On Wednesday I brought my rabbit Sophie to the vet to have her put to sleep. She wasn’t suffering exactly but it had got to where she no longer had much quality of life. It all went well but it was so hard. I had gone through it in my head a dozen times and I knew it would be painful but nothing prepares you for it. It’s like getting punched in the stomach and your whole world imploding all at once. Even when you know it’s the right thing you feel so sorry for doing it. I held her and reassured her until she was gone. It was so hard.
Sophie was my best friend for so many years. She was so sweet and adorable and just the best. She had her own wonderful personality, likes, dislikes and behaviors. I loved her so much. Rabbits are such noble creatures, at once cute and dignified, and they ask for so little. They soak up all the love you give them, and will always forgive you. The chance to cuddle her and know that I was making her feel safe and happy was a privilege. It was just the best feeling. More than anything she was a fantastic friend and companion and I always looked forward to seeing her again when heading home. While I know I did everything possible for her, there will always be guilt about some ways I could have done even more, but these things tend to reveal themselves only in hindsight.
Sophie gave me so much joy over the years. I calculated I must have refilled her water dish 4000 times. She would do a special dance when she wanted her nibbles. She munched her way through many 10 lb. boxes of orchard grass. I went far and wide to buy her only the best hay. She loved mischief. And cuddles, of which she got many. I was diligent in maintaining a steady supply of carrots, parsley and lettuce. She wouldn’t let me come back from the kitchen without a little something for her. It was hard to watch the gradual decline in the past few years, then the effects of E. cuniculi at the end. The illness and loss of any loved one doesn’t just feel sad, but so unjust and unfair.
As hard as that trip to the vet was, the moment she was gone I felt a huge sense of relief and my whole body just released so much that I had been carrying for so many years, the stress, anxiety and worry about her. It was taking a real toll. It’s so weird now not to have a huge chunk of my brain constantly devoted to concern about whether she’s ok, if she has what she needs, etc. I also feel like there’s a huge void in my world now. She was such a big part of me and now that she’s gone I kinda have to create a new me and go on to new things. I’m feeling a little lost.
When my Mom’s dog died we didn’t talk about him much because it was just so painful. I want to do the opposite with Sophie. I want to remember her always and promised her I would. It’s partly because I need to process it all but it’s also my way of thanking her for what she gave me. I miss her so much and can’t believe she’s gone. Luckily I have photos of her from when she was at her best, and things like her dish, her comb, and some fur clippings. I gave the rest away to charity.
My apartment is pretty empty now, while still being full of her. I’m really going to miss her companionship. I’m taking her loss really hard and have been in tears all week. I would be very grateful for any words of comfort, for both myself and especially for Sophie. She always came first.