I haven’t posted here at any point before now, so my guy gets a sad intro. Halen was a Rex of some description: small standard, big mini, or a mix of the two I’ll never know, and it didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was velvet-furred, jet black, blind as a bat (or at least nearsighted,) and ten tons of personality in a little six pound body. Even in his senior years, he had a lot to say, and he said it in no uncertain terms. Healthy snacks would get a stare that practically screamed “Really?” (never mind that he’d eat them later and pause if caught in the act,) but if you happened to have Wheat Thins, watch out: he’d steal them right out of your mouth if he thought he could get away with it. Fussing and arguing were not tolerated in his presence; as soon as there was a solid pause for breath, a loud “Shut up” thump filled the silence. Every clinic he went to (granted, it was only 3) let me know that the fuzzy little ham had made an impression when it was time to take him home. Right up until the end, the vet tech mentioned she’d never seen a rabbit lick as much as he did. This little critter was with me from the time I found a grumpy six-week-old black ball of fluff in a cage among his larger white brothers and decided that right there was mine, to three days ago, when he was humanely euthanized at 12 years old. 

In that time, we saw each other through a lot. When I scrambled to get myself together and out of an abusive family situation, he was with me. When I lost contact with the members of that family who weren’t abusive thanks to coming out of the closet, Halen was still with me. When my living situation with a friend soured and I ended up a few steps from homeless, I still had him. No matter how bad things got, that bunny just wanted to cuddle, lick my face, steal treats, and, on occasion, bite me on the butt if he thought I wasn’t paying enough attention to him. For my part, I did everything I could to keep him comfortable in his old age. Pain meds for his arthritis, good food, greens, exercise, and when the furnace quit, he’d get bundled into a towel and sleep in the bed with me to stay warm until I could get him his own heater. About a week ago, I noticed him losing weight and looking a bit… well… long in the tooth, so I called the clinic to ask for an estimate on teeth trimming. A day before his appointment, he’d become this skinny, pained little ghost of a bunny who could barely hop straight and wouldn’t even bother with his litterbox. I immediately got him far stronger pain meds, but even on the highest allowed dose, he was hunched, ill, and wobbly when he went to see the vet. Teeth trimming by itself would have been risky at best, and would have done little for the pain. The only options were to keep him on heavy meds and attempt to buy him an uncomfortable month or two, or euthanize him that day. The choice was obvious. Little man had an all he could eat Wheat Thin buffet, objected to his anesthetic shot, and went to sleep being petted and told what a good boy he was and what a good job he’d done. Right up until he lost the necessary muscle control, he licked my hand… and after that, he tooth purred a little bit. 

Saying I’ve been a mess since then is an understatement. When I can get in gear and get anything done at all, I’m on autopilot and a complete zombie. Unfortunately, about a month before Halen passed, my roommates talked me into getting a young rabbit so I’d have a furry thing when he finally went. I wasn’t real sure of this new rabbit and was just starting to settle in with having him as a part of my life when the worst happened. Now, 3 days later, the connection with this new bunny feels blown. I’m having to force myself to go near him at all. He’s cute, and reasonably friendly, but he’s not the opinionated cuddle bunny Halen was. He may get more cuddly, especially after he’s fixed (the rabbit was from a friend of a friend, sorta, not from a pet store, and bunnies are hard to find in shelters that incessantly push feral cats,) but I don’t want to resent him if he doesn’t. And the more I sort things out (Halen was my first rabbit, so it’s new to me,) the more I find I need a rabbit that likes attention. I’m pushing through and taking care of the new bun, and trying to bond with him, but I’ve got slim to no idea of what to do with this situation other than give it (and the new rabbit) a chance and see where it goes from there.