Charlie: June 8, 2005

In which I lose a friend.

Categorized

Animals
Life

Charlie the bunny died.

There’s a whole back story to this, a story involving severe constipation and a big loud storm that probably contributed to a sick bunny’s stress, but in the end, we were all totally blindsided by the outcome. The terrible thing is, we don’t even know what happened — one evening he was fine, the next morning he was listless and not eating. And I did everything I could, and the vets did everything they could, but nothing worked; his body just shut down. The past two days have been a surreal blur of feeding syringes and baby food and freakishly empty litterpans, and now there’s just this empty cage sitting there across the room from me while I type, with the door open. Every time I came into the room yesterday, I’d see the open door and think for a panicky second that the bunny had gotten out, not remembering that he was at the vet’s. Now I see that open door and cry. Wasn’t it just recently that my little niece was saying BUNNYBUNNYBUNNY and trying to climb into his cage? How could this happen so fast?

Yesterday, in the vet’s office, I held Charlie like a baby while he shed all over me and hid his face in the crook of my arm. We had to leave him there for treatment, and when the vet took him from me, Charlie kept trying to scrabble back into my arms, and I was telling him we’d be back for him, we weren’t going to leave him there, it was only temporary. And now I’m never going to see his lopsided little face again, or clip his nails, or tweak his tail when we play, and I’d give a hell of a lot just to get covered in bunny hair one more time.

I don’t know what to think, and I’m even less sure what to do. All I know is, I’m going to need a lot of tissues.