📅 Tuesday, 7 July 2026 · No. 104

My Handsome Marshmallow, Distinguished Gentleman

🌿 Daily Logs · ✎ 4 min · by Azmi in Meknes

Azmi's note My personal log from Meknes, not vet advice. Just what I did and saw tonight.

Good evening, readers. Tonight the diary does something different: a formal audience with the most distinguished gentleman in Meknes. He arrived precisely on time, sat tall without being asked, arranged his ears to perfection, and agreed to answer my questions on the condition that treats would be provided. I agreed. One does not negotiate with Marshmallow. One simply offers the treat and picks up the pen.

On posture: sitting tall

ME: You sat up the moment you saw the camera. Is that instinct or training? MARSHMALLOW: [sits fractionally taller] It is standards. A gentleman presents himself. The light in this room favors the upright pose, and I am aware of my angles. ME: The ears tonight are flawless. Any comment? MARSHMALLOW: [rotates left ear one degree] I woke up like this. ME: Humble too. MARSHMALLOW: I contain multitudes. Pass the willow ball.

For the record, I photographed him from slightly below, which is the only camera angle that does him justice. From above he looks like a marshmallow, which is accurate but undignified. From below he looks like a monument, which is how he prefers to be remembered. I have a whole shelf of camouflage experiments from my mirror moment camouflage photos, and none of them flatter him the way a low angle and a clean background do.

On character: the distinguished air

ME: People use the word distinguished about you constantly. What does it mean to you? MARSHMALLOW: [washes face slowly] It means I do not chew the furniture. It means I greet guests, I tolerate the hat, I forgive the vacuum. Dignity is mostly restraint. ME: You mention the hat. Any hard feelings about that photo session? MARSHMALLOW: [long pause] I looked magnificent and we both know it. My statement on the record matches my hat day diary entry: one silly photo for the archive, then the hat retires forever.

ME: Critics say you are spoiled. Your response? MARSHMALLOW: [nudges the treat bag with his nose] Critics are welcome to observe my evening routine and revise their views. I work hard at being calm. Calm is a discipline. Also, the parsley was late yesterday, and I said nothing. Nothing. That is character.

On beauty: the evening routine

ME: Walk me through maintenance. How does the fur stay this perfect? MARSHMALLOW: Brushing, which I supervise closely. I present each side in turn and bite the brush exactly once per session to keep management humble. ME: Diet? MARSHMALLOW: Hay without end, water always fresh, greens in modest civilized portions. I eat slowly and never in a hurry, unlike certain sunset sprinters in this household. ME: Exercise? MARSHMALLOW: A nightly patrol of the rug, three binkies when the mood is right, then rest. A gentleman does not overtrain.

On home life: the rug and the rules

ME: Describe your territory for readers who have never visited. MARSHMALLOW: The rug is mine. The couch leg is mine. The sunny corner between ten and eleven in the morning is mine by ancient treaty. Your slippers are mine pending review. ME: And the litter corner? MARSHMALLOW: Spotless, because I am civilized and because you maintain it to the standard we agreed. A gentleman never blames his staff. ME: That is generous of you. MARSHMALLOW: I am known for it. Ask anyone. Ask the broom. The broom respects me.

ME: One rumor to clear up. Witnesses say you once binkied clean over the tunnel toy for no reason. MARSHMALLOW: [ears forward] There is always a reason. The reason was joy. The tunnel was there. Physics cooperated. I regret nothing and I would do it again tonight if the lighting were right and the humans promised not to shriek. ME: Noted. No shrieking. MARSHMALLOW: See that you keep your word. My vertical leap is a gift and gifts deserve a composed audience.

On fame: being precious

ME: Last question. You are, objectively, a precious bun. How do you carry that? MARSHMALLOW: [leans into a cheek rub, eyes half closing] Lightly. Preciousness is a burden only if you resist it. I accept the admiration, I share the calm, I sit tall so the evening has a centerpiece. Tell the readers the sitting fee was fair. ME: It was two treats and a head rub. MARSHMALLOW: Generous. I will pose again tomorrow.

ME: Any message for the young rabbits reading this diary? MARSHMALLOW: Sit tall. Wash often. Forgive the vacuum sooner than I did; it is mostly noise and it fears you more than you fear it. And when the human sits on the floor at night, go to them at once, because floor time is love in its purest form and the treats afterward are only a bonus. ME: Wise words to end on. MARSHMALLOW: I am a wise rabbit. Now the cheek rub you promised. The left cheek first. I will tell you when to switch.

Interview ends. The gentleman stood, shook out his magnificent coat, touched my hand once with his nose in what I choose to receive as thanks, and retired to the rug in a loaf of perfect symmetry. Short entry, tall bunny: the old diary line still holds, because some nights the photo really is the whole story. Tonight the story also has quotes, and every one of them earned its treat.

🐰

Written by Azmi

I track my rabbits' diet, weight and naps to see what works. Photos are mine, mess included. Say hi on the contact page.

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