panic about taxes.

That’s the second thing on my mind. Turns out you’re supposed to send papers to the government if you have a job. After they check your math they send you a “tax refund.”


The TV commercials talk about it. “Enjoy your tax refund with a trip to Disney World.”

Well I wouldn’t mind tapping into that Disney money. But I would go to New Zealand. If I lose my spokesrabbit job maybe I’ll just stay there.

The thing is I need help getting the numbers together. I haven’t been paid since I started this job back in September so not sure what to send in.

My roommate isn’t sure either but with her own taxes. She has been sitting at the dining room table all week moving papers from one side to the other.

Some little scraps fell to the floor and I ran over to help and she yelled, “No! My receipts!”

That’s what it’s been like here. I was digging in my kitchen box like usual and I hear, “Belinda! I’m on the phone with my CPA!” Which meant I was too noisy.

Later I got onto my roommate’s laptop and looked up “CPA” to see what the big deal was. That’s when it all clicked. A CPA could help me get my refund money.

But that’s not all.

Some CPAs are also notaries. That means they put a stamp on your papers to make them official. If I hand you a document and you see a notary stamp you have to do what it says.

And that is how I dug up my birthday gift to myself. Because I’m going to be five years old and it’s time to do things my way. Especially at work.

And with help from my new friends at the notary office, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

It keeps snowing.

I’m getting worried about the lettuce crops.

Do you think they’ll be OK?



Hello. It’s Belinda.

Something fishy is going on and I’m not a fan. It all started with my roommate acting funny.

A few days ago, I woke up from my half-nap because I had an itch. Hay crumb in my ear.

I heard her upstairs in the kitchen on the phone. She was laughing and carrying on about something and I heard my name not once but twice.

No way to sleep after that so I walked up the steps as slowly as I could. Skipped the one that creaks.

Stopped near the top with just my head showing. Didn’t dare step onto the kitchen floor with the clicking.


“She has no idea. Her agent told everyone to keep quiet.”

Her back was to me and she was fiddling with something at the counter. I heard bags.

“Right, it’s a Sunday. April 22.”

I turned so I could listen with my strong ear. She started banging things around, opening and closing drawers.

Mumbling but it sounded like “Earth Day cards” and “Rusty Bunny” and “great to work with.”

Rusty Bunny?

I kept hearing that over and over, like it was doing laps. Rusty Bunny Rusty Bunny. Finally it stopped doing laps because I realized she meant Dusty Bunneh. From California.

Who I thought was my friend.

I was so startled I tilted forward a little and then it happened. I tripped and stumbled into the kitchen and that was the end of that.

My roommate spun around and said “Ah-Belinda-hi!”

Then she said I’ll call you back and put the phone in her pocket.

Now this may not seem like a big deal but here’s the problem. I have been living here since September 2013, when I was six months old. I will be five in a few weeks and the fact is my roommate has never spun and said “Ah-hi!” to me before this.

She smiled at me but her eyes were funny, like she was watching a bug fly around. I went back downstairs and tried to sleep. Kept waking up thinking about Rusty Bunny Rusty Bunny.

I figured the only way to get to the bottom of this would be to stick my neck out and just ask Dusty Bunneh. Not sure if I’m supposed to use the Small Pet Select social media sites for personal business but I have no choice. They won’t give me the email password after what happened back in October.

That’s when I saw it. A post on the company Facebook page with comments but it was all in grey. Just a bunch of shapes instead of words. Like I was blocked. Clicked on it but nothing happened.

Since then I have spent most of my time under the steps. Not sure if I should ask Dusty Bunneh anything. Because when you see grey shapes instead of words you might really be seeing the writing on the wall, if you know what I mean.

My roommate and my agent are trying to get Dusty Bunneh on the team. That’s all I can think. To replace me as spokesrabbit. Sounds like they are starting with some sort of special cards for Earth Day.

I probably shouldn’t even be writing this but I can’t think about anything else right now. Not even alfalfa, that’s how much of a wreck I am.

For those of you who missed seeing a post on Easter because I had the day off, thanks for having my back and asking about it. I’m sorry today’s post is so gloomy but if I’m right and Dusty Bunneh takes over maybe he won’t be such a “Debbie Downer.”



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

I mentioned last week that my roommate gave us nicknames for St. Patrick’s Day. O’Malley and Murphy and Kelly. “Belinda O’Brien.”

Well what I didn’t mention is that this goes on all the time. Not just holidays.

It all started when I moved in here four years ago. I was still getting the “lay of the land” with nap schedules and such when I noticed my roommate yelled a lot.

I was used to the shelter, which was nice and quiet most of the day. Good for my nerves after living on the streets. Employees and volunteers would come into the room and say hi but in a normal tone.


I can hear you if you are coming up the steps or walking right past me for example. I have large ears.

Well I guess being home with us all day makes my roommate a little rowdy. Needs to burn off energy because we nap after breakfast and that can go on all day. She’s quiet while we sleep but then it wears off.


I usually hear her at the top of the steps around 5 p.m.

“Come on up for a snack!”

If I don’t run up right away because I’m getting myself together that’s when the nicknames start.

“Bee! Hey Bee!”

Once this starts anything can happen. Bee turns into Honey Bee then Bippy.

She used to call my boyfriend Handsome which turned into Goose and Dr. Who.

She calls his companion Bluebird and Blueberry and Violet Beauregarde. Which makes no sense.

Besides those, at any given moment she might call out the following:




Snow Bear

Sugar Bear

Pooh Bear



Plus whatever she calls the English. Muffled through the ceiling and the heating vents.

Sometimes she’ll stop on the stairs and look at us. Then she’ll say, “Ladies and Gentleman, please give a warm welcome to: Adele!”

The next day it changes to: “Please put your hands together for Lady Gaga!”

We all ignore her because it’s too much work, to be honest.

I don’t think she’s even talking to us. It’s like when I thump and don’t know why but it feels better afterward. If anyone asks what’s up with the thump I just pretend I didn’t hear them.

Now, I feel funny writing about this. My roommate has been so nice through everything that happened with my boyfriend.

But now that he’s gone I guess I notice other things more. Especially when they’re loud and nonsense.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Belinda Says: chocolate is the way to go at Easter! Take some time. Talk to rescues and shelters. And don't bring an animal in to your home on a busy weekend or holiday...everyone will be happier in the long run!


Hello. It’s Belinda.

My roommate says everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. She wore a green hat all day yesterday and kept calling us weird names. O’Malley and Murphy and Kelly.

It started right after breakfast. We could hear her upstairs in the fridge and then the yelling.

“Hey, Belinda O’Brien! Want some greens?”

She told us greens were the perfect food for the day. Cilantro, romaine, red leaf lettuce. I agree.

For herself, she cooked potato soup and I don’t know what else but it smelled horrible. My boyfriend’s companion and I spent the day on the bottom floor. A little fresher, if you know what I mean.


The nicknames and the odors made her happy so I tried to be a good sport. But I drew the line at being called Irish.

Nothing wrong with people from Ireland or wannabes. But I’m from New Zealand. Which makes me a “Kiwi,” according to what I read on the web.

And I’ve been reading a lot about my homeland lately, if you want to know the truth. I have a birthday coming up next month. Makes me wonder about my early years.

I have no idea how I got to the United States. Not sure what’s a bigger mystery—how I got here, or the fact that I can’t remember the plane ride or anything before it.

The shelter knows, which is why they put “New Zealand White” on my adoption sheet. But I moved here before I got the whole story. Can’t stop thinking about it.

My boyfriend used to say I should let it go. “Why dig up old dirt?”

Well some things you can’t change. It’s in your DNA.  I might be an American now and I like living here with my roommate and having a job. But I’m also a digger.

And speaking of DNA, I thought a home DNA test would help. So my roommate bought me one for Christmas. Get this—it turns out the kit’s for humans, not rabbits. That’s what happens when you shop for gifts at the last minute. No time to read the fine print.

She said if we sent my saliva to that company it would “upset the scientists.” Then she laughed.

Well to me there is nothing funny about this situation. You can wear green hats all the day long and peel potatoes into a bowl. That doesn’t make you Irish but you can play along. In the meantime, I don’t even know if I have a holiday.

I like being the only spokesrabbit, though somedays it’s a lonely row to hoe.

But when everyone around you is Irish, it’s even lonelier to be a Kiwi-American.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

I’m not a fan of Daylight Saving Time. Already went through this in November.

Well it’s back again, but the other way around, losing an hour. But at the same time, the days are longer, according to the humans. So which is it?

My roommate was worried about everyone being off our schedules. She started giving us Zen Tranquility blend last weekend.

“Here you go, Belinda.” Puts a saucer of it down by my sleeping rug. Gives it a little earlier every day.

“A pinch of tasty herbs to help you get through the jet lag.”

Jet lag? I haven’t been on a plane since I left New Zealand. And I have no plans to travel.


Only thing going anywhere is this planet, spinning toward and away from the sun. The whole day-night thing is predictable and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.   

I’m not proud of this but I guess I was mad about the time change. So I didn’t eat the Zen Tranquility blend. Every day I hid it under the steps, in my stash.

Well, yesterday afternoon I was in the mood for a snack and not hay. Next thing you know I’m enjoying a week’s worth of those herbs in one sitting. Lemon balm, lavender, rose petals, red clover flower and the rest.

It’s supposed to make you relax but I don’t know. I was too twisted around thinking about “spring ahead.” Stretched out under the steps trying to do the math.

First of all, this longer days business is nonsense. One day has 24 hours. No more no less.

If you want “extra hours,” they have to come from somewhere. Could try to shift a few from the other side of the world but they won’t go for that. Metric system for one thing.

When it’s morning here it’s tomorrow afternoon in New Zealand. If I fly there I’ll land the next day. Hard to plan.

You can borrow hours from another month but that’s a fool’s bet. Too easy to lose track and then you get to August or November and there’s a splice. Hours cut willy-nilly here and there.

Should be enough time for eating or just going downstairs and instead you hit the splice. Skip ahead like when your roommate bumps the DVD machine. Eating lunch and you open your eyes and it’s nighttime in a blink.


My roommate. I opened my eyes.

The room was dark.  A splice!

“You’ve been asleep for hours. Come on out … it’s time for your herbs.”



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

It’s a “leprechaun edition” healthy snacker with cilantro and pear.

I wish I could take credit for it but it wasn’t my idea. Not sure who gets the honors.

However, my agent did ask me to pitch in a few suggestions for this and other spring promotions. After what happened last time I felt a little jumpy about the whole thing.

In case you didn’t read about it, just after the new year, I came up with ideas for new products. A jumbo bag of dirt for digging, a new herbal blend with plants from other continents and an exercise pen made from sticks.


Not to brag, but I thought they’d all be a big hit. Instead, the team said my ideas were “original” but “impractical.” Which put even more pressure on me for my next round.

But that’s why they call it work and that’s what I did, right through my morning half-nap. For three days in a row.

By the time I sent my suggestions to my agent I felt like I had my groove back.

Unfortunately, my roommate was walking past at that exact moment and I showed her my report.  Thought she’d be impressed and maybe an extra snacker would be coming my way. Cilantro pear or otherwise.

My first idea was to sell bags of four-leaf clovers. I even wrote the ad: “Imagine your rabbit’s face when he hears you open a bag and sees you pour a pile of these rare clovers onto his plate.”  My roommate said it would take “forever” to find enough four-leaf clovers to fill one bag.

“It’s just not practical,” she said. That word again.

My second idea was to offer something for the humans for a change. Bags of coffee beans grown in Ireland. For making Irish coffee.

My roommate looked at me and didn’t say anything for about two minutes. Then she said that isn’t what Irish coffee means. There is no such thing as coffee grown in Ireland, according to roommatopedia.

At this point I wanted her to stop reading. Didn’t need her negativity and besides she doesn’t work for the company anyway.

But it was too late. She was already onto my third suggestion, which wasn’t for a product. Instead, I had the idea that the entire team should fly to Ireland to research shamrocks and such.

Because how can we come up with St. Patrick’s Day specials when we’re stuck in the United States?

Well, I guess this was very entertaining because my roommate laughed out loud.

“Belinda, do you know what it costs to fly a group of people to Ireland?”

I didn’t answer. Not my job. I don’t keep the books and I have no interest in the price of airfare and clover-picking.  My job is to speak for rabbits and other tasks as assigned.

Well, so far my agent has not said anything to me about my ideas. So I’m in limbo on that.

In the meantime, I’m enjoying these leprechaun edition healthy snackers.  “Top of the morning” to whomever came up with mixing cilantro and pear.

It’s not just tasty. It’s practical.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

This is me having an early morning chew in the kitchen.

I’ve been spending a lot of time up here since my boyfriend died. At first it was to keep an eye on my roommate and my boyfriend’s companion during the day. Make sure they’re OK.

Also because the bottom floor is lonely without him.

But I’m starting to like being upstairs. It’s good to have a new routine.


If you didn’t hear about my boyfriend, you can read what happened here =>


Hello. It’s Belinda.

My roommate asked me what I would write about my boyfriend dying. I said I don’t know.

And to tell you the truth, I didn’t want to write anything at all. It’s too sad. Seemed like nothing good could come of it.

She told me to take as long as I needed. She’s been extra kind to me lately, to all of us really.

So last week I wrote about the Olympics instead. About how my roommate was watching TV a lot for a distraction and now you know why. It was because the lump came back and my boyfriend kept falling.


After he died, my roommate moved my boyfriend’s companion upstairs so we could all be together during the day. I nap up there too so I can see her through the pen. I make sure everyone is OK. I chase the companion too much so I have to stay in the kitchen but we can all talk to each other.

My roommate was very upset. She cried a lot those first days and she was quiet all week compared to normal, except when she was watching the Olympics.

But she spent a lot of time snuggling on the floor with the companion and grooming my face and ears. It was a nice routine and after a week I was looking forward to it. Felt like we were taking care of each other.

And then we got the news about the Las Vegas rabbits.

I won’t go into a lot of detail because it’s hard enough to think about my boyfriend’s death, and he was treated like a king.  He got away with everything, even before the surgery. Even though he had such a good life, it hurts a lot that he died. 

And I know not every rabbit has a happy home.

In case you didn’t already know, there were hundreds of rabbits in Las Vegas living outdoors in fields. Some were born there and others were released by people, just like I was but in the city.

Volunteers visited every day to take care of them. They found homes for as many as they could. But hundreds of rabbits is a lot so they asked us for help.

My boss, Mr. Gordon, flew from Washington to Las Vegas a few weeks ago to meet the rabbits and fill some food and water stations. He talked to the volunteers about how Small Pet Select could help, especially with a big transport already planned for this past week. Rescues in other states were pitching in to take in the rabbits, which was nice. 

Everything was ready to go when, last Sunday, volunteers went to the fields and something horrible had happened. A lot of rabbits were missing. And a lot of rabbits had died overnight.

I don’t want to say anything else about that.

But I want to talk about what happened next.

Everything went into high gear. Volunteers captured as many rabbits as they could from the fields. They called for more help, new volunteers made space, and they went back and captured more. Other rescues around the country signed up to take rabbits.

Our team got to work too. We sent 2000 pounds of pellets, 70 water bottles, 180 pounds of timothy, 60 pounds of alfalfa, and nine large packs of bedding for the overnight stops. The alfalfa was my idea.

Customers pitched in too, using a special code on our website. In the first few days they sent more than $6,000 in exercise pens, carriers, hay and other food and supplies to the rabbits and the people helping them.

Plus they donated money online to help rescues rent the vans and pay for gas and other costs.

The first 100 or so rabbits left Las Vegas on Thursday and the next 100 are getting ready now. My roommate says they will keep capturing and moving the rabbits until they are all safe.

I still think there is nothing good to say about losing a friend. Or friends.

That’s why we don’t use words. We take care of each other.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

I will never forget this week.

My roommate always says the “bunny community” is very special.

I always thought she meant just us, here at home. But now I know she means all the rabbits and humans who take care of each other. From Las Vegas to Florida to Washington state and everywhere else. Everyone doing what they can.

It makes me so proud to be a spokesrabbit.


Speaking of that, did you see my post about the Olympics? Read it here =>


My agent thinks she's giving me a hug but it's the other way around.

The news about the Las Vegas deaths was so upsetting. When I was young, I was released outdoors with other rabbits. I know what it’s like and I know how lucky I am.

This week, about 100 of the rabbits are moving from Las Vegas to rescues on the east coast. They will have to stop overnight a few times. I was glad to hear we are donating food and supplies to the places they will rest along the way. 

I made sure they sent some alfalfa with everything else. The Las Vegas rabbits may not feel like eating after all that’s happened but alfalfa is hard to resist.


We will probably watch TV a lot this week to take our mind off things. Just like last week =>



Hello. It’s Belinda.

My roommate always says we don’t have to be so territorial in this house. That there’s plenty of hay and healthy snackers for everyone so it’s not a competition. She says I should compete against myself, whatever that means.

But with caring for my boyfriend after his lump came back and all the rain and cold weather, my roommate must be worn out. She’s been doing nothing all week except sitting on the couch watching the Olympics.

 Nothing wrong with that except for all the noise.

“Go! Go!

 “Yeah! You got this!”



And then clapping. The people at the Olympics can’t hear any of this so I don’t understand the theatrics.

I don’t want to be a spoilsport. But we’re all trying to get in a half-nap or two and it’s hard with the shouting and truck commercials and music. Even if I go under the steps for a chew I can hear her and the TV through the ceiling.

But then it got worse. She started teasing me about it.

The first time, I was relaxing at the top of the steps, looking down to the bottom floor. Suddenly I heard her walking behind me.

“Psyching up for your alpine ski run, Belinda?”

I didn’t respond. I pretended I had something to do downstairs and ran down the steps.

“Watch those moguls, Belinda!” she yelled. “Bend your knees!”

Later, when she was sweeping old hay and cardboard scraps off my rug, she told me I’d better be careful because the Zamboni was coming.  A broom is not a Zamboni so again I just ignored her.

Then, the next morning, she accidentally kicked my water bowl across the floor. Instead of apologizing, she said the curling match had begun and the United States was in the lead.

Here’s where it gets personal. She asked if I was rooting for the US or New Zealand.

The thing about living with humans and rabbits is you have to let things go. They will get into your alfalfa stash. They will bunch up your sleeping rug. They will groom your ears in the wrong order.

And sometimes they will blurt things out about your past at the worst time, like when you are relaxing after breakfast. Because although I don’t know much about my early years, before I was taken from the city streets to the shelter, that doesn’t mean I want to be quizzed about my homeland at seven o’clock in the morning.

But my roommate made it up to me. She was loading my hay manger with orchard medley last night and I put my nose in before she was finished. She laughed and told me I get the gold medal for hay eating.

I started to get offended when I realized something. That was the best compliment I’ve ever had.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

The English pulled a fast one this week and this time he went too far.

Because not only am I dealing with personal issues but his behavior affected me at work and I even had to schedule an all-company meeting.

It all started when I found this in the Cutest Tail contest.


I recognized that tail immediately, and there is nothing “cute” about it.

That’s the English, sneaking into the contest just like he sneaks around corners and under Christmas trees and anywhere else he can squeeze himself.

If I’m not allowed to enter my photo, neither is he. Contests are not for anyone who works at the company “or their family members.” And that means everyone in the household, even if they don’t get along.

That is why I asked my agent to get everyone on the phone for an emergency meeting, to figure out our strategy for disqualifying the English. Get on the same page in case he goes to the media.

This whole thing was very embarrassing. Because it’s bringing my problems to work and I’d rather keep it all separate. And that’s very hard these days because my boyfriend’s lump is coming back.

That was hard to type.

My boyfriend is not a worrier. He says live for today and that’s why everyone likes him. He’s always in a good mood even though his shoulder keeps growing.

But my roommate is a worrier like me. She said, “This feels like a water balloon. Back to the vet with you, little man.”

Not sure what the vet said but we get extras of everything now. Oat hay, orchard medley, even alfalfa.

And my boyfriend is allowed out of the pen a lot more the past few days. The funny thing is, he doesn’t want to run around much. After one lap he just wants to relax on my rug.

So after I finish this blog, that’s my plan for the night. My boyfriend, a nice chew, and a half-nap on my rug.

And to tell you the truth, after all the drama this week, that’s exactly what I need.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda. Do you see this photo from the “Cutest Tail” contest?

Well this is NOT a cute tail. This is nothing but a cheating tail. This is THE ENGLISH’S TAIL, and he’s not allowed to enter.

I have called an all-company meeting to get to the bottom of this.

No pun intended as I am not in the mood for puns. 

If you want to see “cute,” look at my baby photo =>

Hello. It's Belinda.

It’s National Adopt a Rescued Rabbit Month and that means one thing. My roommate will get sentimental and talk about the first time she saw me at the shelter. Then she’ll pull out the baby photos.

She asked me if I would use one in my blog. I guess I feel sentimental too because I said yes.

But it’s so embarrassing.


That’s me at about five months old, in my shelter crate.

Because my records are back in New Zealand, I’m not sure what day I was born. We celebrate on April 22.

In fact, I’m not sure about much when it comes to my early days. I remember living outside for a while with some other rabbits. In the city, with the lights and noise and everything.

We had to make do, sleeping under cars and porches when we found good hiding spots. We took turns keeping watch for dogs and other trouble. I still dream about it.

I remember eating grass and other plants. Some of it tasted funny. And when I finally moved to the shelter, I had “bathroom problems” for a few weeks. So I’m careful now.

Well, my roommate doesn’t understand why I won’t try certain foods. Pumpkin and raspberries for example. She tells me my boyfriend, his companion and the English all like pumpkin and raspberries.

My question is this: Did they ever bite into dandelions and eat a bee by mistake or drink old water off the sidewalk? Not to be rude.

I’m glad they like pumpkin and raspberries and they are welcome to enjoy my share while I eat a few extra healthy snackers. Win-win.

And that kind of sums up how I feel about Adopt a Rescued Rabbit Month. It’s good for everyone. I wanted a place to live and my roommate wanted a “BWB.” Big white bunny.

I was a LWB but growing.

She tells me she loved me from the minute she saw me. And to tell you the truth I felt the same way.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It's Belinda.

I finally got feedback on my ideas for new products and I’m eating nonstop. Because they are not going to use my ideas, even though they like them. Which makes no sense.

So now my Christmas hay is almost gone and I don’t even care.

It all started when my agent invited me over for a “spa day.” Help me with my molt, do my nails. That sort the thing.

She even had a bag of strawberry rose healthy snackers waiting, which was nice.

Well, whenever I’m groomed, something weird happens in my mind. It goes in to two directions.

When she starts pulling off the tufts, all I can think is Belinda run. Run away and shake off that itchy trapped feeling.


But after a minute or two, I get so sleepy I can’t move my legs and I don’t want to.

It’s like when you’re digging the carpet behind the chair but afterwards, when your whole body is yawning, down your shoulders and back. And by the time I feel that stretching and yawning I’m in a half-nap and forget I’m at my agent’s house.

That’s the state of mind I was in when she sprung it on me.

“Belinda, we need to discuss your ideas for new products.”

Just like that. Nothing scheduled. No time to prepare.

She started talking about how the company “appreciated my input” and how my ideas “showed a lot of effort and creativity.” On and on while I waited for her to cut to the chase, if you know what I mean. So I could decide stay or go.

Then she said it. Told me my product ideas were “not practical.”

The Jumbo Bag of Dirt would cost too much to prepare and ship. So that’s out.

Then the “What’s My Breed?” Herbal Blend. Turns out they ran the numbers and getting the hay and flowers from New Zealand would also be “cost-prohibitive.” Something about tariffs and customs and airfare to Wellington. I sort of tuned her out at “numbers.” Not interested.

At this point I was done. If we were on a conference call I would hit buttons until I heard a beep and silence. But she moved on to the Edible Exercise Pen.

“Belinda, although the entire team thinks the idea would be very popular with rabbits, and they would certainly enjoy eating holes in the sides of the pens, that defeats the purpose of pens.”

So there you go.

This is what it’s like to work with humans. They say one thing and do the opposite.

They love your ideas but they aren’t going to use them. All because of numbers and purposes.

My agent told me to “go back to the drawing board” but for now I’m under the steps with the gourmet hay I got for Christmas. Don’t even want to share it with my boyfriend and his companion. I just want to sit here by myself and chew.

Because when I like something, I eat it. Not the opposite.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

I’m ready for the weekend. My roommate says we’re going to hang out and watch movies.

I hope I get to pick a few.

Speaking of … did you see my picks for new products? 




Hello. It's Belinda.

Two exciting pieces of news this week.

One, my roommate finally moved my boyfriend out of the “sick pen” in the kitchen and back to the bottom floor. Not a moment too soon either.

He wasn’t really sick anyway. When you go to the vet and come home without a lump, that should be the end of it. My boyfriend was eating and running around fine. His companion kept the stitches clean. Unless you noticed the missing fur and all the metal you wouldn’t know he had surgery.

But my roommate is a worrier. “Let’s make sure your staples are OK, little man.” Poking his shoulder day and night.

Well, with running back and forth to visit him and sleeping by his pen, I got behind at work. Not the best time for that because I had a big presentation this week.


That’s the second piece of big news. I was asked to come up with ideas for new products. Something fresh for 2018.


I guess it got back to management that I’m more than window dressing. Hard to ignore the record-breaking sales my “Belinda Bundle” earned last month. Numbers don’t lie.

So this was my big chance and with everything going on I kept getting sidetracked. Next thing you know my agent was bugging me to send the report so she could review it before the company conference call.  

But the more she pressured me the more I froze in my tracks. Felt like something was swooping down at me.

I ended up getting everything to her a few minutes before everyone dialed in. Then she did the honors of presenting my ideas for three new products while I listened in. I was a wreck, if you want to know the truth. But let’s just say I think the team sees me differently now.

I probably shouldn’t leak these ideas, but on the other hand it’s good to get some “buzz” going.

So take a look and get ready to add the following to your rabbit’s stash this year.

Jumbo Bag of Dirt

Do your rabbits pull up the carpet? Our exclusive Jumbo Bag of Dirt is the perfect reward for their hard work. Each 90-pound bag is hand-packed by our farmer partners throughout the great state of Washington. Kiln-dried and sifted. Eco-friendly; simply dump outside after indoor use. Three bags fills one standard bathtub.

“What’s My Breed?” Herbal Blend

They said it couldn’t be done but they were wrong. Now, your rabbit can have a mix of flowers and herbs imported from their homeland. Starting with New Zealand White Blend, which is a secret recipe featuring Taranaki alfalfa hay and pear blueberry healthy snackers.   

Edible Exercise Pen

Rabbits confined to an exercise pen, such as after lump surgery, need something to do. Some will rattle the bars with their teeth or push the pen with their shoulders, which is not good for their staples in my opinion. Keep your rabbit entertained and safe with an Edible Exercise Pen. Made from Kentucky apple branches and twigs, these pens are hand-crafted by Josh from the warehouse. No glues.

Well, after my agent read these to the team, nobody said anything for about a minute. That tells you something right there.

Then I heard coughing and someone else made a sneezing noise. Suddenly my agent said the teapot was whistling and she had to go. Which was odd. Then I heard a beep and nothing else so I guess the call was over.

I’ll get the hang of these conference calls. In the meantime, I’m using my mind for something fun instead of just worrying about my boyfriend. He’s going to love the apple pen.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Since one of my housemates is having medical issues, I’m in a bind.

I’m trying to help. But I’m also trying to stay out of the way.

Mostly I try to look like I’m busy eating hay. No matter what’s going on, you can start eating hay and nobody will say boo.


That’s one reason it’s my #1 resolution =>

Hello. It's Belinda.

I was going to write about some big news. Products and special events that will be coming over the next month or so. Some of it my idea.

But I can’t focus and here’s why: Something happened to my boyfriend.

A few weeks ago, my roommate came downstairs and caught us running around loose. She told him to stop and he did. I did too.

I thought he was in trouble for escaping the pen but it was a lot worse.

I waited behind the storage shelves to see what would happen. Meanwhile my boyfriend was standing in the corner by my sleeping rug. Sort of in the shadows which is good for sleeping.


My roommate squinted at him and her mouth was open. Then she said, “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

That was how it all started. One minute you’re running around with your friend and the next minute you’re watching him pretend his shoulder is flat while the human is pushing her fingers in and watching his face.

I knew he had a lump but he didn’t seem to care. So I didn’t say anything. Not my place.

But my roommate likes to scratch our ears and shoulders and I always thought part of that whole routine was checking for scratches or bumps. That sounds like I’m blaming her and I’m just mad at the whole situation. Because my boyfriend had to go to the vet for surgery. His companion went too and I waited at home.

Before they left, my roommate said everything would be OK and gave me fresh hay. So I tried not to worry but I couldn’t help it. Mind jumping all over every time I looked at their pen at they weren’t in it.

What if he had to take medicine and it tasted funny? That happened to me last year. What if he didn’t want to eat? That also happened to me, that’s how sick I was. My roommate squirted food into my mouth and that was the worst argument we ever had. My boyfriend’s not a fighter but when you don’t want to eat you fight.

I worried that his shoulder would hurt. Or that he wouldn’t be able to push himself out of the pen so we could run.

And what if he was scared? He is always cheerful which is why everyone likes him. But a visit to the vet can change a rabbit.

When he came back home the lump was gone and so was a lot of his fur. His companion kept saying things like, “No, we’re not in the car anymore, we’re back home,” and “Nothing is biting you, those are stitches from the vet.”

My roommate set them up in the kitchen so she could see him while she’s “working” in the next room.

That’s been the worst part for me. I like things a certain way at home and I’m used to talking to my boyfriend on the bottom floor and doing laps when we can.

So I’ve been sleeping in the kitchen a lot, by his pen. A bit cramped but I need to be close by in case he needs something.  

He pushes his face through the bars and I know he has pen fever. Not sure why he has to stay in there now. He’s eating and walking around just fine.

The Gordons let me take some time off to take care of things here. But I’m ready for my boyfriend to get back downstairs so I can get back to work. I want to put all of this behind us.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Someone here at home is sick and I’m worried. 

I have to help out and be available in case they need help or just some company. 

Mr. Gordon is being very kind about letting me take some time out of
the office. 

If I can’t get back to you right away, that’s why. 

Thank you.

-- Belinda



Hello. It's Belinda.

It was so cold all week and that means two things.

One, I keep thinking about the days I lived outdoors, loose in the city. I was rescued before the weather got cold but I still had to fend for myself. Deal with the heat and noise and looking for water and sleeping under cars.

So I’m not proud of what comes next.

A few times this week I felt a cold draft while I was walking past the basement door. And I got annoyed about it.

Then I think Belinda. I thump at myself, that’s how guilty I feel. My roommate hears and says “Now what? What are you thumping about?”

That’s the second thing about this weather. My roommate is home even more than normal. If she had a job it would be OK but instead she roams through the house fussing.


“Belinda, did you come up with some more resolutions?” Every day she reminds me until it isn’t reminding but nagging.

I know my resolution to eat more hay was not enough. Not to be rude but when you give a rabbit five boxes of hay for Christmas that is where the mind goes.

The thing is, I can’t think with this weather. Too cold. I think we could move resolutions to May or June and nobody would notice.

The funny thing is while I couldn’t think of any for myself, I have lots of ideas for everyone else. I don’t know yet if I will share these but it’s good to write them down just in case.

New Year’s Resolutions (2018)


Leave the house every day.

Stretch goal: Find a new home for the English.


Escape the exercise pen and visit me every day.  

Stretch goal: When I want to nap, return to your pen within one minute.

Boyfriend’s companion

Stop staring at me.

Stretch goal: Keep my boyfriend in the pen when I want to nap.

The English

Stay on the top floor.

Stretch goal: Move out.

My agent

Give me the password to the company email.

Stretch goal: Give me the company credit card.

The hard thing is stopping at two for each. The good news is I can make suggestions like this all year long.

In fact, I think I have just come up with my own stretch goal.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

I have a question. What is your New Year’s resolution?

Mine is to eat more hay. My roommate says that’s good but I need more than one.

Well, I am out of ideas. Hoping to find some inspiration here, if you know what I mean.

So far this week I ate 11 extra servings of alfalfa. Don’t tell you-know-who but I found out where she hid the box.

Thank you for your help.

-- Belinda


PS: Did you read about my Christmas surprises? Here’s the link to my blog =>


Hello. It’s Belinda.

I don’t even know where to begin re: Christmas. It was even better than I hoped.

First of all, my roommate went all out gift-wise. Loaded us up with hay and treats and chew toys. I don’t even care if the English has gourmet hay medley in his room. I have two bags and for once I’m not keeping score.

Not sure where my roommate hid everything before Christmas Eve but I’m wondering if Josh from the warehouse was part of it. In cahoots. Sending healthy snackers and honeysuckle rings in boxes with fake labels. “Paper towels inside” and “furnace filters—not for rabbits.” To throw us off the trail.

Speaking of trail, big news: I got a home DNA testing kit. It was the only thing I wanted for Christmas and I am going to figure out this whole New Zealand mystery once and for all.


Been bugging me ever since I found out the shelter put that on my paperwork. “New Zealand White.” Even though I was found running loose in the city and I don’t mean Auckland.

What does the shelter know about my past? How did they find out? I moved in here before I got the whole story and now it’s a dead end.

My roommate says “we’ll see what Watson and Crick can tell us,” whatever that means. Just want to know how I got to the United States, if I have unfinished business back in NZ, that sort of thing. Family looking for me or unclaimed property.

As if all that wasn’t enough, I got a surprise gift from my friend Bella. She lives in California and she sent a box to me and my roommate hid it until Christmas morning. I am not even mad about her getting into my mail.

There are two reasons this got to me. First, Bella has head tilt and even with all that going on she made time to send me a gift. Second, I didn’t get her anything and that feels like you scratched one ear but not the other. So I’m working on this and I’ll write about her gift and the rest once I figure it all out.

Speaking of giving gifts to others, I wanted to get my roommate something but I hit a snag. I haven’t been paid yet. And ever since the incident with the Belinda Bundle orders she won’t let me near her laptop.

So I asked my agent to buy something and put it on my tab. I told her to use her judgement and this is what she ordered:

Not what I would have picked but when my roommate opened it she laughed and said she loved it. She kept looking at it and laughing. I don’t get the joke but I pretended to since it’s the holidays.

I’m still feeling pretty lazy, to tell you the truth. I’m supposed to be working on my New Year’s resolutions but maybe tomorrow.

Plan to skip the half-nap today and go right from breakfast to a full flop. Need to rest up for tonight. My boyfriend, his companion and I will be sharing a bag of gourmet hay medley while we’re “waiting for the bale to drop,” as they say.

Happy New Year!



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

The Night Before Christmas

by Belinda

Twas the night before Christmas and I couldn’t sleep

though the whole house was calm. No one making a peep.

The gifts were piled, big and small, under the tree

for my boyfriend, his companion, the English and me.

Every 10 or so minutes I would wake from my napping

to wonder anew what was under the wrapping.


When suddenly—overhead—I heard a board creak.

And I thought: hold the hoe. But I didn’t dare speak.

So I crept up the steps to the kitchen to see

‘round the corner toward the gifts that were waiting for me.

And what to my wondering eyes did appear

but a sly Christmas thief with spots on his rear.

The English! First burrowing under the pine,

then tearing through wrapping on gifts that were mine!

They should have been hidden up on a high shelf.

But they weren’t. And I thumped in spite of myself.

He heard me. I chased him. The next part’s a blur.

There were ornaments broken. Pine needles in fur.

And then all at once there arose such a clatter

we both stopped in our tracks to see what was the matter.

Our roommate! Banging a lid with a spoon.

We braked our wild chase not a moment too soon.

Her cheeks were like peppers. Her hair wild on her head.

She spoke first to the English: “Get back upstairs to bed.”

Of all nights to deal with my roommate’s disdain.

She was too mad to give me a chance to explain.

It’s not as though trashing the house is my habit.

I behave myself since I became a spokesrabbit.

Also—trouble I’m in once the workday is through

should not be a part of my performance review.

These were my thoughts as she looked at the tree,

at the torn wrapping paper, then finally at me.

“Belinda,” she said. “What on earth was I thinking?

Wrapped-up treats on the floor!” She stood there, not blinking.

Then St. Nick must have flown past. I say this because

she burst into laughter. She became Santa Claus.

“Go to bed, you bad bunny,” she said, no longer miffed.

My roommate forgave me—and that was my best gift.

She left the room. Climbed the stairs. Turned off the light.

And I tried but I couldn’t sleep. Pacing all night.

“Wrapped-up treats” as she put it. Treats under the tree.

That means healthy snackers. Very tempting to me.

She gives me one and no matter how much I nag

that’s it for the day. I could eat the whole bag.

So while “go to bed” was less a “good night” than a warning,

I was found asleep under the tree the next morning.

Merry Christmas!



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

Today is my second-most exciting day on the job.

I took a big risk and it paid off. The company is using one of my ideas on the holiday calendar today.

That’s right. As I mentioned last week, the special bundle for Day 10 is brought to you by yours truly.

I can’t believe it.

So why is this so risky? Because ever since my roommate warned me I’m probably due for a performance review, I’ve been trying to lay low. I figure if I just quietly do my job, they’ll forget about it. Whole thing will blow over.


But I couldn’t do it. Too restless.

The thing is, my job has been changing a lot lately. I’m asked to pose for more and more photos. Standing with props like I just happened to come upon a red sleigh or a pile of tissue paper.

“Act jolly, Belinda,” they tell me. “Pretend to wrap presents and we’ll make a video.”

That’s another thing—acting. I don’t have any training for that. I hear “stage left” and I don’t know where to go. End up blowing my cue and it feels just like Daylight Saving Time, humans taking time and space and flipping them every which way.

It confuses a rabbit and that’s what I am: A spokesrabbit. Not a spokes “model.”

Nothing wrong with standing in the same position for 15 minutes or pretending I’m merry. I can play along. Just not my strength.

And though I’m really not sure what my job is, I want to be judged by my ideas. I know what rabbits like.

I said that speaking as a rabbit, my expert opinion is that Josh needs to rent a second warehouse to stock up for this bundle. That’s how high the demand will be.

And now it’s time to “put the hoe to the row,” if you know what I mean.

If my bundle is a hit today, I can stop worrying about this performance review business.

If it’s not a big seller, I guess I’ll take the company car and head to Kentucky. To help Josh in the second warehouse.

Because helping J. is my other strength, as I proved on Saturday, Oct. 14, 2017, otherwise known as Midwest BunFest.

Which was my most exciting day on this job.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Belinda has a big favor to ask. 

Please set a reminder to check our holiday calendar this Sunday—Dec. 10.

Day 10 is Belinda’s day. She wants to make sure you see her big idea.

“I know what rabbits like. This will prove it,” she says.


Hello. It’s Belinda.

Today is a big deal for me.

It’s my three-month anniversary of working as a spokesrabbit.

I don’t want to brag, but there are many perks to this job. And the best is being able to work from home.

The thing is, I’m crepuscular. I work best at dawn and dusk. Last thing I need is the boss showing up in my doorway at 11 a.m. or 3 p.m. and I’m under the desk asleep.

So I figured if I made it to three months I’m home free. “Over the garden and under the fence,” if you know what I mean.


But according to my roommate I will probably have a performance review soon.

She says things like that out of nowhere. Like when she’s filling my water bowl or folding towels. Then she just smiles and goes back to the water or towels like it never happened.

So no way to tell if this performance review comment is a warning to shape up or just another bad joke.

What I do know is for the past week I couldn’t focus on anything. Kept wondering when I would get “the call.”

Also wondered just exactly what I would be judged on. Here’s my opinion: If it has anything to do with the sales the company has made since I started, there are two ways to look at it.

If sales are up, then I think I should be given credit.

If sales are down, it’s not my fault.

Either way, I have been coming up with ideas for new products and special bundles. Trying to tilt things in my favor. The team said yes to one and it’s part of the holiday calendar.

I can’t say anything else about it. But be sure to look at the calendar next week. Especially on Day 10. I’ll get in trouble if I give away any secrets so I’ll stop there. But one of the items on Day 10 rhymes with “balfalfa.”

All I can say is I hope it goes over big. Until then I’m not going to any meetings or taking calls. I’m just laying low in the home office.

Even there, I feel like I’m being watched all the time. That’s not good for anyone. But especially for a rabbit.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

Thanksgiving came and went without any trouble. Turns out I was not expected to do anything except relax and eat. Which I did, and not at home either.

My roommate went away so I spent the holiday with my agent. That might seem odd but we were friends before she became my representative. They say keep work at work but I’m a spokesrabbit. In this field I make my own path, if you know what I mean.

Not sure what the humans had to eat but around five o’clock, my agent woke me up and said dinner is served. She lowered a large tray to the floor and as soon as I saw what was on it I was wide awake. And not in a good way.

Four types of hay. Six different leafy greens. Three herbal blends. All topped with a limited-edition holiday cranberry snacker.


I stood up in a panic, looking around the room for the other rabbits. With this much food, there had to be four or five rabbits in the hall or coming down the stairs.  

But I was wrong.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Belinda,” said my agent. “I am very grateful for you and all of your help the past three months.”

Then she walked out of the room.

For the next four hours, I could hear talking and dishes clinking and laughing while I ate my salad. I had to keep taking breaks.

Eventually I nodded off and when I woke it was after midnight. All of the lights were on, including the ones in the hallway. Which was strange.

Then my agent walked past the doorway in a hurry. She was on the phone and carrying her laptop with her other hand.

“But tell me the cost per click,” she said. I could hear her in the kitchen. She kept talking about click this and click that.

Then I heard her coming back. She stopped and smiled at me and her eyes looked funny. Like she couldn’t blink. She was wearing pajamas.

“The big day has begun, Belinda. Black Friday!”

She stood there with her eyes open.

Obviously, I was expected to get to work, but I had no idea what to do.

So when she sat on the couch with her papers and laptop, I jumped up beside her. I figured I could help review the sales numbers and check links to the website, that sort of thing.

We worked side-by-side the rest of the night, unless she was on a call. A few times I could tell she was talking to Josh from the warehouse and I pretended to not care.

I kept falling asleep even with all the lights in my eyes. Even so, I thought I was doing a good job with the spreadsheets and such. Catching on.

I started thinking how I could help at the warehouse during the holiday rush. I may not have experience but I can be trained. The entire company underestimates me in my opinion.

So when my agent was out of the room for a minute, I switched the screen to the company email. I was answering a customer question about overseas shipping when she returned and told me to “stay away from that laptop.”

I spent the rest of Black Friday working on recipes in the other room. My first  uses four types of hay, six types of greens and some top-secret ingredients.

It’s perfect for a holiday and I call it the Spokesrabbit Salad.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

“I found this in my office,” says our spokesrabbit. “Am I supposed to ride in it?”

No, Belinda. But it’s a great day to fill that sleigh. Our Black Friday special is 15% off everything.



Don’t tell Belinda where we hid the pear blueberry healthy snackers. Instead of working, she’s searching all over the house. 

(We hid them in her office.) 



Hello. It’s Belinda.

Thanksgiving is five days away and there’s too much going on.

For one thing, this is my first time working in retail during the holidays. All I hear is Black Friday this and Cyber Monday that and “Where’s the sleigh prop?”

It would help if someone would explain this whole Black Friday business. First of all, which Friday? Will it be dark all day or for just a few minutes?

Sounds like the eclipse back in August, which I heard about nonstop. But this has something to do with big sales on hay and snacks, not with the sun snuffing out.


And that’s just the half of it. It’s been like this for weeks, everyone running around, trying to get things ready. Taking photos day and night, asking me to “look merry” and pose with bows and little plates of herbs. I just want to relax and enjoy the holidays.

But that isn’t on the menu because get this: I have to host Thanksgiving.

Not my idea. My roommate breezed past me a few days ago and said, “Well, Belinda, are you all ready for the big day?”

Then she left the room. Didn’t explain anything but it can only mean one thing.

Now that I’m the main provider I’m expected to step up and do my part.

Not sure what the roommate is bringing in salary-wise and that’s none of my business. But this house is full of hay, pellets, healthy snackers, herbal blends, chew toys, supplies and even a few necklaces for humans that were shipped and delivered to “Belinda, Spokesrabbit.”

My roommate might hide the boxes from me. But at the end of the day, I’m the one bringing home the hay, if you know what I mean.

I don’t even know who’s coming, meaning rabbits. Could be just the four of us—me, my boyfriend, his companion and the English rabbit, who is welcome to enjoy his meal alone on the top floor.

Or maybe the rabbits from the shelter will be put on a shuttle. I don’t mind sharing my stash but now I’m supposed to create an entire holiday menu and worry about allergies and special diets.

As far as I’m concerned, we can eat “family style.” Throw a few types of hay on the table, add romaine, bok choy and such, top off with some side plates of herbs and you’re done. It doesn’t have to be fancy.

I’m happy to share because, after all, I started at the shelter and I’m grateful for my home and my career. That’s the true meaning of Thanksgiving, not all this extra fussing.

That’s the problem with a holiday. It starts out seeming like a good idea and then it gets out of hand.

Good thing there’s nothing going on the next day.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

“Time for my half-nap.”

Actually, Belinda, it’s time for our weekly company meeting.

Did you help yourself to the Zen Tranquility herbs?



To honor the 20 Rescue Heroes finalists competing for $15,000 in awards, Belinda helped herself to a big pile of alfalfa.

“On behalf of all the animals saved when we were in a jam—thank you,” she said.


Congratulations to our finalists:

Alabama House Rabbit Society
Bun Bun Brigade
Bunny Besties
Bunny World Foundation
Columbus House Rabbit Society
Full Circle Farm Sanctuary
Georgia House Rabbit Society
House Rabbit Network
House Rabbit Society
House Rabbit Society of Chicago
Illinois Horse Rescue
L.A. Guinea Pig Rescue
Missouri House Rabbit Society
New Mexico House Rabbit Society
Our House of Hope
Rezdawg Rescue
Soul Dog Rescue
Southwest Florida Rabbit Rescue
Tranquility Trail

Be sure to vote! A total of $15,000 will be awarded to five winners.


Hello. It’s Belinda.

I apologize in advance if this email is late but I have no idea what time it is.

And as far as I can tell, doing things “in advance” is how they flipped the dish to begin with. Because how can you say I’m sorry for something that didn’t even happen yet?

This is all because of Daylight Savings Time. Mind running every which way. I don’t want to be negative but nothing good can come from setting clocks to different times.

I like a schedule. Breakfast, morning treat, first hay refresh, second refresh. And I have a little something called a j-o-b now and I have to get up on time.

This weekend all the humans talk about getting an extra hour of sleep. I woke up ready for pellets and had to wait. By the time my roommate showed up she could tell I was in a mood.


After breakfast I guess I still looked rattled because, out of nowhere, she brought me a little white plate with some herbs and flowers on it.

“Here, Belinda. Have some Zen Tranquility mix.” She put the plate on my rug.

“It will help you to feel calm.”

She was right about one thing—if you want to put me in a better mood, give me a snack. This was like a little salad of lemon balm and lavender and clover tops, that sort of thing. My nose was full of smells.

It’s supposed to help rabbits relax. I don’t know.

I stretched out and my roommate started working on my shoulders. I can’t reach my shoulders so it’s nice that she helps. She moved things around on my collar bone and behind my ears. I closed my eyes because suddenly I felt sleepy.

I wanted more of that Tranquility mix but the plate was clean. I guess I did that, ate all the herbs. The plate was like a clock without any hands because time is wiped clean now.

“You’re a good girl,” my roommate said. Then she said I was melting into the floor.

Ice cubes melt into the floor not spokesrabbits. I couldn’t tell what was real and what was just her making up nonsense like this “extra hour” business. If morning happens twice I get another breakfast and herbs.

Rabbits know about time. Just look at the House Rabbit Society. The logo. Everywhere you look there are rabbits and clocks.

That’s why the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland was in a panic. “I’m late, I’m late.” Clocks all around, humans turning the hands willy-nilly, backward and forward.

Hard to know what “late” means when clocks are dripping over tree limbs like me melting into the floor with my shoulders and the plate.

“Belinda,” my roommate said.

I opened my eyes. Something had happened. The light was different.

She was standing across the room, looking at me. My boyfriend was looking at me from inside his pen. So was his companion.

“You’ve been sleeping for hours. It’s time for a snack.”

She was holding a pear blueberry healthy snacker. She put it on the floor for me and waited.

Now this makes sense. Snacker time. No math. Only one thing I had to do.

Spring forward.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

“Is Jessica still mad at me?”

Belinda, we asked Jessica for you. She said you should “send an email and ask her directly.”

Uh-oh. We think that means yes.



Hello. It’s Belinda.

So, about a month ago I squeezed behind the dryer. Just to see what was back there.

About 10 minutes later I ran past my roommate and she said stop.

“Look at your whiskers. Were you behind the dryer?”

She made me stand still while she pulled all the cobwebs off my head. I wanted to see what it looked like but she was too fast.

But it got me thinking—about Halloween. What I could do for a costume.

To tell the truth, I’ve never cared much for the whole thing. People wandering around dressed like bats and such. Jumping out from behind furniture. Strangers knocking all night long, demanding treats. Whose treats?


But that was then. Now that I’m a spokesrabbit, I assume I’m required to work the door.

Not sure what to hand out but the pear blueberry healthy snackers are off the menu. Same for the apple healthy snackers and the rest.

And I shouldn’t even have to say it but the fancy fruited pine cone chews are for date night, not for passing out to the general public.

The reality is, most of the treats that Josh sent to me for my adoptaversary last month are gone, thanks to my roommate’s “trick” of giving them to every rabbit in the house. Don’t mind sharing with my boyfriend and his companion. But the English rabbit on the top floor doesn’t need any treats in my opinion.

Anyway, there’s plenty of alfalfa, since I’m not allowed to touch it. So we will probably just stuff a few handfuls into fun-size bags.

The bigger pickle has been the costume. But I think I have it figured out, even if others aren’t fans. 

About a week after the cobweb incident, my agent groomed me. I held extra still and when some of the fur floated onto my head, I left it there.

Costume accomplished. I’m a Lionhead.

First chance I got, I ran and stood outside my boyfriend’s pen. He was sleeping.

“Boo!” I said.

He opened his eyes and stared at me. He looked at me for the longest time, like he didn’t know what to say.

I started to wonder if I’d gone too far. If he had the dates mixed up and thought a strange Lionhead had snuck in the door during Trick or Treat.

“It’s me,” I said.



“You’d better stop going behind the dryer.”



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Our spokesrabbit gives a nose bump to remind you – we’re awarding $15,000 to five rescues. 

Nominate your favorite rescue no later than TUESDAY, OCT. 31.


Belinda worries she won’t be around to congratulate the winners. 

Here’s why:


Hello. It’s Belinda.

If you’re reading this, it means I still have a job.

Why wouldn’t I, you ask? Because of something I got into at work. I may have crossed a line.

It all started last Saturday, at Midwest BunFest. We were cleaning up our booth after the event and Josh was fiddling with his laptop.

“Wuuf,” he said, but he meant Wolf. “What’s the new whatchamacallit for the email?”

She said a bunch of numbers and letters. Then she said them again. Josh hit some keys and said that works.

And I thought: Hold the hoe.


Did I just overhear the password for the company email?

It was none of my business. I’m not supposed to send emails out to customers, not even to say hi. I write this Sunday blog on the website and Wolf emails the link to everyone. Not my job.

So I tried to forget about it. But every time I nodded off and woke up, I thought about those numbers and letters.

Then came the big blow up on Monday. It was brought to my attention that I was not invited to the House Rabbit Society conference. Wolf, the brand manager, and Jessica, the customer service representative, were invited and they’re at the conference now. In San Diego. Representing Small Pet Select.

But Belinda, the spokesrabbit? Nope. Just leave me behind with nothing to do. Bored out of my mind and usually that means carpet is coming up but not this time.

I typed in the password and it worked. I clicked around and next thing you know I hacked into the Top 10 Cuties email.

Jessica puts that email together every week, collecting the photos and stories about rabbits, guinea pigs and chinchillas. She does a very good job but I have a different idea about which rabbits are the cutest in the country.

I assume she was too busy yesterday at the HRS conference to see how I fixed her email. But I hope Daisy, Emmy, Morgan, Tibbar and that tall rabbit saw it.

And since this might be my last blog post, I need to say something important.

Small Pet Select is giving away $15,000.

I saw it when I was snooping around in the files.

The money is going to rescues, like the one that saved me when I was living outside in the city. You can nominate your favorite rescue to get some of this money.

A large rescue will get $5,000. An chapter of a large organization, one independent rescue, and two therapy programs will each get $2,500.

You have to get the form done by Tuesday, October 31. It sounds pretty easy to me for such a big stash.

I wish I could nominate the rescue that helped me. But I’m not allowed because I’m an employee of Small Pet Select.

At least for now.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Belinda is very unhappy with us.

We told her she did an excellent job staffing our Midwest BunFest booth.

So she assumed she would join colleagues Wolf and Jessica at the House Rabbit Society conference in San Diego this coming weekend. 

“There’s still time to buy a plane ticket,” she says.

Belinda—you’ve earned some time off!


Read about her BIG BunFest weekend here:


Hello. It’s Belinda.

I guess by now it’s all over the internet. What happened at BunFest.

But in case you haven’t seen the videos, I spent the day working the Small Pet Select booth with Josh from the warehouse.

I know.

I’m still in a fog from that and being off my schedule and eating too much and other things. But yesterday was perfect, minus the nonsense from my roommate on the ride home.

Turns out Midwest BunFest is not outdoors, like I expected. It’s indoors and they don’t let the rabbits run around loose. They’re wheeled around like I was in my Belindamobile or carried. Sort of an all-day parade but random.


But I was there to work, not wander around visiting. So mostly I stayed at the Small Pet Select booth, which was really just tables lined up covered with boxes of hay and treats and toys.

Sounds like mayhem but it wasn’t. If you had a booth, you stayed on one side, with your stash, and the other humans didn’t dare cross over. No humans got into a fight all day so this table setup did the trick.

Same with the rabbits. I even met a few English rabbits and, unlike the one at home, they knew to stay back. It’s a shame the one who needed to see that spent the day in the petsitter’s basement.

Best of all, no one asked for my credentials. Plenty of Lionheads stopped by the booth and I did not hear one word about how a fluffy breed would be a better spokesrabbit. And nobody laughed and said I’m as big as their dog. At BunFest you don’t say things like that because, if you do, you turn around and 10 rabbits are giving you the skunk eye.

So back to business.

What did J. and I do all day? Said hi to rabbits from all over the country. Passed out sample bags of Vitalicious, Flower Power Berry Boost and Heavenly Green Crunch. Hay samples too. Basically had each other’s back.

Speaking of back, every time my roommate was distracted, Josh slipped a pinch of alfalfa to me.

“Here you go, B’linda,” he kept saying. That’s how they say my name in his part of the country. Their words are missing letters and slower.

When he saw me eyeing up the herbal blends, he opened one under the table and let me have the entire bag.

Hours and hours of this sort of thing at the booth. Of course I wanted to stay all day but my shift ended at noon. And to be honest, that was plenty. I was exhausted but not Josh.

In fact, when he realized I was leaving, he stopped everything he was doing and sang to me. That’s right, in the middle of Midwest BunFest, with humans staring at him and rabbits staring at me, Josh from the warehouse sang a song.  Something about “Hay baby.”

If I had a normal life the story would end there. You would see everyone smiling and clapping. My roommate loading me into the Belindamobile and steering me through the big room and out of BunFest. It would end on a high note.

But not with you-know-who. She’s not happy until she finds a way to “frost the crops.”

On the way home, she said it was smart for Josh to find a “gimmick” to bring people to the booth. I thought she meant the free samples but she meant the song. My song!

“And by the way, Belinda, you need to start working on reviews for all the products he sent last month.”

But those boxes of hay and healthy snackers and chew balls were gifts. Not work assignments. They are gifts from Josh, sent straight from the warehouse.

I tuned her out. She went on about UPC codes and cost per click and I don’t know what else.

But I had the last laugh.

When we got home, she was lifting the Belindamobile out of the trunk and when she turned it sideways to shake out the hay, seven bags of Vitalicious fell out.

Or should I say, “Vit’licious.”



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

Hello. It’s Belinda.

Midwest BunFest is in six days and I am not ready. I am not ready at all.

I am “working the booth.” Josh from the warehouse will be there. I’m not sure where I’m sleeping. And my hair is flat.

Thanks to all of the above, I have been unable to focus all week.

Instead of helping me to pack or practice my lines, my roommate keeps nagging.

“Why do you keep hanging out by the front door?”

“For the last time, stay away from that alfalfa box!”

The thing is, the FedEx truck comes willy-nilly. I like surprises but not when I’m waiting for a box from somewhere or someone, nothing in particular but you never know. It doesn’t hurt to look out the door.


As for the alfalfa, my nerves are shot from worrying about Midwest BunFest and I need a mood hay. There’s a time for a nice legume and this is it.

You might wonder, “What’s to worry about?”


The crowds.

My roommate says rabbit rescues from all over the country travel to Midwest BunFest. I assume they bring their adoptable rabbits with them. Hundreds of them. So I guess BunFest is an outdoor festival with camping and activities.

I don’t want to be a pessimist, but how can 500 to 1,000 rabbits spend the weekend running around loose without causing complete mayhem? I don’t want to get caught up in that. 

Working the booth.

I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do at the Small Pet Select booth. But I can help Josh from the warehouse with whatever he needs.

The others can walk around the campground with hay samples or snacker bags. No reason to stay with me and J.

Also, I haven’t seen the schedule. I can be flexible, but I need time for breakfast 1, breakfast 2, pre-lunch and three half-naps. Plus I need to be back at the hotel for my afternoon full-nap.


First of all, getting to Columbus. I suppose they’ll send a company car for me.


My roommate says I’m staying at the hotel. But which hotel? Do I have my own room? Are there dryers for me to sleep behind?

No answers. So I’m bringing my own pen, several pounds of pellets and a salad cooler.

And although I am representing the company and have to be friendly, I do not want any festival rabbits in my room.

My hair.

From the minute I found out about BunFest, my Lionhead issues have been back.

I’ll be meeting rabbits from all over. What if they ask how I got this job? Even if they don’t say it, I’ll know what they mean: I’m not fancy.

Meanwhile, my autumn molt started last week. So I decided to let it go. Drove me crazy to have tufts everywhere but I thought I needed the fullness.

Well, my agent said the company doesn’t want me “shedding all over the booth.” So I could either wear a hairnet or let her groom me. I am not wearing a hairnet, so now I’m flat again.

When the festival rabbits come to the booth covered in mud and grass stains, I will just hold my head high. I may be plain, but I know my timothy. I may ride around in a limo, but I’m still a rabbit.

Josh from the warehouse.

My roommate said that Josh will be “loading up his truck” with hay, healthy snackers, herb mixes and all the rest.

I don’t care about any of that. Plus that’s for the camping rabbits.

What do I want? I just want Josh to see me as more than just a spokesrabbit.

And after BunFest, when he is back at the warehouse, I want him to tell the others,

“You know, that Belinda. She’s one of us. I couldn’t do the booth without her.

And she’s down to earth, but in a good way—not tearing up the hotel landscaping like the festival rabbits.”

I want him to think of me every time he unloads a bale of alfalfa.

And if he wants to ship some to me, even in an unmarked tube or envelope stamped “magazines inside,” that would be fine.

Speaking of deliveries and alfalfa, I have something I need to do.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select


TO: My Roommate
FROM: Belinda, Spokesrabbit
RE: Empty Hay Manger

Please be advised that the hay manger sent to me by Josh from the warehouse is empty.

I look forward to your immediate attention to this matter, preferably from the hay sampler box.


As a reminder, Josh shipped three boxes to me for my party:


Hello. It’s Belinda.

How many pear blueberry healthy snackers can a rabbit eat before passing out?

I have no idea. But I was working on the answer when my roommate suddenly burst into the room.

“Big news!” she said. “You’ll be working at Midwest BunFest.”

Then she reached down and took the bag of healthy snackers away. Even though I’m the one who found them on the table.

And even though Josh from the warehouse sent them to me—not her—for my adoptaversary last week.


So I had nothing to chew while I worried about this “working at BunFest” business.

First off, what exactly is Midwest BunFest? Sounded like some sort of festival in a hayfield. I prefer to be indoors but I can be a team player for a special event.

Then the bigger question: Working on what? As of this week, I am one month into this spokesrabbit job. I am still learning how to use email and now this.

Eventually she told me I would be helping at the Small Pet Select booth. That people from all over the country would stop by to say hi and look at our herb mixes and toys and different hays. Sounded easy enough.

Then she “crashed the tractor,” if you know what I mean.

She told me Josh would be there.


The truth of the matter is, I have been thinking about Josh from the warehouse all week.

Every time I move the barricades and search the first floor for the big pile of gifts he sent to me, I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. With this job and with Josh.

I wonder, what sort of person makes the time to select nine different types of hay and ship them halfway across the country to a rabbit he’s never met?

What sort of person hand-packs willow and twine balls and fancy pine cones into a huge box with so much care that they travel five states and don’t get smashed?

Josh from the warehouse, that’s who.

All week, instead of working, I was wondering about him. And distracted by the thought of these toys and treats hidden all over the house.

And what I really wanted was to get into the alfalfa hay. My roommate put it on the floor and stacked five hay boxes on top. I can try to chew my way in but not with her watching.

I’m not allowed to have alfalfa because it’s “too rich” in her opinion.

“Leave that alone,” she says. “That’s for sick bunnies, or for special occasions.”

Well, my adoptaversary is a special occasion.

So is one month on the job.

And being chosen to work at BunFest.

And falling in love.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

“Is that the FedEx truck?”

Belinda cannot sit still. She heard that Josh from the warehouse shipped a HUGE surprise to her, just in time for her special party.


What’s the celebration? Read all about it Sunday when Belinda Says Hay. 

If you missed her office drama, take a peek:


Hello. It’s Belinda.

Today is a special day here at home. It’s my adoption anniversary.

Four years ago, I woke up at the shelter and had no idea what was coming. Meaning my roommate and my life here. She came to an adoption event and didn’t even want to meet other rabbits, just me.

Someday I will write about the shelter and how I lived outside before I was rescued. From the city streets, of all places, with lights on all the time so it’s hard for a rabbit to sleep.

But for now I want to talk about what happened after the shelter. Moving here with my roommate and all the others (foster rabbits, etc.)

You might wonder if I have my own room or office. Yes and no. I sleep in the bottom of the house and come up the steps to the kitchen when I hear the refrigerator door or bags.


But for now I want to talk about what happened after the shelter. Moving here with my roommate and all the others (foster rabbits, etc.)

You might wonder if I have my own room or office. Yes and no. I sleep in the bottom of the house and come up the steps to the kitchen when I hear the refrigerator door or bags.

There is an English rabbit who lives here but I don’t associate with him. He stays on the top floor mostly, which used to be mine. He also comes down the steps to the TV room but my roommate put fences up so I can’t get in there and to tell you the truth—that’s fine. I have nothing to say to him and vice versa.

Except for the business of my hay stash, which I left on the top floor. My roommate didn’t tell me she was switching us all around because of foster rabbits moving in. I ended up leaving the bedroom without my stash and I still think about it. Wondering if the English rabbit found it.

Back to my room. My boyfriend lives in the basement level too but they stay in a pen. If you wonder why I say “they” it’s because another rabbit lives with him. It’s complicated so I would rather talk about my party.

So, a few days ago, my roommate told me she had news for me.

“Josh from the warehouse is sending you a big box, Belinda.”

I almost wish she hadn’t said anything. Because I was supposed to be working and instead I kept thinking about that box. Wondering what was in it. Every time I woke up I thought I heard the front door and my roommate walking across the ceiling but heavier.

Finally it happened—except there were three boxes.

I watched her unpack them. I simply could not believe it. Josh sent everything.

First-, second- and third-cut timothy. Alfalfa. Oat. Orchard medley. The hay sampler box with four different hays. Gourmet hay in the silver bag.

But also about 15 different snacks and herbal mixes. Hay mangers. Pellets. The apple wood hay feeder toy and the digging toy. A bag of litter and an extra-large litter box.

It was too much. I had to go downstairs for a chew.

Because to tell you the truth, when I remember that I used to sleep under cars and now I have all of this, it makes me want to dig the carpet. If I could work on the corner behind the chair for 10 minutes I would be fine.

You might think I can just order whatever I want because I’m the spokesrabbit. The thing is you have to have some money to click on items like the hay sampler or fancy fruited pine cone chews or the pear blueberry healthy snackers.

Well I don’t have money because I haven’t been paid yet. I think I get paid at the end of the year. In the meantime, I have never eaten so much in my life.

And if the English rabbit finds my hay stash, fine.

Because I have a new friend and his name is Josh.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

You have made our spokesrabbit very happy. Belinda is overwhelmed with all the wonderful messages she’s received via email and social media.

It was just what she needed this week, after her first experience with … office politics.

Read all about it Sunday when Belinda Says Hay.


Read her Lionhead confession here:


Hello. It’s Belinda.

Well there was some drama this week.

Last Sunday I mentioned that the Top 10 Cuties email is nothing but Lionheads.

It was brought to my attention—by my roommate of all people—that I shouldn’t say things like that. Because Jessica includes Rexes and Dutches and Harlequins and you name it in those emails.

She said I needed to be careful or I would get caught up in “office politics.”

“Besides, do these look like Lionheads?”


I had to admit that Lizzie, Max and Zane, Barbarella Queen of the Galaxy and Bernie not only made it into the Top 10 Cuties—they deserved it.

And if I have to free climb my roommate’s shoulder or learn to balance pinecones to make the cut, then I will do it.

To me it was settled and I was ready to move on. But my roommate kept bringing it up.

“You have to be a team player now,” she said. “If you’re upset about something at work, you can’t just thump until I wake up and turn all the lights on. You have to schedule a meeting.”

I don’t want to be rude, but I need to point something out: My roommate doesn’t seem to have a job.

She spends all day doing something on the computer and there’s nothing wrong with that. But I’m the one with deadlines and all these new rules to learn.

So how could she know about coworkers and good communication at the office?

“Just remember, Belinda,” she added. “There is no ‘B’ in team.”

Now that made no sense to me but I assume it’s another one of those “job truths” she heard somewhere. It may be a secret acronym.

For now, I am going to lay low until this thing blows over.

If there is one thing I know how to do, it’s lay low.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

“I’m not sleeping,” says Belinda. “I’m thinking.”

Our new spokesrabbit is still getting used to her schedule. 


Learn more about her first week on the job:


Hello. It’s Belinda.

Well, my first week as spokesrabbit for Small Pet Select was full of surprises.

First of all, I have an office and my name is on the door. I guess people are supposed to knock before they come in.

So I spent a lot of time napping under the desk with the door closed and no one said boo.

Also, I wasn’t sure what to wear. I like to come as I am. Turns out that’s fine too.

But what really got me is the comments on Facebook and the emails people sent. Everyone has been so friendly! After a few days, I started to feel I can actually do this job. I hope that doesn’t sound like bragging.

Because to be honest I still have some doubts and there is one reason and it’s a big one.

I’m afraid I’m not cute enough.


I probably shouldn’t admit this during my first week on the job, but every now and then I wish I could be a Lionhead.

Look at the Top 10 Cuties email. What do you see?

Lionhead, Lionhead, Lionhead.

My roommate has never sent my photo to Jessica for that email. I hate to let my mind run away like this but all I can think is my hair is too flat.

This all started back when I was at the shelter. Everything was pretty good there and then one afternoon something happened that I will never forget.

I was in my cage relaxing with some timothy. Two humans came into the room and they were looking into the cages.

After a bit, the woman appeared in front of mine. “Oh look, Jim, a New Zealand White,” she said.

I had to stop chewing to make sure I heard that correctly.

New Zealand?

“Jim” turned his head and saw me and the first thing he did was laugh.

“She’s bigger than my dog!” he said.

Then they moved across the room to Sophia, a Lionhead. They told her she was the cutest thing they had ever seen. They opened the cage even though you aren’t supposed to and the woman took photos of Sophia with her phone.

The next day, the woman came back and adopted Sophia. I was happy for her but I started to worry that I was too big. That maybe I should be in the part of the shelter where they keep the dogs.

Or that maybe I should try to look more like a Lionhead and less like a dog from New Zealand. Because if you go to the shelter to adopt a rabbit, do you expect to see a totally different species from halfway around the world in the rabbit room? No, you don’t.

Except if you are my roommate. She showed up one day and said I was exactly what she was hoping to find.

I mostly forgot all about this Lionhead business until this week. The new job and all the attention. “Bury once, dig up twice,” as they say.

The good news is my boyfriend doesn’t care. He’s always pushing his face through the exercise pen bars and telling me how nice I smell. I wake up sometimes and his chin is on my shoulder because he jumped the pen and he’s chattering in his sleep.

That is better than getting into the Top 10 Cuties but sometimes I still wish my hair had more body.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

We thought our new spokesrabbit would be happy to see the nameplate outside her office. Instead she took one look and ran under the desk.

“This puts a lot of pressure on me,” she said. “Seeing that door makes it real.”

We told her to just be herself. Then we realized -- that’s exactly what she’s doing.

Oh, Belinda. You make us laugh. ♥️


Find out why:


Belinda Says Hay: the BIG day is finally here! Introducing Belinda, our first spokesrabbit!

Hello. I’m Belinda.

I’m the first spokesrabbit for Small Pet Select.

I never thought I would have a job, but that just goes to show you. You don’t know what’s coming next. That can make you hide under the basement steps but it keeps life interesting.

“Keep your ears up,” as they say.

Why was I chosen? I’m not sure. I do like my hay and there’s “no pellet left behind,” if you know what I mean.

All I know is a few weeks ago, my roommate said out of the blue “Belinda! You’re going to have a job. For Small Pet Select. Isn’t that exciting?”

Then she walked away without explaining anything. She does that a lot, tells me something then walks away in a fidgety manner.

So I couldn’t help myself. I started to imagine all the ways it could go wrong.

What if I had to move in with the owners? I’m sure the Gordons are lovely but I have everything set up here the way I like it. Plus, my boyfriend is here and he has issues that I don’t want to get into (HIPAA laws).

What if they’re looking for big ideas for new products? I’m more paws-on. Give me a toy and a few hours and you’ll have your “review” all over the floor.

What if it’s a management job? I am not good with power. “If you want to find where your human hid the alfalfa hay, you have to climb on the table yourself.” I’ve said it a million times.

Then I told myself: Belinda. Calm down.

And I calmed down.

I said: Think of the possibilities. The chance to use your talents and passions.

So, over the next few days, I thought about all the jobs I could do well.

-- Hay inspector (alfalfa focus)

-- Climbing instructor

-- Motivational coach

-- Event greeter

-- Packaging assistant

-- Carpet de-installer

-- Massage therapy reviewer

-- Model

The last one might seem like I have an ego but my roommate takes photos of me day and night. All I do is turn my head to the right or left and she says, “Perfect! Excellent work!” I know my good angles and there is nothing egotistical about that if it’s your job.

But then I heard her on the phone. Telling someone that I’m a spokesrabbit starting Labor Day weekend. And that I’ll be sending out an email to everyone every Sunday.

I start to panic, thinking I’m supposed to write about all of the products and I haven’t even tried all of the herbal blends yet. This puts a lot of pressure on me and I’m busy enough with my boyfriend and trying to find where things are hidden around this house.

Then she says to whomever, “The emails won’t be about products as much as Belinda just telling stories.”

Now that is almost as bad. I will do my best but how can I “tell stories” when nothing ever happens here?

I guess except for the foster rabbits coming and going. And the drama I have with someone else in this house (no names but he’s English). And my boyfriend’s problems.

Also, now when my roommate comes into the room without warning and yells, “Belinda! How did you get over that barricade?” and “What are you doing with your head in the alfalfa box?” I will have a good answer.

I will just say I am doing my job.



Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select

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