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Seeing Thestrals
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I mentioned in the last post how I had been surprised by my friends in a pet store– allowed to pick out my very own bunny rabbit. There were two beautiful black “lion head” bunnies, affectionately called “lion heads” because of their poufy mane-like fur. The employee at the pet store asked if I wanted to hold on, and placed it in my arms. I immediately feel in love. Its small warm body molded to my arms, and I could feel its little heart beating. The other bunny looked almost identical, although a little larger and its fur seemed to be fuller. To be honest, it looked healthier and more lively. I couldn’t decide which one to get. I asked my friends and they leaned towards the livelier one. Even the employee (when I asked), preferred that one. But for some reason I had already become quite partial to the smaller, almost sicklier one. Maybe I could see myself in it for some reason. But because I am easily influenced, I chose the stronger one. But then after a few minutes of contemplation, my indecisiveness was taking over and something inside of me really wanted the other one, so a switch-a-roo occurred. In the car ride home, I thought once again– maybe I should have picked the other one. But these thoughts faded soon, as I petted the little furry mass in my lap. That night we put the little bunny in the cage we had all ready, complete with a Tiki house made of wood and hay that it could gnaw on, a carrot-shaped feeding bowl, a water bowl and litter box. We watched it for a little while, and then my friend tried to pick it up, but there was some watery poop in its hind end, so she put it back. I immediately thought to the rabbit books and websites I had read before (when I had previously owned a rabbit). Diarrhea in rabbits is very serious, and often fatal if not treated within the first 24 hours. However, I convinced myself that it was fine, possibly a little bit of an upset stomach. It was afterall transitioning to a new home, and naturally would be stressed. And it was still rather lively in its cage.

I awoke the next morning to find the bunny lying in its food bowl. I could see its chest moving up and down. As I got closer to the cage and looked at it, it didn’t move. I found this behavior odd, as normally rabbits are very receptive to sound and movement and perk up. But once again, I thought maybe it was tired from its big adventure. I reached in the cage to pick it up, and it barely resisted me at all. It weakly tried to kick its legs, but that was all. Now I began to realize this behavior was not normal at all. I gently set it down on the padded floor of the cage, and it didn’t move at all. Its heart was still beating and I could see its chest move up and down, but it seemed drained and sickly. I tried to pick it up again to see what was ailing it, but then it squeaked, a terrible mournful squeak that I cannot get out of my head. From my previous readings and experience, I knew that rabbits rarely ever made sounds, especially squeaks, except when in pain or extreme agitation. And I let it alone. I quickly went upstairs to the computer to research something I could do. I found that sometimes baby bunnies developed diarrhea because their gastrointenstianl systems are very delicate. The diarrhea can be fatal without immediate attention and it causes them to be dehyraded. I then found a mixture of water, sugar and salt that was supposed to help. I quickly gathered the ingredients and prepared to feed it to the bunny. I went downstairs, and the bunny still lied there, exactly where I left it. I tried to pick it up again, and its body was limp. I tried to let it drink some of the solution, but it was too late. Its heart had ceased to beat, and I held a dead fuzzy bunny rabbit in my arms.

I was rather sad and hysterical about the whole ordeal, i.e. I was in the middle of a pet store, holding a box with a deceased bunny rabbit inside, hysterically crying. I am lucky my friend was with me, as she explained to the employees what was going on. They probably thought that I was rather crazy, as I had only known and been in the company of this little furry creature for a matter of hours, but it was seeing its furry body limp in the box. And knowing that it must have died a terrible death, in a strange cage, with a giant strange asian girl looking at it, in a strange house, without its mother and siblings.

But I must follow my own mantra of getting over things. I overanalyze and think too much. There are too many what-ifs in the world. And I know this, yet my mind cannot help but drift to them. For now, I must remember what I have previously wrote. “All good things must come to an end (in this case the end came very, very quickly)” and I need to move on. Right now, my friends are planning on getting me a new rabbit. I don’t know if I’m ready now, but we’ll see. I only wish the first attempt had worked out.