My dearest Sandy lady,
I’m so sorry to be writing this. Let’s start at the beginning.
You came into my life amidst grief. We lost Tubby, and the Boofa within a week of each other in February 2007 and I contacted the lady The Dopeys came from and she said she had you and was trying to sell you. Ashamedly I wanted you to breed with. I was going to take you then changed my mind. The lady took you to rabbit shows to try and sell you that way.
When Moon died I went back to the lady and somehow, she still had you. I went right round and collected you. You were huddled in the back of you tiny cage, scared, alone, timid, not confident. While we were there we were shown around the sheds and that was when we found Badger too- you brought him to us.
You came home that day and boy were you nothing like you presented in the shed. You were an entire diva! You LOVED being in the living room. You were like Queen Sandy! You lorded it over us minions.
You settled in really quickly and were so happy- your life improved immeasurably and you blossomed into such a personalitied, cheeky bunny.
At the start of May 2007 I put you and Sky together- I’m sorry for doing that (but not the outcome). A month later along came 4 bundles of love, and then the next day, a further 3. Seven. That’s SEVEN babies you produced Sandy. Where the bloody hell did they come from! We expected to lose several on the way but you were just a sensational mum and all lived (and are still living). Look what you made!
Around that time we changed vets to a significantly better vet and you and your daughter were the first bunnies I had spayed and you both went through it well.
And then we hit a problem with you, didn’t we miss Diva. So independent were you (with a touch of feistyness and wariness) that each and every boy I tried to bond you with, you fought with- Your sons, Badger, your daughter, my Sky. The list was endless.
So we stopped trying and you moved inside, suddenly lording up my room. Watching you binky around that cage when I first moved you in was just lovely.
And that’s how we stayed. We battled gut problems for a long time- all the excess caecotrophs. We tried so much and, right until the end, the solution was elusive but we sussed it eventually.
Then Roger found himself alone and given how soft he was I wanted to give you one more chance. I put you in together in May 2010 and your tail went up and you went to attack and he sidled over and started grooming you instantly- I could almost see you think ‘yeh, this is ok actually’.
You guys bonded with no problems, although I was ultra careful and slept with my head by the run (which was outside). You moved outside with Roge and you were both happy. So happy. He was your little servant boy and worshipped the ground you hopped on, and you were his confidence.
You finally had what I wanted you to have. And you really loved it. You needed regular dentals, and that was ok because you tolerated them well. Then last November you got a blockage and were at the vets for a good few days, with your hubby by your side. I knew then what it was but couldn’t prove it. I garbled on about it until the end and yes, you were badly let down by the vet who didn’t x-ray you properly. I kept you on Metacam and when the opportunity next came around you were x-rayed by our regular vet who found that you did indeed have a brewing abscess. We treated that and your excess caecotrophs went away. Then it became evident you had arthritis and so we kept you on the pain relief. These last couple of months you and Roger have just been better than ever- you’ve been amazing. You never showed any sign of struggling, you just strode on, in a very Sandy way, battling everything that came you way. You were one tough girl.
10 days ago you had your check up and your vaccination and our vet identified a significant heart murmur. It didn’t trouble you at all, we decided not to medicate because there were no clinical signs of a problem at that point. We were going to ‘watch this space’ knowing it would eventually cause you a problem.
It appears it did Sandy lady, significantly earlier than we thought it would. Yesterday morning you and Roge were bright like normal, came charging and chasing for pellets and tucked into your Timothy Hay. All normal. Nothing in your behaviour made me concerned, although, as I mentioned to the vet, it smelt weird in there. We went out and when we came home, at approx. 6.30pm last night, my brother found you. You were gone. Your extremities were cold, but your body was warm. You hadn’t been there long. You looked like you were asleep, with no signs of trauma around you. Roge was all cuddled up.
So I was very practical, leaving you with him, doing the other bunnies, a bit of research, stuff like that. I feel like someone has smacked me round the head though- I can’t think properly. I haven’t really cried. I just feel nothing.
But please missy, don’t ever think that’s because I don’t love you, or you’re less worthy, because that’s not true, you just caught me so by surprise that I can’t take it in. How do you take in such a massive loss with no warning?
So I started to think about the things about you that made me laugh. Like how, whenever I had you on my lap for something (nail clipping, etc), you’d sit on your hind legs and periscope, looking at me as if to say ‘hands off me lady!’. Or when you used to have a digging tray and you used to roll in it and wiggle like a dog. Or just after you finished your abscess treatment you decided you wanted a new wardrobe and shed your winter coat in like a day (seriously never seen anything like that, EVER). Or how you just came here and just made it Sandy’s room. Or how you were the rabbit that made all the other rabbits fight when you were near them (troublemaker? You?) Or how you gave me the most wonderful Flashlettes- Flash’s grandchildren. You gave me seven priceless gifts. Even though you’re not here, they are, and your memory will always linger on for the amazing personality of yours, and the amazing personalities you brought to us.
I feel entirely indebted to you, to be honest Sandy. You gave me an amazing gift and I feel that I never quite repaid that. And then to not be there at the end just plain sucks (for me) but it looks like it may have been peaceful for you- I hope with everything in me that it was.
So what do I do now lady?
Every time I go out expect to see you begging (yes, you were a huge foody, remember? The only thing you thought was yucky was green pepper and your face was priceless), or being chased by Roger.
He misses you so much Sandy but you may see him sooner than we expected- we are struggling to identify what his problem is and I don’t think it’s fair to go overboard on it because with you he wouldn’t have coped, let alone without you.
You’re going to be cremated at the lovely place Dopey 2 was and then come home. One day your ashes will be mixed with Roger’s. Then you’ll be together forever.
Thank you lady, for coming into my life and waiting for me to realise I wanted you. I really hope you did have a blast here and had your dreams came true.
Love always.
X
I’m so sorry to be writing this. Let’s start at the beginning.
You came into my life amidst grief. We lost Tubby, and the Boofa within a week of each other in February 2007 and I contacted the lady The Dopeys came from and she said she had you and was trying to sell you. Ashamedly I wanted you to breed with. I was going to take you then changed my mind. The lady took you to rabbit shows to try and sell you that way.
When Moon died I went back to the lady and somehow, she still had you. I went right round and collected you. You were huddled in the back of you tiny cage, scared, alone, timid, not confident. While we were there we were shown around the sheds and that was when we found Badger too- you brought him to us.
You came home that day and boy were you nothing like you presented in the shed. You were an entire diva! You LOVED being in the living room. You were like Queen Sandy! You lorded it over us minions.
You settled in really quickly and were so happy- your life improved immeasurably and you blossomed into such a personalitied, cheeky bunny.
At the start of May 2007 I put you and Sky together- I’m sorry for doing that (but not the outcome). A month later along came 4 bundles of love, and then the next day, a further 3. Seven. That’s SEVEN babies you produced Sandy. Where the bloody hell did they come from! We expected to lose several on the way but you were just a sensational mum and all lived (and are still living). Look what you made!
Around that time we changed vets to a significantly better vet and you and your daughter were the first bunnies I had spayed and you both went through it well.
And then we hit a problem with you, didn’t we miss Diva. So independent were you (with a touch of feistyness and wariness) that each and every boy I tried to bond you with, you fought with- Your sons, Badger, your daughter, my Sky. The list was endless.
So we stopped trying and you moved inside, suddenly lording up my room. Watching you binky around that cage when I first moved you in was just lovely.
And that’s how we stayed. We battled gut problems for a long time- all the excess caecotrophs. We tried so much and, right until the end, the solution was elusive but we sussed it eventually.
Then Roger found himself alone and given how soft he was I wanted to give you one more chance. I put you in together in May 2010 and your tail went up and you went to attack and he sidled over and started grooming you instantly- I could almost see you think ‘yeh, this is ok actually’.
You guys bonded with no problems, although I was ultra careful and slept with my head by the run (which was outside). You moved outside with Roge and you were both happy. So happy. He was your little servant boy and worshipped the ground you hopped on, and you were his confidence.
You finally had what I wanted you to have. And you really loved it. You needed regular dentals, and that was ok because you tolerated them well. Then last November you got a blockage and were at the vets for a good few days, with your hubby by your side. I knew then what it was but couldn’t prove it. I garbled on about it until the end and yes, you were badly let down by the vet who didn’t x-ray you properly. I kept you on Metacam and when the opportunity next came around you were x-rayed by our regular vet who found that you did indeed have a brewing abscess. We treated that and your excess caecotrophs went away. Then it became evident you had arthritis and so we kept you on the pain relief. These last couple of months you and Roger have just been better than ever- you’ve been amazing. You never showed any sign of struggling, you just strode on, in a very Sandy way, battling everything that came you way. You were one tough girl.
10 days ago you had your check up and your vaccination and our vet identified a significant heart murmur. It didn’t trouble you at all, we decided not to medicate because there were no clinical signs of a problem at that point. We were going to ‘watch this space’ knowing it would eventually cause you a problem.
It appears it did Sandy lady, significantly earlier than we thought it would. Yesterday morning you and Roge were bright like normal, came charging and chasing for pellets and tucked into your Timothy Hay. All normal. Nothing in your behaviour made me concerned, although, as I mentioned to the vet, it smelt weird in there. We went out and when we came home, at approx. 6.30pm last night, my brother found you. You were gone. Your extremities were cold, but your body was warm. You hadn’t been there long. You looked like you were asleep, with no signs of trauma around you. Roge was all cuddled up.
So I was very practical, leaving you with him, doing the other bunnies, a bit of research, stuff like that. I feel like someone has smacked me round the head though- I can’t think properly. I haven’t really cried. I just feel nothing.
But please missy, don’t ever think that’s because I don’t love you, or you’re less worthy, because that’s not true, you just caught me so by surprise that I can’t take it in. How do you take in such a massive loss with no warning?
So I started to think about the things about you that made me laugh. Like how, whenever I had you on my lap for something (nail clipping, etc), you’d sit on your hind legs and periscope, looking at me as if to say ‘hands off me lady!’. Or when you used to have a digging tray and you used to roll in it and wiggle like a dog. Or just after you finished your abscess treatment you decided you wanted a new wardrobe and shed your winter coat in like a day (seriously never seen anything like that, EVER). Or how you just came here and just made it Sandy’s room. Or how you were the rabbit that made all the other rabbits fight when you were near them (troublemaker? You?) Or how you gave me the most wonderful Flashlettes- Flash’s grandchildren. You gave me seven priceless gifts. Even though you’re not here, they are, and your memory will always linger on for the amazing personality of yours, and the amazing personalities you brought to us.
I feel entirely indebted to you, to be honest Sandy. You gave me an amazing gift and I feel that I never quite repaid that. And then to not be there at the end just plain sucks (for me) but it looks like it may have been peaceful for you- I hope with everything in me that it was.
So what do I do now lady?
Every time I go out expect to see you begging (yes, you were a huge foody, remember? The only thing you thought was yucky was green pepper and your face was priceless), or being chased by Roger.
He misses you so much Sandy but you may see him sooner than we expected- we are struggling to identify what his problem is and I don’t think it’s fair to go overboard on it because with you he wouldn’t have coped, let alone without you.
You’re going to be cremated at the lovely place Dopey 2 was and then come home. One day your ashes will be mixed with Roger’s. Then you’ll be together forever.
Thank you lady, for coming into my life and waiting for me to realise I wanted you. I really hope you did have a blast here and had your dreams came true.
Love always.
X
