bunny torture

I brought home a little blue Easter bunny that I found at Mom's place last month. It was tucked away in a box with some other stuffed creatures, and it just called to me, so I thought I'd bring it home. It actually may have been a bunny that I gave to her one Easter (we used to send each other Easter boxes with silly little gifts and candies inside). At any rate, this poor innocent bunny has been co-opted by Marzipan.

No matter where I put the bunny, it always appears in strange new places. She never fails to find it, grab it by the ears and fling it across the room, and shake it until it's dead. Several times I've come home only to rescue it from the cat food bowls, sitting casually, or occasionally, face down in kitty crunchies. Most recently, I found it in this compromising, and no doubt uncomfortable, situation among the cacti on the hearth. Yes, he's impaled on a cactus spine!

Tonight I found her digging through one of Mr. G's bags by the armchair. She's not usually so nosy, but upon further investigation, she wasn't taking anything out of his bag, but rather she was hiding the blue bunny IN his bag. A little gift for the man she loves?