So, that competition I entered Roman into… he’s only gone and friggin’ won the thing!

How could you not love that sweet little cherub? Very easily, in fact…

You know when everyday people become famous – say, for example, after winning a competition – they often become demanding divas? Remember Susan Boyle?

Well, the fame which has come with winning not one, but two Facebook competitions, has turned Roman into Miss Boyle – only with less fur and smaller ears.

Roman is spoilt. I don’t think anyone could deny that. However, he is incredibly cute, plus Claire and I love him to bits, so are happy to over-pamper our pet.

One of the ways in which Claire treats Roman, is to let him out into his run for an hour, on days in which we are both working. As he isn’t able to stay in the run, while the house is unoccupied, this small taste of freedom at least allows him to stretch his legs and get some exercise.

Once the hour is up and it is time for Claire to leave for work, Roman must return to his cage. He is normally very well-behaved, giving us no problems and happily hopping back into his cage. He is rightly rewarded with dried mango and apple, for his cooperation. These tasty snacks are designed for human consumption – see, I told you he was spoilt.

This morning, Gizmo Roman turned into Gremlin Roman. He would not return home to his cage. I was upstairs at the time, but I could hear my poor wife, Claire, becoming more and more stressed and exasperated, with our bunny. The longer he refused to leave his run, then more the time ticked away, potentially making her late for work.

Despite my best offers of help, Claire felt that she had to fight this battle alone. To be fair, my wife was right. With Roman behaving like the little girl in The Exorcist, I would have clearly struggled to deal with the situation myself. You must appreciate, Roman will not be picked up by anyone, under any circumstances. Therefore, any transfers to and from his run, involve physically moving the entire cage. Due to the physical constraints, related to my medical condition, even attempting such a task alone, would be a recipe for disaster – or a dropped cage and crushed bunny.

Thankfully, more by God’s will than any luck, Roman did get back into his cage, and Claire made it to work, with just two minutes to spare.

A rather peeved Roman, caught on CCTV

Later that morning, shortly before it was my turn to leave for work, I fed Roman his breakfast-cum-brunch-cum-lunch.

While he was eating his delicious meal of dried nuggets and chopped kale, I gave him what was, effectively, a father-son chat. I began to tell Roman that his earlier behaviour was unacceptable and unfair on his mum. He then looked at me, with his deep brown eyes and made my heart melt. The git.

So, instead of getting angry at our bunny, I ended up stroking his head, neck and back, while he sunk into a state of bliss.

He’s so spoilt.

… “If only they could talk.”

I would love to know what little Romy was thinking, as he sat in his run, looking so cute.