A dog in the garden

I do not know its name. I cannot fathom what a dog's name could be. My bunny brain simply cannot compute such an aberration of nature.

It first appeared a couple of days ago. Whence it came, I cannot tell. It simply appeared, barking, wagging an abhorrent tail about the place, as if the sky was something to be displaced and disciplined. To my dismay, then, it began, obliviously, to micturate on all vertical protrudences that encircle my fair abode; trees, ferns, and the dense copsewood at the far edge of the garden. The resulting smell I can't even begin to describe. It's as if the bowels of hell opened up to spew their preternatural tang here on earth. Perhaps it will become impossible for me to remain in my dwelling, for even in the deepest mists of slumber, the horror seems insidiously to creep into the nostrils, polluting my dreams of carrots and other fresh nibblings with foul depravity. Please excuse me, as I must prepare myself to embark on a business trip. I pray to the Lord Almighty that upon my return I might regain bliss and find this scourge of bunnyhood far from here.

Distressingly yours, Bunny Benzo a.k.a. Bunny Bunzenburner