My Fievel Bear died this past Friday. He had been battling an ear infection for close to a month and on top of getting ear drops and metacam daily, he was getting weekly cleans with an otoscope. While he never really seemed like he had an ear infection (no head shaking or grumpiness or anything!), it wasn’t getting any better. On Wednesday morning, I dropped him off at the vet to do another ear cleaning, although this time with a video otoscope so that she could be even more thorough. He was under anesthesia for about 2 hours and woke up fine, although not eating or pooping which was completely expected. They ended up keeping him over night so they could force feed him and I picked him up the next day. They did sub-q fluids and he was HUGE, but he came home and pooped a bit. I still had to force feed him and set an alarm for every two hours through the night, but eventually he stopped pooping again. I think I cried about a billion tears that night because I knew he didn’t feel well, but I also knew that he would be ok if he just had food in him. We had been through so many blockages- a few being very serious- and he managed to come out just fine after lots of care. The next morning, I took him back to the vet for motility drugs (which he had NEVER been on, even with his worst blockages) and some more pain meds. He ended up having a seizure when the vet was checking on him. They tried to resuscitate, but to no avail.
I am so upset by his passing. If someone had told me earlier this week that I would be ending the week without him, I never would have believed it. He had an ear infection– and an outer ear infection at that and was being treated by an absolutely amazing doctor who I trust implicitly. He just turned two years old in November. I always thought that, provided he gets vet care, he would be around for 10 more years. I thought that I would have him when I get married and when I start having human kids.
I am going into finals week- my last finals week ever. I got Fievel when I first transferred to this school, maybe a week or two into my first semester here. And he left me a week before I have to move. I was so excited to move and get on with my life and have him and my other bunny, V, be so happy in our new apartment. I feel so guilty now and feel like when I leave here next Saturday, I am leaving him behind.
I think that I gave him the best life possible. I take comfort in the fact that he died with the vet, where he would have had the best chance of survival. I know there was nothing that anyone could have done and strangely, I feel completely at peace in that sense. I just miss him so much… I completely ache for him and feel as though nothing will fill this hole in my heart.
I have no idea what V is feeling right now. They were not bonded, per say, but rarely left each other’s sides. Only one was let out at a time and they spent their time out next to each other’s cages, usually flopped or grooming. V is staying close to me and staying close to Fievel’s cage and looks at the door often.
Even though I wish that Fievel’s final hours were more comfortable, I am extremely thankful for the fact that I was able to hold him and talk to him all night- something which I would not have been able to do if he was feeling well. I am also happy that this semester has been crazy with the amount of assignments to do. I was able to spend the majority of my time at home, on the floor with Fievel running around me, and doing my papers rather than being stuck in the field and in class.