Hello all. I am having a really tough time getting past the death of my bunny early yesterday morning. Perhaps it would help if I shared my experience with you all.
Warning: details below re: his death.
I got Mr. Rogers 12 years ago from a pet store. He was my only bunny, he lived inside in his cage, and he was not neutered. I was only 21 when I got him and I didn't know much about bunnies at the time.
Since that day, Rodge has accompanied me through relationships, a marriage, the birth of my son, four moves, three states, and a whole bunch of history.
About a year ago, we discovered a testicular tumor. Because he was already 11, the vet did not recommend surgery. Instead, we opted to make him comfortable in his final days. He lived another entire year! He remained pleasant, he ate, he drank, etc.
For the last week, though, I found that I suddenly did not need to refill his food every other day. I filled it up once right in front of him, though, even though he still had food, and he hopped right to it, so I thought his preferences were just changing.
I went away for the weekend and came back Sunday night. My husband encountered the same situation while I was gone... no need to refill his food. I was worried, but I thought that, perhaps with his age, his appetite was just dwindling a bit.
I awakened at 4:30 AM yesterday morning to an odd sound coming from his cage. It sounded like scratching against plastic. I went into the room where he was and he was lying there, presumably having seizures. He stopped when I turned on the light and he looked right at me with a bloodshot eye. I told him everything was okay and I loved him. I pet him, but he began to convulse again, so I didn't want to disturb him much more. I told him he wasn't alone and I was there for him.
He looked suddenly thin and weak lying there, and his breathing got increasingly quick and shallow. I started to cry. I assumed he was dying and I didn't know what to do. No more than five minutes later, he stopped breathing altogether. His eyes remained open.
I was in disbelief. I was relieved for him that the convulsing was over, but I cannot help but replay his death in my mind ever since. I have only ever witnessed euthanasia or, sure, I knew of people close to me who had died, but I have never witnessed someone or something simply stop breathing in my presence, especially after what appeared to be a painful struggle.
As a side note, I just had to euthanize my dog, who was also 12 and who also had cancer, 6 weeks ago.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Mr. Rogers' poor little struggling face looking up at me.
I know that the life expectancy is 12 years, and he lived to be 12. However, I simply cannot shake watching him pass yesterday. I should have euthanized him within the last week when his eating dwindled, but I think I was just in denial that it was in fact the end since he'd had such a long, wonderful life. I think I'd hoped he'd be around forever.
I cannot stop thinking about the last few moments we had together. Did he know how much I loved him and appreciated his company over the years? Did he realize that I never worried about any little noises in the house, because I knew they were probably coming from him? Was he convulsing for long before I woke up? In just how much pain was he? What could I have done differently?
I may be in a bit of depression having lost both of my pets so closely to one another. I am the only bunny owner I know and I think I just need some support that others haven't really been able to give. He was a constant presence in my life. He is sorely missed today.
Thank you for reading.
Warning: details below re: his death.
I got Mr. Rogers 12 years ago from a pet store. He was my only bunny, he lived inside in his cage, and he was not neutered. I was only 21 when I got him and I didn't know much about bunnies at the time.
Since that day, Rodge has accompanied me through relationships, a marriage, the birth of my son, four moves, three states, and a whole bunch of history.
About a year ago, we discovered a testicular tumor. Because he was already 11, the vet did not recommend surgery. Instead, we opted to make him comfortable in his final days. He lived another entire year! He remained pleasant, he ate, he drank, etc.
For the last week, though, I found that I suddenly did not need to refill his food every other day. I filled it up once right in front of him, though, even though he still had food, and he hopped right to it, so I thought his preferences were just changing.
I went away for the weekend and came back Sunday night. My husband encountered the same situation while I was gone... no need to refill his food. I was worried, but I thought that, perhaps with his age, his appetite was just dwindling a bit.
I awakened at 4:30 AM yesterday morning to an odd sound coming from his cage. It sounded like scratching against plastic. I went into the room where he was and he was lying there, presumably having seizures. He stopped when I turned on the light and he looked right at me with a bloodshot eye. I told him everything was okay and I loved him. I pet him, but he began to convulse again, so I didn't want to disturb him much more. I told him he wasn't alone and I was there for him.
He looked suddenly thin and weak lying there, and his breathing got increasingly quick and shallow. I started to cry. I assumed he was dying and I didn't know what to do. No more than five minutes later, he stopped breathing altogether. His eyes remained open.
I was in disbelief. I was relieved for him that the convulsing was over, but I cannot help but replay his death in my mind ever since. I have only ever witnessed euthanasia or, sure, I knew of people close to me who had died, but I have never witnessed someone or something simply stop breathing in my presence, especially after what appeared to be a painful struggle.
As a side note, I just had to euthanize my dog, who was also 12 and who also had cancer, 6 weeks ago.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Mr. Rogers' poor little struggling face looking up at me.
I know that the life expectancy is 12 years, and he lived to be 12. However, I simply cannot shake watching him pass yesterday. I should have euthanized him within the last week when his eating dwindled, but I think I was just in denial that it was in fact the end since he'd had such a long, wonderful life. I think I'd hoped he'd be around forever.
I cannot stop thinking about the last few moments we had together. Did he know how much I loved him and appreciated his company over the years? Did he realize that I never worried about any little noises in the house, because I knew they were probably coming from him? Was he convulsing for long before I woke up? In just how much pain was he? What could I have done differently?
I may be in a bit of depression having lost both of my pets so closely to one another. I am the only bunny owner I know and I think I just need some support that others haven't really been able to give. He was a constant presence in my life. He is sorely missed today.
Thank you for reading.
