DandsRulesOK
New Kit
My lionhead rabbit Dandelion (Dands) died three months ago of a tooth abscess aged 2 and a half years. This is going to sound far-out to a lot of people but today I had an appointment with an animal telepath who communicated with his soul, having convinced me of her veracity by telling me how Dands died, what his previous owner used to call him (in my hearing) and even telling me through him what side of the bed I sleep on. I'd expected Dands to have only sweet things to say to me but in fact he was very harsh and critical of me and his previous keeper and had many words of advice that he wanted me to pass on to other rabbit-keepers, hence this post.
I should let you know that he first started getting sick, initially with G.I stasis, the day after a possibility arose that I might move to the states. I'd been worried because I didn't want to rehome him but didn't see how I could take him with me and I remember that the next day when I saw that he'd stopped eating I wondered if he'd read my mind. I'd had a sense a few months earlier, relaxing with him on my bed one afternoon, that he was very sad and forlorn and that it had to do with being moved around a few times in his young life and that he felt like a little ship being flung about on a stormy sea and I made a promise to him then in my mind that that would never happen to him again, a promise that I was now considering breaking.
This is what the animal communicator relayed to me: 'I felt like a parcel being moved about. I died because I didn't want to be farmed out. I stopped my heart. I'm better here in Heaven. I can make my own decisions.'
A note on how he died: he was put down with an anaesthetic but the phrase 'I stopped my heart' sounds apt when I remember how he was the days before he died. It was as if he'd given up and his heart literally wasn't in being alive anymore.
He also said, 'I'm tired of the human race.' To me personally - and probably to his previous keeper too - he said, 'I read you, I knew your insecurities. I was sensitive to you, you were only sensitive to me when it suited you. This is a hard truth.
'Rabbits - me - are not disposable commodities. I wanted you to love me forever. I wanted us to grow old together.'
When asked for his advice about keeping rabbits he said, 'Yes, capital! Listen to them. Give them your time not your money. We do care about Love and Companionship (capitalised to the communicator). We need to be with our own kind to feel good about ourselves. Never one on their own again.'
Of our relationship he said that he'd felt particularly close to me on the bed (where I used to massage him and take naps next to him and where, interestingly, I had that time of feeling this sadness coming off him about having been shunted around so much). 'We had moments of deep, heartfelt connection but these were rare. I could have taught you so much but I needed more of your time and patience. Will you patient with your new rabbit?'
On his life's purpose: 'My life's purpose was to have a happy life. This was not so. I felt misunderstood. I will come back and try again. You tried to make me happy but I wanted more of your time. This was what was most important to me.'
I asked how humans might learn to communicate with rabbits. He emphasized that I (in particular) needed to trust not just my ability to receive thoughts but that animals are sending them in the first place. 'Trust that animals are expressing something to you. Rely on feelings. As rabbits we are very sensitive creatures. Connect with that sensitivity in a positive way. Believe what you're feeling.'
I asked him if he'd missed his previous owner (I felt that he had). He said no, he'd felt disappointed and 'betrayed' because she gave him up. When I asked the communicator to tell him that she'd had to give him up because her new landlord wouldn't let her keep him he said, 'If she'd loved me she'd have found somewhere else to live.'
I'd sensed some friction between him and my new boyfriend and asked him what he thought of him. The communicator said that he sent her an image of me on the right side of the bed without my boyfriend in it and that he was trying to blank my boyfriend out. She said that Dands seemed as if he'd been jealous and upset about the demands my new boyfriend made on my time. 'He's not good enough,' was his verdict on him. Also, 'You will be disappointed.'
On being neutered: 'I was horrified.'
On neutering a female rabbit who will otherwise get pregnant or contract ovarian cancer, 'Ask her.'
I apologized for having let him down and the conversation finished on a gentler note: 'I do love you. I always have.' (?)
I hope that people will find this post interesting and bear in mind Dands' advice if applicable. I was left with a sense that Dands, and probably all rabbits, need more time, respect, commitment and real love from their keepers than they often get.
I should let you know that he first started getting sick, initially with G.I stasis, the day after a possibility arose that I might move to the states. I'd been worried because I didn't want to rehome him but didn't see how I could take him with me and I remember that the next day when I saw that he'd stopped eating I wondered if he'd read my mind. I'd had a sense a few months earlier, relaxing with him on my bed one afternoon, that he was very sad and forlorn and that it had to do with being moved around a few times in his young life and that he felt like a little ship being flung about on a stormy sea and I made a promise to him then in my mind that that would never happen to him again, a promise that I was now considering breaking.
This is what the animal communicator relayed to me: 'I felt like a parcel being moved about. I died because I didn't want to be farmed out. I stopped my heart. I'm better here in Heaven. I can make my own decisions.'
A note on how he died: he was put down with an anaesthetic but the phrase 'I stopped my heart' sounds apt when I remember how he was the days before he died. It was as if he'd given up and his heart literally wasn't in being alive anymore.
He also said, 'I'm tired of the human race.' To me personally - and probably to his previous keeper too - he said, 'I read you, I knew your insecurities. I was sensitive to you, you were only sensitive to me when it suited you. This is a hard truth.
'Rabbits - me - are not disposable commodities. I wanted you to love me forever. I wanted us to grow old together.'
When asked for his advice about keeping rabbits he said, 'Yes, capital! Listen to them. Give them your time not your money. We do care about Love and Companionship (capitalised to the communicator). We need to be with our own kind to feel good about ourselves. Never one on their own again.'
Of our relationship he said that he'd felt particularly close to me on the bed (where I used to massage him and take naps next to him and where, interestingly, I had that time of feeling this sadness coming off him about having been shunted around so much). 'We had moments of deep, heartfelt connection but these were rare. I could have taught you so much but I needed more of your time and patience. Will you patient with your new rabbit?'
On his life's purpose: 'My life's purpose was to have a happy life. This was not so. I felt misunderstood. I will come back and try again. You tried to make me happy but I wanted more of your time. This was what was most important to me.'
I asked how humans might learn to communicate with rabbits. He emphasized that I (in particular) needed to trust not just my ability to receive thoughts but that animals are sending them in the first place. 'Trust that animals are expressing something to you. Rely on feelings. As rabbits we are very sensitive creatures. Connect with that sensitivity in a positive way. Believe what you're feeling.'
I asked him if he'd missed his previous owner (I felt that he had). He said no, he'd felt disappointed and 'betrayed' because she gave him up. When I asked the communicator to tell him that she'd had to give him up because her new landlord wouldn't let her keep him he said, 'If she'd loved me she'd have found somewhere else to live.'
I'd sensed some friction between him and my new boyfriend and asked him what he thought of him. The communicator said that he sent her an image of me on the right side of the bed without my boyfriend in it and that he was trying to blank my boyfriend out. She said that Dands seemed as if he'd been jealous and upset about the demands my new boyfriend made on my time. 'He's not good enough,' was his verdict on him. Also, 'You will be disappointed.'
On being neutered: 'I was horrified.'
On neutering a female rabbit who will otherwise get pregnant or contract ovarian cancer, 'Ask her.'
I apologized for having let him down and the conversation finished on a gentler note: 'I do love you. I always have.' (?)
I hope that people will find this post interesting and bear in mind Dands' advice if applicable. I was left with a sense that Dands, and probably all rabbits, need more time, respect, commitment and real love from their keepers than they often get.
