the resting place
August 16, 2008 l 1 Comment
Our spot in the woods, to sit and remember…
Happy Birthday, Peanut
June 4, 2008 l 3 Comments
My dearest angel bunny -
You would have been eight years old today. It’s been almost nine months since you left, but we still miss you so much.
You were and are the incomparable Mighty Pea.
With love from your human family, and nose rubs from Rex.
Vote for Peanut!
January 10, 2008 l Comments Off
Rate a shot of the late, great Peanut Divamuffin and maybe help me get a cool prize. Really, it’s a win/win 
q&a on caring for disabled rabbits
January 4, 2008 l 1 Comment
from Rabbits Online:
a. What is your rabbit’s name and condition(illness)?
Peanut; she had a head tilt, facial palsy (paralysis on one side of her face), and vestibular (inner ear) damage that caused serious balance issues.
b. What special things do you need to do for your rabbit on a regular basis?
When Peanut first became ill I was her 24/7 nurse. She needed to be handfed, medicated, and cleaned. Because she could barely walk without rolling wildly, for her own safety she was confined to an excercise pen with crib bumpers along the sides. Her bedding needed to be changed daily, as she couldn’t make it to the litterbox. And of course, she needed a lot of loving and reassurance.
As she grew stronger and re-learned how to stand, walk, hop and clean herself, her care became less involved. Her head tilt never fully went away but she adapted so well that caring for her became as routine as caring for my ‘normal’ rabbit. Because she had some minor balance issues, she needed to always be on carpet (so she wouldn’t slip) and have a low-entry litterbox.
c. What things do you sometimes have to do for your rabbits?
Butt baths were always a constant with Peanut. She just wasn’t coordinated enough to consistently clean herself. Those were usually a few times a month, as needed.
d. How much time per day do you spend taking care of your rabbit?
During the first few months of her illness, I’d easily spend several hours taking care of her. Once she started to recover, then it wouldn’t be much more than an hour of maintenance-type things, like cleaning bedding or medicating.
e. I was on a disabled bunnies list once and they talked about knowing when to let you rabbit go. They said to judge it by the three a’s ~ is the rabbit alert, affectionate (with other humans) and does it have an appetite and enjoy its food. How is your rabbit doing in these three areas?
Well, Peanut was put to sleep this past September, so I can answer from the “other side” of things.
Peanut had been doing really well for almost a year. She had a head tilt and some minor balance issues, but otherwise, she was “normal”. And she was a very, very happy rabbit. Then in September, her head tilt somewhat miraculously…disappeared. I was excited, but in the back of my mind, I knew even then that something wasn’t quite right. Peanut’s head was on straight, but with it all of her old balance problems had come back, she was sleeping almost constantly and she lacked her usual enthusiasm.
I took the bunnies to the vet the following Tuesday for their annual exam. Just the day before I had noticed that Peanut’s appetite had dropped off and she had started grinding her teeth. X-rays of Peanut’s head revealed molar roots growing deep into her jaw and an inner ear enlarged to over twice its normal size. The vet also diagnosed a significant heart murmer, making Peanut a poor candidate for surgery.
I spent most of that night crying. Every part of me didn’t want to believe it, but I knew. I couldn’t put her through anymore tests or invasive procedures. Peanut was sick and she wasn’t going to get better this time. She went downhill with stunning rapidity. She was no longer alert, did not have an appetite, and while she never lost her affectionate nature, I knew that she was very ill and very tired. On Friday, I brought her back to the vets to be euthanized.
f. Do you ever have a hard time being a caregiver to a rabbit with these needs?
Absolutely! I can’t tell you how many times I’d cry in the car on the way home from yet another trip to the vet. I knew that Peanut was frustrated and not feeling well, and that tore me up inside. And, frankly, there’s a special kind of exhaustian that comes from constantly cleaning and feeding and medicating and cleaning and…you get the idea. It’s not an easy job. It’s worth it, but if it’s going to work, then you need to remember to care for yourself too. I was no use to Peanut when I was snappy and impatient.
g. What advice would you give to someone who has just discovered that their rabbit has a condition that means they will be a ‘special needs’ bunny?
My best advice is: let them guide you.
When you look merely at their diagnosis or their conditions, disabled bunnies are very sad. But rabbits have an amazing spirit and often lead very fulfilling lives in the face of serious challenges. If you’re ever in doubt about what direction to take, just spend some quality time with your bunny down on their level. For over a year Peanut lived with serious mobility issues and made it very clear she was not ready to give up. And in September, when she became really ill, she made it equally clear that she was ready to go. But you have to know your bunny to know what to do.
a Christmas gift
December 27, 2007 l 3 Comments
from my little sister:
we still would live no other way
October 20, 2007 l 1 Comment
First, I want to say Thank You to John, Linda, Kh. Michelle, Tamara, and the many others of you out there in internet land who have taken the time to say a kind word and offer support during this time. It has certainly been a difficult few weeks for our family.
Today I logged on to my flickr page to see a wonderfully touching comment someone had left on Peanut’s photo:
Peanut continues to touch people. Folks you don’t even know have shed tears with you….we saw your love for this bundle of fur…we experienced care. Bless you all.
~ ~ ~
“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives
even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle,
easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we still would live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only certain immortality,
never fully understanding the necessary plan.”
- Irving Townsend
not better, just different
October 8, 2007 l 3 Comments
Life without Peanut.
After she first got sick last year, I didn’t allow myself to think about the “before”; it made the present even more difficult to bear. This past week I have been thinking about Peanut pre-tilt. She was a strong, solid, active bundle of fur, and when her body began to weaken her bright personality really shone through. But I realize that, physically speaking, she had not been strong or healthy for over a year.
And I think that Rex knew that. When I look back on his behavior changes this past year, he really became a caregiver as much as a companion. I believe he has grieved for Peanut but I think that perhaps the loss was not entirely surprising.
He is doing well. He has become a little more relaxed yet still runs around excitedly at breakfast time, flops out on his side in the middle of the room for a nap, and melts for nose rubs.
And I have re-discovered one very interesting fact: he’s a neatnik.
He was pretty fastidious before Peanut came along, but I figured he picked up on her bad habits. As it turns out she really was the messy one. I haven’t vacuumed up a single stray poop all week. Peanut, I miss you sweetie. But that? I don’t miss at all. I think you understand.
Linda said: Your house definitely needs a bunny in it! Mine does too I think (when we can). You’re not gonna get another one?
If you mean another bunny after Rex is gone, then I’d say most definitely yes. If you mean another bunny as a companion for Rex…well, I’ll share something we’ve noticed in our household of many, many pets.
The pets that have been absolutely perfect for our family are the pets that we have either prayed for specifically, or else *knew* that they we should absolutely bring them home. Every time.
The pets that we have either had to rehome or have caused us the most heartache are the ones that we sought out or otherwise brought home without really thinking and praying over the situation. Every time.
So with that said, I have not felt that this is the right time to bring another rabbit home. Maybe that will change at some point, or maybe just the right bunny will hop into our lives. Rex was three years old when we brought two year old Peanut home from the shelter. On the surface she seemed like an illogical choice: an overweight, unspayed, cage aggressive lop with a serious diva complex.
But I had been praying over the decision to get a second rabbit for months, and when I finally decided to seek her out I just knew that she was the right bunny. I’ve never regretted that decision and I do believe something like that could happen again. And it could be a split-second decision: I hadn’t been expecting to add four cats to the household, but when I locked eyes with Scully I knew she and her kittens would have a home with us. I trust that if it’s going to happen I will know that it’s the right time and the right rabbit.
all the small things
October 3, 2007 l 3 Comments
Rex was, for the first time, excited for breakfast this morning, running circles around the room as I got out the bag of food. I realized this morning that I’ve been overfeeding him; I guess I haven’t quite gotten the hang of feeding just one rabbit.
It’s strange…less than a week and, while it feels like forever, I still find myself looking for her. I clean the litterboxes, and don’t have a bunny at my heels trying to bite holes in the garbage bag. I catch myself calling out, “C’mere bunnies!” as I dish out breakfast, only to realize there isn’t anyone fighting Rex for a spot at the bowl.
The littlest things can catch you off guard. The empty crate still sitting in the corner. The canister of Critical Care on the counter, next to the sink. The x-rays and vet bill from a final visit laid on the dining room table.
I don’t want to change things because I don’t want to feel like I’m rushing the process…but the fact is, with this loss comes necessary adjustments. Some of those changes are significant; giving Rex added one-on-one time as well as finding things that will keep him occupied when I’m not around (note to self: buy more grass mats). Some of those changes are minor, like serving a daily fresh greens salad, which I couldn’t do before because it would upset Peanut’s tummy.
I miss her. Every day. And as hard as it’s been to see Rex also going through this difficult time, I don’t think I’d be doing as well if I didn’t have him around. This house would just be too empty without a bunny in it.
the way things are
October 2, 2007 l 4 Comments
Most of the Geography/Anthropology students know each other fairly well and we hang out in the department between our classes; in the course of conversation today we started talking about dreams. I had a dream about Peanut last night. She was doing really well, recovering from her ailments, eating, drinking and hopping about as usual. I was so happy that she felt better. Everything in the dream seemed so real – the room was brighter and sunnier. I even remember being thrilled that she was peeing in the litterbox, which between her weakness and dehydration, she was not able to do near the end.
When I woke up, I knew it wasn’t real. The room was dark, and the quiet emptiness I’ve felt since Friday returned. Rex is such a silent rabbit compared to Peanut’s constant activity and noise. I almost feel like I want to buy him the loudest toys I can find, just so that I can hear him and know he’s okay.
It is so cathartic to be able to speak openly about loss and pain, rather than keeping inside and falling apart in the car, or in bed at night. I hate to sound as though I am only consumed with sadness, because I do still have Rex and the other pets who I adore completely. But I also want to acknowledge that losing Peanut has been very difficult, and the depth of grief that I have felt is very real.
Yesterday I put together a gift basket for the vet’s office in Peanut’s memory, with a framed photo, Craisins (her favorite treat), chocolate kisses and a Thank You card. They have been so incredibly kind to us and I couldn’t have asked for better care.
Then I came home today to find a card from them: Dear Emily and family, in your time of loss we would like to send our sympathy and understanding. From all of us at VCA Animal Medical Center.
