I can’t believe it’s already been a week since we spent our last few hours together. It’s so different here and your Daddy and I have been so sad. I guess I knew somewhere in my heart that afternoon that when you didn’t eat your pumpkin seeds and you looked like you were trying so hard to breathe that we probably weren’t going to bring you home when your Daddy said it was time to take you to the vet, but I just didn’t want to believe it.
You were such a brave little girl. It’s been just over a year since I found your third tumor. I really wish we could have asked you if you wanted surgery again but we’re just too dumb to understand more than the basics of Bunny. I wish we spoke your language better. But we just couldn’t see putting you through that for a third time with the chance that it could come back AGAIN. And after we talked to the vet here in February I sometimes wonder if we should have even done the first two. You suffered so much in your short little life. It seems to unfair. And yet you were always so brave and upbeat. The last year we had been expecting the end so many times and you just kept on going. I guess I thought that maybe it didn’t have to end, but of course it does, for everyone.
I’m sorry we weren’t with you when you left but I hope you know that it was the best we could do to minimize your suffering. The vet said after the gas when he tried to give you that last injection the first vein he tried blew up. I’m so glad you didn’t have to feel that but I’m so sorry they wouldn’t let us be with you as you fell asleep. I hope you understand we tried to do the best for you. I really didn’t think you’d like those electric clippers.
We were so worried about leaving you alone last weekend. I hope you know we weren’t trying to rush you, but as best we could tell it was time. When your Daddy cleaned out your cage this week he found very small poops and since you had been gradually eating less and less and had refused your favorite treat we thought that was our cue. We asked the vet but he said giving you more pain killers or starting to use narcotic ones would slow down your GI tract even more. We knew it was just a matter of time.
I found the receipt from your last visit to the vet in February the other day. It was on the 28th. When the vet weighed you last week you’d lost 1/2 a pound since then. When we account for the amazing fiber you were still growing and the tumor, I’m willing to bet it was closer to a whole pound. You’d lost over a 10th of your body weight in the last 6 weeks or so. No matter how many treats we gave you, your body just couldn’t keep up.
I hope you know we tried our very best to do right by you. We tried so hard to get you better sweetie but that damn cancer just wouldn’t go away! We tried to make you as comfortable as we could. But you were breathing so hard in that last week, even when you were just sitting with me in the hallway. You were so brave sweetie. So brave. And I’m so sorry I didn’t spend more time with you in that last week. If I’d only known…
We love you so much. And your legacy is going to go on for a very long time. We gave some of your things to a shelter that has homeless bunnies. I hope they enjoy your food and some of your toys and maybe even like pumpkin seeds as much as you did. I hope they find a Mommy & Daddy that will love them and spoil them as much as we loved and spoiled you. And of course, I have all your beautiful fiber. So much I don’t even know how I’ll use it all. But it doesn’t matter right now. I have your first haircut spun up in a nice little skein I can keep forever and since I knew your last haircut was going to be your last haircut ever since it made you so uncomfortable to do it I put it in a special box and labeled it. I don’t think I’ll ever open that box.
It’s so quiet and empty here without you. When they brought us your body after you had left it I could feel the emptiness of it all the way to my core. Even when we weren’t at home this weekend I could feel how empty it was here. We miss you so much sweetie. We miss your nomming sounds and your bunny flops. We miss you just being here with us.
Thank you for everything you taught us. We were so clueless when we brought you home and you taught us so much. So much about how to be a bunny mom & dad, so much about love, so much about life. Thank you for everything you taught us. I hope you know that we tried our best. We really did. And we loved you more than I can even imagine sometimes. I don’t know if there will be another bunny in our future, but if there is we’ll be so much more well prepared thanks to you.
I’m sure Simba met you when you passed. Tell her we love her and miss her too.
Goodbye my sweet baby girl. Your time here was far too short but will be treasured forever.
Rest in peace.