Rabbits. Popular domestic pets. Timid, quiet, unassuming, unintelligent little creatures. Or ARE they?

In the summer of 2005 Dr Leopold Schnitzelgruber (formerly a celebrated marine-biologist) embarked on a four-year experiment which would test the intelligence and communication abilities of the common pet-rabbit. Using specially designed apparatus, Schnitzelgruber subjected ‘Frisky’ the rabbit to a constantly looped English language audiotape and monitored the animals reaction by sellotaping a pencil to Frisky’s forehead and sitting him in front of a typewriter. Unfortunately, after three years and six months, Frisky died. Schnitzelgruber remained adamant that the experiment was a success, mainly in order to secure continued financial-backing from the experiments sponsors IBM, who (upon being presented with the actual typings of the rabbit) didn’t consider ‘ZZNJRD@---9’ constituted any literal merit whatsoever and therefore ended the funding. Much to the bitter disappointment of Schnitzelgruber, who stormed out of the meeting shouting a torrent of abuse.
A fortnight later the laboratory was cleared of its apparatus. Upon moving Frisky’s hutch, several tiny envelopes and a minute diary were discovered. And so it transpired that Frisky had not only kept a day-to-day account of his life, but also enjoyed a secret two-year correspondence with his pen pal ‘Vic’, a Guinea pig from Wichita, USA.

There now follows what would have been Frisky’s last letter to Vic.....

Dear Vic,
I cannot express how much I look forward to your letters. My long days are empty and lifeless and I cling to your correspondence like driftwood in a stagnant sea.
I sat in the far corner of the hutch behind the food bowl this Wednesday and was instantly annoyed with myself for doing so, as I usually save that particular treat for Friday nights and birthdays, and as they say, you can’t burn the candle at both ends. Also, whilst on the subject of raw excitement, the laboratory staff left earlier than usual on Thursday night, and in their haste forgot to pull the window blinds down before leaving. What a night that was? I fell in love a million times over as I spent a whole night of rapturous passion hopelessly lost within the soothing bosom of a darling Moon. For this time and this time alone there would be no cage, no laboratory, no man-made restraints could hold me as I gazed in awe at this heavenly incandescence. This Sun as a ghost. This dazzling beacon of infinite wonder.
For a short while, it all made perfect sense.

Yours sincerely,
Frisky.

PS: Are you still having trouble with those raccoons?