SnowyShiloh
Well-Known Member
I can't believe I'm writing this. I can't believe MY Tallulah, my little Miss Mae Mae, is dead. How can she be? She was bouncing around my living room and trying to get into the bag of bunny food last night. She ran in circles around my feet and gave me kisses. Now she's been dead for three hours and is in the refrigerator so we can take her in for a necropsy in the morning instead of sitting on my lap being petted and adored.
She was only 28 weeks and 1 day old... 7 months. I had her for almost 5 months, but it felt like years. I have to keep correcting myself and write in the past tense. I feel so cheated out of the next 10 years we were supposed to have together. She was just a baby. Why and how is my little princess gone? She did not deserve to have health issues and did not deserve to die so young, no bunny does. I just can't fathom that she isn't here anymore and never will be again.
Every single day I've worried about the day my bunnies will die. I was and am painfully aware that all of my darling bunnies will one day break my heart and be lifeless in my arms, just this morning before I found her lethargic in her cage, I was fearing her eventual death. I had no idea it would happen so soon. I've always had the feeling she wouldn't have a normal life span, but at the same time I'm reeling from the shock. Weird, huh?
Tallulah was a treasure. She was so sweet, so loving, and was very spirited and tenacious. I loved her so much. Her eyes were so warm and friendly and her cute little ears reminded me of a little red haired girl with pig tails. Just the other day I was thinking that I should get some ribbon to tie on her ears and take some pictures. Now I'll never have the chance. Her fur was so soft... It was very silky and long and fine and wonderful. It still seemed very babylike in it's softness.
I won't reiterate everything that happened with her health, but she had health issues from the day we got her. She made many trips to the vet for primarily intestinal issues, but was nearly always cheerful and lively in spite of maybe not feeling so well. She actually was very healthy for the last month of her life, no poopy butt or runny nose or any other problems. It was just in the past couple days that she started having seemingly minor tummy troubles (I was going to schedule her an appointment with the vet today and was concerned but not TOO worried). It wasn't until today that she seemed truly ill. Even when we left the vet this evening, the vet thought she was perking up and would *probably* pull through. She was dead less than an hour later.
My sweet Mae Mae, how can you be gone?
When the vet brought her out to me, I was thinking she seemed more lethargic than before, but the vet was sure she was acting better. I took her home with all her medications, expecting her to act perkier, but she didn't. She would lie on her stomach and flopped in my arms when I held her. I watched as her breathing became more shallow. I got very scared and cried, afraid to look away in case she died. I didn't want her to see me cry or sense my fear, but I couldn't help it. It was either cry in another room and leave her alone as she likely died, or hold her and cry and tell her she'd be okay. It was odd, I was terrified she was dying but was still hopeful she could be saved. Even though she was so lethargic and breathing so shallowly, she was still there. She was still in there. Her eyes didn't look glazed over or pained or scared. They were actually brighter than they had been earlier in the day. Thank God she was somewhat peaceful and was with me.
I was sitting on the couch holding her, trying to tell her breathing apart from my chest heaving making her also move. I told her to hang on for mama and we could make her better if she would just hang in there. I told her she was wonderful and strong and we'd live together for a long time still. I told her she and Skyler would be best buddies soon and she'd get to go play in the grass. My boyfriend got home and I decided maybe it was worth trying to rush her to the after hours veterinarian (a bunny vet was working tonight) in an attempt to save her, but as Paul grabbed the phone to call them, I felt her arch her back, go taut, the muscles in her face tightened, then she relaxed. Her body twitched a couple more times, but she was gone by then. I cried like I cried when Cinnabun died 6 years ago. I cried out her name over and over again (I call her Mae Mae most of the time), and told her she was okay now and rocked her back and forth and kissed her and begged that she not be dead. It didn't work.
After I held her and petted her and talked to her for a long time, I sent Paul out for a rubbermaid container and a pretty towel to wrap her in since the pretty purple towel I bought her last week that she was lying on was dirty from her being sick. He came back with a green towel that he bought because it looked like hay and she loved to eat. I decided to cut off her whiskers on one side and a small swatch of her fur, because I always wished I had a little bit of Cinnabun. I don't think she'll mind mama keeping a little of her.
I remember Paul telling me we could get a second bunny on Christmas, and being crushed when the bunny I wanted at the animal shelter was adopted. Shortly afterwards, Tracy (timetowaste) suggested looking at Craigslist for bunnies in need, so I did. I accidentally found little 8 week old Tallulah instead, who wasn't a bunny in need, but still needed a loving home. I got some flack for not adopting a shelter bunny and always felt guilty, even now, but how I loved (and continue to love) my Tallulah girl. At first, she was afraid of me and ran away, but within a week she followed me everywhere, gave kisses, and demonstrated her fantastic athletic abilities by jumping up on the couch for loving and leaping over NIC panel barries 2 panels high.
I guess that's it for now. Thank you to everyone who also loves my girl, and thank you so much for being here. You are all amazing and I'm glad to know others think she's special too. I can't believe I'm typing this and that she won't be here tomorrow, her cage is empty and her pink food bowl won't be sat in by her ever again.
I like to think of Tallulah being greeted in heaven by Cinnabun and all the other forum bunnies who have passed. She's finally healthy and can run and eat whatever she wants and play in the fields. I imagine her getting ready to go to bed for the first time in a rabbit warren with all our beloved bunnies who have gone.
I love you, Mae Mae!
She was only 28 weeks and 1 day old... 7 months. I had her for almost 5 months, but it felt like years. I have to keep correcting myself and write in the past tense. I feel so cheated out of the next 10 years we were supposed to have together. She was just a baby. Why and how is my little princess gone? She did not deserve to have health issues and did not deserve to die so young, no bunny does. I just can't fathom that she isn't here anymore and never will be again.
Every single day I've worried about the day my bunnies will die. I was and am painfully aware that all of my darling bunnies will one day break my heart and be lifeless in my arms, just this morning before I found her lethargic in her cage, I was fearing her eventual death. I had no idea it would happen so soon. I've always had the feeling she wouldn't have a normal life span, but at the same time I'm reeling from the shock. Weird, huh?
Tallulah was a treasure. She was so sweet, so loving, and was very spirited and tenacious. I loved her so much. Her eyes were so warm and friendly and her cute little ears reminded me of a little red haired girl with pig tails. Just the other day I was thinking that I should get some ribbon to tie on her ears and take some pictures. Now I'll never have the chance. Her fur was so soft... It was very silky and long and fine and wonderful. It still seemed very babylike in it's softness.
I won't reiterate everything that happened with her health, but she had health issues from the day we got her. She made many trips to the vet for primarily intestinal issues, but was nearly always cheerful and lively in spite of maybe not feeling so well. She actually was very healthy for the last month of her life, no poopy butt or runny nose or any other problems. It was just in the past couple days that she started having seemingly minor tummy troubles (I was going to schedule her an appointment with the vet today and was concerned but not TOO worried). It wasn't until today that she seemed truly ill. Even when we left the vet this evening, the vet thought she was perking up and would *probably* pull through. She was dead less than an hour later.
My sweet Mae Mae, how can you be gone?
When the vet brought her out to me, I was thinking she seemed more lethargic than before, but the vet was sure she was acting better. I took her home with all her medications, expecting her to act perkier, but she didn't. She would lie on her stomach and flopped in my arms when I held her. I watched as her breathing became more shallow. I got very scared and cried, afraid to look away in case she died. I didn't want her to see me cry or sense my fear, but I couldn't help it. It was either cry in another room and leave her alone as she likely died, or hold her and cry and tell her she'd be okay. It was odd, I was terrified she was dying but was still hopeful she could be saved. Even though she was so lethargic and breathing so shallowly, she was still there. She was still in there. Her eyes didn't look glazed over or pained or scared. They were actually brighter than they had been earlier in the day. Thank God she was somewhat peaceful and was with me.
I was sitting on the couch holding her, trying to tell her breathing apart from my chest heaving making her also move. I told her to hang on for mama and we could make her better if she would just hang in there. I told her she was wonderful and strong and we'd live together for a long time still. I told her she and Skyler would be best buddies soon and she'd get to go play in the grass. My boyfriend got home and I decided maybe it was worth trying to rush her to the after hours veterinarian (a bunny vet was working tonight) in an attempt to save her, but as Paul grabbed the phone to call them, I felt her arch her back, go taut, the muscles in her face tightened, then she relaxed. Her body twitched a couple more times, but she was gone by then. I cried like I cried when Cinnabun died 6 years ago. I cried out her name over and over again (I call her Mae Mae most of the time), and told her she was okay now and rocked her back and forth and kissed her and begged that she not be dead. It didn't work.
After I held her and petted her and talked to her for a long time, I sent Paul out for a rubbermaid container and a pretty towel to wrap her in since the pretty purple towel I bought her last week that she was lying on was dirty from her being sick. He came back with a green towel that he bought because it looked like hay and she loved to eat. I decided to cut off her whiskers on one side and a small swatch of her fur, because I always wished I had a little bit of Cinnabun. I don't think she'll mind mama keeping a little of her.
I remember Paul telling me we could get a second bunny on Christmas, and being crushed when the bunny I wanted at the animal shelter was adopted. Shortly afterwards, Tracy (timetowaste) suggested looking at Craigslist for bunnies in need, so I did. I accidentally found little 8 week old Tallulah instead, who wasn't a bunny in need, but still needed a loving home. I got some flack for not adopting a shelter bunny and always felt guilty, even now, but how I loved (and continue to love) my Tallulah girl. At first, she was afraid of me and ran away, but within a week she followed me everywhere, gave kisses, and demonstrated her fantastic athletic abilities by jumping up on the couch for loving and leaping over NIC panel barries 2 panels high.
I guess that's it for now. Thank you to everyone who also loves my girl, and thank you so much for being here. You are all amazing and I'm glad to know others think she's special too. I can't believe I'm typing this and that she won't be here tomorrow, her cage is empty and her pink food bowl won't be sat in by her ever again.
I like to think of Tallulah being greeted in heaven by Cinnabun and all the other forum bunnies who have passed. She's finally healthy and can run and eat whatever she wants and play in the fields. I imagine her getting ready to go to bed for the first time in a rabbit warren with all our beloved bunnies who have gone.
I love you, Mae Mae!
ray:for your healing and for peace for you, SnowyShiloh.
