Roman has been exhibiting some rather strange behaviour lately.

During one recent evening, for no apparent reason, he looked to have become petrified with fear. He would sit in his run, staring towards one corner of our front room.

We couldn’t work out what may have triggered this alarm. Claire even explored the area of the room where Roman had become transfixed, in the hope that we would discover something scary for bunnies which could be removed. We were unable to spot any toy farmers with shotguns, stuffed foxes, or copies of Jamie Oliver’s bestseller Cooking Pukka Tukka With Thumper.

Thankfully, Roman eventually settled down and has been calm ever since… for now.

He did once have a terrible nightmare, but as he has thankfully not appeared to have had another in almost two years, it is unlikely that he suffered another.

The only thing Claire and I can possibly think of which may have driven him loopy is toast…

Yes, toast. As in cooked bread. We gave Romy a tiny part of a slice a week ago. He devoured it and I mean DEVOURED! Think of the T-Rex in Jurassic Park eating the bloke off the toilet. The morsel of Hovis stood no chance.

It was lovely to see Roman enjoying this treat – especially after we withdrew his mango a couple of months ago. The only problem is that he appears to like toast too much…

His daily treats primarily consist of dried apple and dried carrot. He normally adores these small pleasures, and can often be seen skipping around his run whenever anyone goes near the ‘treat box’.

The ‘treat box’ is basically a large green box given to us by the local council, so we can recycle glass bottles and tin cans. As we already had one and this freebie from the local authorities looked very clean, we adopted it as a container for rabbit food, litter, hay etc… we justified this acquisition to ourselves by looking at our extortionate council tax bill!

Anyway… since getting a taste for “the T-Word” – the term Claire and I now use to identify t**st, as we believe Roman has learned the word – the bunny has lost nearly all interest in his apple and carrot treats.

Where he would once go crazy for a bit of dry sliced vegetable, he now picks at his food as if he is a little boy, wanting ice cream for pudding, but first being forced to finish a plate of nasty fish pie… this may or may not be a reference to my childhood.

T**st is very calorific, and while most of the population have gained some weight during ‘lockdown’, as responsible bunny parents, we’re not prepared to let our rabbit go the same way. Sorry, Roman – life’s not fair – get used to it.

Therefore, and much to Romy’s annoyance, he is only treated to the T-Word once every couple of days… sometimes less!

What the furry cherub doesn’t know, is that if he continues to pick at his food and get spooked for no reason, t**st may be off the menu altogether.