Bunnies Aren't Supposed to Die

9:24 PM Edit This 3 Comments »
His soul was a gentle one. Never a nip or scratch. He'd rest so still, seeming to enjoy grooming. He was the bun that sat on my lap as I spun. Sometimes straight from his back... because I could and sometimes just to be there as if to say spinning isn't all that solitary.

He was one of my favorite residents in the Love Shack. Always patient when waiting for his breakfast. Never greedy when taking a treat. It was a pleasure to watch him with my grandchildren. He was one of the trusted few that would let clumsy hands experience the beauty of a rabbit souls.

Funny, his name, Rhett Butler. It really didn't suit him. He was nothing like the man in Gone With the Wind. He never tainted a lovely doe's reputation. He was not outspoken in actions... But he was Rhett none-the-less.

I pray he died peacefully, sometime between his morning meal and the couple of hours later when he was discovered, it was his turn to come in for grooming and bunny love time. He was young, I'll forever wonder why he was gone so soon. No sign of discomfort, no signs of wool block, illness. However, rabbits are prey animals and they show no signs of weakness if at all possible.

I have reassessed all the other buns, can I be missing something. I've removed his cage from the rack where he lived. There is an empty spot that will never be filled again; not in my bunny heart.

Rest well Rhett Butler, you handsome man, you stole my heart, how could I stop loving you!