I’ve been such a bad and sporadic blogger of late. I hate to just pop in and complain or be negative so I hope that has not been the case, and I apologize if it has. I know I have the natural tendency to be a pessimist and it is probably why I am inspired and drawn to things that are very uplifting. I have to make a conscious effort to try and stay positive.
Yesterday, very unexpectedly, I had to put my house rabbit, Theo, to sleep. I came home for my lunch break to find her gravely ill and frantically called to make an appointment for her locally. Mind you, she had been perfectly fine the day before and the day before that she was running around playing with our cat in the living room (supervised of course). Turns out her our vet no longer sees small animals so I had to drive to Rockford, about an hour’s drive, at the recommendation of my vet. Matt joined me for the ride, which kept me very calm, and I had no doubt that Theo would just have a cold and needs antibiotics and/or fluids and warmth, etc. The Dr. examined her and informed me that Theo was in really bad shape, which I could tell, but I think it was her way of letting me know that she probably wasn’t going to make it. I grasped for a miracle and after having the Dr. x-ray and then take samples to examine it was either rush her to another hospital for emergency surgery at which point she probably wouldn’t make it anyway, or put her to sleep. I’ve never had to do that before, make a life or death decision, and I don’t ever want to do it again. Even with Matt there, holding my hand, hugging me and letting me know I made the best decision, I can’t help but just second guess myself and feel like I was a horrible pet owner. I really wanted to be the best owner and was well read on modern proper care for house rabbits. She was spayed when she was just a little bub, because doing so can double their life span, but in the end it didn’t matter. On the way to the vet and even in the waiting room we discussed ways to rearrange her cage for her benefit, etc. Little did I know, she wouldn’t be returning with me.
When we first brought home Bishop, our kitten, Theo was very angry and stomped and charged to assert her authority. But little by little they got more comfortable enough to play together, mostly with Bishop chasing her. Even as Bishop grew and finally got larger than Theo, she still felt in control. You could tell she enjoyed playing with bishop because when and if she was frightened she thomped her hind legs, or if she would have been really frightened she would have run back into her cage to hide, but she enjoyed their time running around together.
Bishop used to sleep on top of Theo’s cage, and if he isn’t near one of us, you could be guaranteed he would be in the room with her cage. I’m sad thinking about how excited I was for Bishop and Theo to be snugglers, once Bishop was no longer the roudy kitten that he still is.
I’ll miss her licks. She showed affection, and desire to be pet, by licking me. And unlike a dog or cat with “dog or cat breath” rabbits, or maybe it was just Theo, didn’t have stinky breath. Instead it just smelled like timothy hay, or grass, and how could that be wrong?
She used to rush the cage when anyone would walk by, in hopes for a treat. She preferred raisins, craisins, or blueberry yogurt treats. She also loved grass and that made her the perfect pet for me.
She stomped to alert if she sensed danger. I remember being freaked out the first time it happened, thinking she was having bad dreams. Last year when my best friend came in the middle of the night to decorate my front door for my birthday, I didn’t hear her, but Theo must have, and kept stomping. The next day Erica told me how she could hear the rabbit pounding and thought it was going to give her away.
She was a blonde dutch, which meant she also had white fur and her white fur was always pristine. I never had to bathe her and her hair remained perfectly clean. I just remembered a bag of her fur I have kept to possibly try and spin. She would molt seasonally and it would look like a rabbit exploded, her hair would be everywhere. I would pluck as much as I could and stick it in a ziplock bag.
When I first got her, Matt could hold her in one hand, and yet, she was discounted because she was so big.
She was so beautiful and had perfect coloring and fur till the end. She was always an inspiration for me and I recreated her likeness in several pieces of artwork. Truth is, she actually hated the camera. I think I accidentally flashed her one too many times in the face. She grew to know cameras and would immediately run away. Here is my flickr set devoted entirely to her.
I’ll miss her greatly.