The good little bunny that left us.

Our bunny passed away yesterday. She was suffering from an infection and was on antibiotics for weeks, and she seemed fine only a few days before. Since she wasn’t eating like usually does, we took her to the vet. I wasn’t there when it happened but when the doctor was examining her, for reasons we aren’t certain of, she screamed went quiet. Forever. I saw her on the table, motionless. The doctor and his assistant had tried what they could, massaging her heart and trying to get her to breathe, but to no avail.

It took me a few minutes to proceed all this. I took her to the car in her basket. It was raining. My wife was already in tears, and I tried to comfort her. We stood in the rain for a little while. Then I got in the car and bawled my eyes out. My mom was calling, and I didn’t have the heart to answer because I knew she’d break down. I drove home through a web of tears.

I sat in the car until my mom came to see why we didn’t walk into the house. She saw that we had cried and I broke down again. My dad tried to console all of us, without much success.

I have experienced death and loss before. My uncle, grandpa and both my grandmas passed away. Even one of our close friends, just last week. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt anguish like this in any of those instances.

I didn’t cry when my grandparents passed away. They fed me, took care of me and was there for me almost all my life but when they left us forever, I wasn’t able to cry. I’m not really sure why that was. Maybe it was because I wanted to appear strong. Maybe I had accepted that death was inevitable. But with our bunny, I just can’t seem to stop shedding tears. Everywhere I look, memories come to me in waves. All the good times we’ve had.

Our bunny came into our lives unexpectedly. It was my wife’s birthday and her brother visited us with this cute little bundle of fur. We had always thought of getting us a bunny because bunnies and pandas are our favorite animals — and finally having one in our own house felt amazing.

We named her Yukiko (Snow Child) and she was a very good bunny. We’d often call her the “goodest boi”. Even though we named her, we always called her baby, because that’s what she was to us. She was clever, fearless and adorable.

We made her a little pen with cardboard and we bought a few large plastic containers as a living space for her. But they didn’t stop her from hopping out of it. But since she was a good girl, she quickly got used to using the litter box.

She grew up faster than we expected, and before long — she was able to hop on to anything she wanted. She learnt how to hop on to our bed to seek comfort. She started to cozy up to us, and would lick our hands when she wanted to show us that she loved us. She started pooping and peeing on our bed once in a while, and we didn’t get mad about it most of the time! She bit through a lot of our cables, too. But then we covered up the cables and bunny-proofed them.

We found hay for her, and the first time we bought a pack for her, she went nuts! She quickly started noticing other food also. She’d smell bananas a mile away and wound hop to us asking for a bit. Biscuit packets? Yup, the same. She was fond of carbs. But we didn’t want her to get addicted, so it was a small bite once in a while.

We kept the cats away from her at first because we weren’t sure what the outcome would’ve been. But with time they all became friends. Eventually she even managed to get the cats to be afraid of her. A cat napping near her food? She’d snap at them and the cats would be running for their lives.

When it was time for us to move from my parent’s place to our own space, we faced a dilemma. Obviously we wanted to take her with us, but exposing her to loneliness and an empty house was not what we wanted since we’d be at work. So we left her with my parents and they took great care of her.

We couldn’t stay away from her for long, so we’d always visit. It was nice to see her taken care of. Both my parents loved her just as we did. We loved to see her wash her face and clean her ears. How she became a bun loaf when she wanted to rest. How she would plop on her side and chill when she was feeling relaxed and content.

I miss her peeing and pooping on our bed. I miss her biting through my usb cables. I wish she could return and chomp through all the cables in the house, and ruin our bed with pee. I’d do anything to get her back.

I miss my baby and I hope she’s hopping around in heaven, with an endless supply of hay, greens and all the stuff she liked to nom. I’m sad that our kids won’t be able to play with her — but someday I will tell them what a good bun she was.

Rest in peace, little fluff ball. You’ll be forever hopping about in our hearts ❤️