I just wish that I could've given him a better life. You know, cared more about him. Held him. Patted him. Let him run around. Given him those special treats. Added some extra shavings to his cage. But you never know how important these kinds of things are until later.
I don't feel like writing about anything else that's happened since I last updated. Who cares about Mama Mia? Who cares about losing my iPod, celly, DS, whatever else was in my bag? Who cares about sleepovers? Why is it so important?
And why is there so much drama about little things? You like him, he doesn't like you, end of story. She used to be nice, now she's a bitch, period. It's so stupid.
Not when you can come home from your friend's house, from a pedicure, from fun, and learn that in the past - what, 12? - hours that you've been enjoying yourself, one of your family members is dead.
You probably thinking I'm overreacting. Oh, he's just a rabbit. And you know, he really was just a rabbit. But it still hurts.
No, actually, he was more than just a rabbit. He was a life. A life that is gone. But he's going to be creating more life, because we're going to bury him in the backyard and he will become part of the circle of life.
How corny does this sound? I don't care how corny it is, okay? It just hurts really really bad. People who hate me are reading this. They're probably thinking, "Hah, she's crying, she's hurting, serves her right."
So, in order to "serve me right", you're going to extinguish a life?
Goober was an old rabbit. He was a good, old rabbit, six years old - oh my god. I just realized that this morning I was looking at Easter cards at Corinne's house and I saw a card with a picture of a rabbit. "This looks like my rabbit," I said, "except less demonic."
I am so sorry, Goober. I am so so so so so sorry.
I love you. I know I could've shown it better, but I really do love you. And I wish I could show you that.
I'm not going to look at him. The vet had to shave him to determine what had caused him to die, but no conclusion was made. I don't want to remember him as a shaven, pathetic-looking creature. I want to remember him as the handsome, funny rabbit that he was.
In the car, I told Paula (Cori's mom) that my rabbit changes colors. In the winter, he's darker, and in the summer, he's lighter. Right now he's patchy. In between his amazing change.
I'm sorry. I really, truly am.
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1 comment:
Oh my God, I'm so sorry about Goober.
Really, don't feel guilty. He was old, and you wre great to him.
I know how much it sucks when a pet dies, even if it's 'just' a rabbit.
And no one has the right to hate you if they don't know you. And it seems to me that all the people that 'hate' you never even talked to you, and I know how much that sucks.
It's nice that you're going to remember him all cute and furry instead of sick and shaven. I'm really sorry, and I don't believe in god or heaven or anything, but whatever was wrong with him isn't there anymore.
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