Sat, 11 Mar 2006
Our pet bunny Mr. Boddington, who was indeed named after the beer, has a growth a bit larger than a golf ball in his gut. It’s pressed up against his intestines and that’s blocking anything from coming out. It’s incurable without surgery and bunnies are so sensitive that they usually don’t survive surgery. He was obviously in quite a bit of pain. He would just barely move around his pen and when he did his legs would shake. He’d just lie on our lap and not move a muscle. Just two days ago he was running around the house and hiding behind the curtains. This afternoon we had to let him go. I held him as they gave him the anesthesia (gas) to put him to sleep. I talked to him and petted his head as he went to sleep. I’d like to think that my voice and my touch comforted him. Then the Dr. gave him the injection. He didn’t kick or wince or anything. He felt no pain at all. I held him for about 2 more minutes while his breathing slowed to a stop and then he was gone. I already miss the little guy. My wife is really torn apart about it. He was her buddy for the past 4 years. Every morning she’d pet him for 10 or 15 minutes before she made his breakfast of fresh greens and hay. Every night he’d run around the house and play before he’d settled down and snuggle up at her feet. Mr. B is no longer in pain and I’m glad I was there for his last moments. I don’t know if there’s a bunny heaven but if there is he’s there in a garden of dandilions and kale.
Mr. Boddington.
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