Dear Angel,
I’m sorry. It’s taken me so long to write this because I am completely heartbroken. I’ve wanted to avoid and not acknowledge the massive void left in our living room.
You were part of the most special litter of bunny babies I ever had. Seven, amazing, strong, curious, quirky babies, who gave me the gift of both Flash, Moon and Sky.
You were born WAY back in June 2007, and, good old Sandy, gave birth to four on one day, and three on the next, and you were on the second day (we think). Angel, Star, Sunny, Lightning, Hope, Dusk and Dawn- that was the order we had to recite you in, to remember all of you- you were first.
You were first because, on the very day you were born, and I didn’t realise you had been, I put my hand into Sandy’s nest, and out you popped and grunted at me, and that actually set the tone for the rest of your life. Now I wonder if that was a nature or nurture thing.
We never expected you all to survive, but you all did.
You were named Angel, after your grandfather, Flash- You had the funny little moustache that he also had, although you had a randomly placed spot. You also had the same black ‘spine’ that he did, with the ‘slipped disk’. As I look at you both together now, you don’t look that similar, but, as babies, you did.
You were, like all the others, absolutely adorable as a baby.
And then you grew, and, the original plan, back when I was ignorant, was to breed from you. Thankfully, we never did that, but what we did discover, was that you were ultra, super dominant, and, with other bunnies, a complete bully. That meant you had to be separated from your siblings, and then, when you were neutered, and we tried to bond you, even the Dopeys found you too much, and they could bond with anyone!
So you had to be moved inside, and you lived a little life of luxury in my room for a while. Then, in 2012, we moved you downstairs, and you have spent the bulk of the last six years in the living room (with the exception of the last 4 months of Sky’s life). And there you stayed.
You were quite a quiet and understated bunny, for the most part. Just gentle, and sometimes cautious with your movements. You’d enjoy lying around like a Prince, and sleeping in your cage. You had your health problems, and many of them, but you were very ok. Sometimes, you weren’t quiet at all, and each morning and evening, you’d have a crazy time of proper big binkies and bunny 500’s. In your youth, when you were still allowed outside, you showed those out there too.
You were also cheeky. Every so often you’d remember you could escape from your area and we’d have a couple of weeks of finding you in all sorts of random places, until we broke the pattern and you ‘forgot’ that you could do it. Then you’d be going back to being a reasonably well-behaved rabbit (if such rabbits exist!)- although you did suss where the pellets were and were not adverse to stealing. You did keep your feistiness though. You would chase, and you would bite, and we had to be super careful to ensure we kept our fingers.
You were incredibly cute to watch, and managed to wrap my dad round your little paw, all the time. He would move, or rustle something, and you’d be over there expecting food, and you’d get it. You lived the high life- alone, yes, but you were still happy and enjoyed yourself.
You started to really struggle with your arthritis, on top of the dental abscesses and respiratory issues, and you’d have acute pain episodes. It was wretched for you. We had so many conversations with the vets about whether or not it was fair to keep you going, or whether this was it, yet you always pulled around, and then we’d have a couple of months with no issues, and then you’d do something to hurt yourself and we’d be off again. Sometimes it was easy to control it and make you pain free, sometimes it took a few days. We always got there in the end.
We hadn’t had an episode to deal with for many months, and then you had on on Saturday 15th September. We seemed to shift it quickly, although you weren’t suite yourself, and then over the next three days, no matter how much we medicated or the fluids we gave, or the heat, or the rest of it, we couldn’t pull you round. It was like your poor little old body had had enough. You were just sleeping more and very not like you. I knew. I told everyone to brace themselves. I hoped that wasn’t the case, and desperately wanted another option, but in my heart I knew.
I made the call. Maybe I should have left you to pass naturally at home, but that scares me- All I want for any of you, is to not suffer. I can make sure that happens at the vets- or, at least, I have more control. I also know you won’t be alone.
So off we went, and had a long conversation, and many tears, and you had cuddles, and then we decided that it was best for you to be allowed to go. My heart broke. And continued to break. But, as she gave you that injection, you just went, very quickly. You were so ready. It was right. But I was heartbroken. We were heart broken.
I’m sorry. It’s taken me so long to write this because I am completely heartbroken. I’ve wanted to avoid and not acknowledge the massive void left in our living room.
You were part of the most special litter of bunny babies I ever had. Seven, amazing, strong, curious, quirky babies, who gave me the gift of both Flash, Moon and Sky.
You were born WAY back in June 2007, and, good old Sandy, gave birth to four on one day, and three on the next, and you were on the second day (we think). Angel, Star, Sunny, Lightning, Hope, Dusk and Dawn- that was the order we had to recite you in, to remember all of you- you were first.
You were first because, on the very day you were born, and I didn’t realise you had been, I put my hand into Sandy’s nest, and out you popped and grunted at me, and that actually set the tone for the rest of your life. Now I wonder if that was a nature or nurture thing.
We never expected you all to survive, but you all did.
You were named Angel, after your grandfather, Flash- You had the funny little moustache that he also had, although you had a randomly placed spot. You also had the same black ‘spine’ that he did, with the ‘slipped disk’. As I look at you both together now, you don’t look that similar, but, as babies, you did.
You were, like all the others, absolutely adorable as a baby.
And then you grew, and, the original plan, back when I was ignorant, was to breed from you. Thankfully, we never did that, but what we did discover, was that you were ultra, super dominant, and, with other bunnies, a complete bully. That meant you had to be separated from your siblings, and then, when you were neutered, and we tried to bond you, even the Dopeys found you too much, and they could bond with anyone!
So you had to be moved inside, and you lived a little life of luxury in my room for a while. Then, in 2012, we moved you downstairs, and you have spent the bulk of the last six years in the living room (with the exception of the last 4 months of Sky’s life). And there you stayed.
You were quite a quiet and understated bunny, for the most part. Just gentle, and sometimes cautious with your movements. You’d enjoy lying around like a Prince, and sleeping in your cage. You had your health problems, and many of them, but you were very ok. Sometimes, you weren’t quiet at all, and each morning and evening, you’d have a crazy time of proper big binkies and bunny 500’s. In your youth, when you were still allowed outside, you showed those out there too.
You were also cheeky. Every so often you’d remember you could escape from your area and we’d have a couple of weeks of finding you in all sorts of random places, until we broke the pattern and you ‘forgot’ that you could do it. Then you’d be going back to being a reasonably well-behaved rabbit (if such rabbits exist!)- although you did suss where the pellets were and were not adverse to stealing. You did keep your feistiness though. You would chase, and you would bite, and we had to be super careful to ensure we kept our fingers.
You were incredibly cute to watch, and managed to wrap my dad round your little paw, all the time. He would move, or rustle something, and you’d be over there expecting food, and you’d get it. You lived the high life- alone, yes, but you were still happy and enjoyed yourself.
You started to really struggle with your arthritis, on top of the dental abscesses and respiratory issues, and you’d have acute pain episodes. It was wretched for you. We had so many conversations with the vets about whether or not it was fair to keep you going, or whether this was it, yet you always pulled around, and then we’d have a couple of months with no issues, and then you’d do something to hurt yourself and we’d be off again. Sometimes it was easy to control it and make you pain free, sometimes it took a few days. We always got there in the end.
We hadn’t had an episode to deal with for many months, and then you had on on Saturday 15th September. We seemed to shift it quickly, although you weren’t suite yourself, and then over the next three days, no matter how much we medicated or the fluids we gave, or the heat, or the rest of it, we couldn’t pull you round. It was like your poor little old body had had enough. You were just sleeping more and very not like you. I knew. I told everyone to brace themselves. I hoped that wasn’t the case, and desperately wanted another option, but in my heart I knew.
I made the call. Maybe I should have left you to pass naturally at home, but that scares me- All I want for any of you, is to not suffer. I can make sure that happens at the vets- or, at least, I have more control. I also know you won’t be alone.
So off we went, and had a long conversation, and many tears, and you had cuddles, and then we decided that it was best for you to be allowed to go. My heart broke. And continued to break. But, as she gave you that injection, you just went, very quickly. You were so ready. It was right. But I was heartbroken. We were heart broken.
what a lovely tribute to a very special rabbit 
