The term ‘Hop, Skip, Jump’ will no doubt bring back bad memories for anyone who was forced into taking P.E. lessons at school.

It will probably be a surprise to you all to learn that I am not referring to my latest exploits in the local gym.

This is another tale – or should that be tail? – about our loveable house rabbit, Roman.

Roman is a very sociable bunny. In his own way, he shows Claire and I affection, and we like to believe he loves his human parents. He is also keen on familiar visitors to our home – mainly my parents, as well as Claire’s mum and dad.

The poor furry cherub has been getting a bit confused lately. As we are respecting lockdown, the only visitors to our house have been our parents, and even they haven’t been able to get beyond the front door or garden!

While Roman would not have been able to see any visitors, he has certainly heard them – and recognises all their voices! Before lockdown, our parents would often visit, paying much attention to our house bunny – something the sociable creature truly loved.

When Claire and I went on our cruise last September, all our parents took care of him and ensured he was fed twice a day. You will have heard the saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” – you couldn’t be closer to the truth, were you to also apply this to Roman!

He has therefore become understandably confused and even unhappy by the fact these familiar voices are not coming to see him.

My mum dropped some carrot tops into our porch at the weekend. Roman became incredibly excited by the sound of her voice alone. He ran, jumped and skipped around his run in delight.

I think he became a bit over-excited, as he accidentally kicked his water bowl – the contents of which went all over him! If nothing else, this cooled him down, but he spent the next hour trying to tidy himself up and repair his damaged pride. Poor Roman!

IT ALL BECAME A LITTLE TOO MUCH FOR ROMY, WHO WAS FORCED TO HAVE A SIESTA.

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.

Yesterday afternoon, we treated Roman to a runaround. Suffice to say, I think he had fun…

I thought he was sweet enough!

My two loves.

“Alright, officer. I’ll return to my run immediately!”

I think Roman may be suffering from insomnia.

In recent nights, we have checked on him by using the webcam. Our bunny appears wide awake, but the cute, yet equally sad thing is, he sits in his cage staring at the wall.

He is intelligent enough to have worked out, that when he hears footsteps through the wall (the stairs are on the opposite side), Claire, myself, or both of us will appear through the door moments later.

Considering that this photo was captured shortly 11pm, and it is rare for him to be released into his exercise run before 8 in the morning, that’s a long night…