through good times and bad…

Posted by Sara in Weddings.

Who would think that 3 weeks into it we’d already be dealing with getting through the “bad times” together?

On Friday, D and I took our beloved lop rabbit, Benny, to the nearby park to play and enjoy the beautiful weather. Everything was going well until something spooked her and she freaked out (what it was, we’re still unsure of). We got her back in her carrier, and tried to calm her down…

We noticed that something was wrong after trying to get her back out of her carrier, so we took her back to the apartment. When we let her out, she wasn’t hopping on one of her hind legs. It was bent at a funny angle and we knew something was wrong, so we called the vet and rushed her there immediately.

After reviewing the X-rays, we had 2 choices: attempt to have them do a reconstructive surgery, or have them amputate the back leg. There was only a 50% chance that the reconstruction would work, so begrudgingly, we opted for the amputation.

We got a call late yesterday afternoon from the doctor. He said the surgery took longer than they expected and it was more complicated than he thought, but she woke up. They said she seemed OK and they would call us to check in the next day.

This morning, around 8:45 a.m., we got a call. It was from the doctor on call. He wanted to let us know that the stress of the surgery was just too much for Benny and she passed away, sometime in the night.

Needless to say, we’re devastated. I’m sure it might be difficult for some people to understand how one can get so attached to a rabbit, but if you knew Benny, you’d understand. She would snuggle with us, play, and was as good as any cat or dog. Benny has been a good friend, a loyal companion, and a part of our little family. Like any pet, Benny showed such unconditional love that it’s so hard to think that she was without us last night when she passed, when she needed us most.

We buried her tonight. With fall in full swing on the East coast, it was already dark when we finally pulled back into my parent’s driveway after the 40 minute drive to the vet and the 40 minute drive back. I didn’t even have to tell D what I was thinking: he pulled my car up onto the lawn and left the headlights. We parked, to shine some light on the hole he had already dug earlier that afternoon.

The drive to the vet was difficult, but actually going inside, holding Benny’s towel and waiting for them to bring her out was worse. I don’t know what I expected– I guess due to my ignorance, I assumed they would just give her to us, in a state of stiff sleep-likeness, but as many of you may already know, this is not “official” procedure.

“Official procedure” is putting your pet in a plastic bag, and then in whatever box it fits in.

When the woman told us this, I almost lost it. The idea of her in a plastic bag just ripped my heart to pieces. We asked she be taken out of the bag and wrapped in her towel. I said I could do it myself if she didn’t want to. She said it was OK, she would do it– it wouldn’t be a good idea if I did it myself.

I had been prepping myself all afternoon to have to hold Benny’s little lifeless body in my lap for a long carride home. Instead, I carried a large cardboad box that they packaged her in. Again, this made me feel even worse, and I cried harder than I probably would have if she just be in my arms. We must have been a pretty miserable site, because the technician on gave me a hug. For the first half of the carride, all I could do was cry, and a small part of me hoped maybe they made a mistake and Benny would start rustling around.

By the second half of the carride, I stopped crying and just stared straight ahead, distancing myself from what was actually in the box. I tried to pretend I was just carrying a random package. I tried to pretend that this was not our Baby Girl.

When we got to the house, we got out of the car and made our way to Benny’s site. D opened the box and they had her wrapped up completely, nothing of her poking out. I guess it was better this way, but I wanted to see her one last time. I don’t know what’s worse: the memory of seeing her at the vet, shaking and scared, or if it would have been even more horrible to see her dead– I don’t know if that would have better or worse, you know? If she would have seemed peaceful or… well, dead.

So Donnie placed her into her grave, which we had already filled with her favorite hay and her grass mat, her two favorite toys, and a photo of us. We both said a few things to her and then that was it… Donnie told me to go inside and he started to put the Earth back over her. My mom must have seen us outside and so she came out and she cried and I cried some more before we went back into the house. I watched D from the kitchen in the headlights, finishing laying our little one to rest.

I will be the first one to tell you that I just don’t handle death well. I know it’s not really something anyone can boast handling all that great, but no matter how tough/strong I may come across, I just can’t handle death, especially of something that is innocent.

Benny was 6, which isn’t that young, but she still could have lived to be 10 or 12 years old. And I know accidents happen and rabbits are delicate, but I just keep kicking myself for the stupid idea of bringing her outside on a leash and the stupid idea of going to a park near a roadway where there were so many noises. I don’t know what spooked her– we’ll never know, and I know I can’t stop beating myself up about it. But I was so damned determined to let her experience the outside that now she’s gone. She’s gone, and I miss her.

There are worse things in the world, I know. There are people who lose their husbands, wives, fathers, and mothers on a daily basis. I am so fearful for those days in my life. But there is something just so heartbreaking when you lose a pet– someone who loved you unconditionally and whom you loved unconditionally.

I think back to when I got Benny 6 years ago and how much has changed in that time– many of my friends have changed, the people that I know. The circumstances in my life– the health of my mother. I have experienced great loss, wonderful triumphs, met my husband, forged new friendships, moved to new places. And all the while, Benny was there, nudging me along, seeking my hand to scratch her sweet little head.

I know that there will be other wonderful pets in my life, and that things happen for a reason. I know Benny lived a good, happy life and that she knows how much we loved her. We were bonded to her, and she was bonded to us. Aside from the last few days, I don’t think she ever experienced any real pain or upset in her life. She was a good girl, and we spoiled her as much as we good.

And I know that we will get through this, Donnie and I, together– we have experienced the first “bad time” as husband and wife, and D held my hand the entire time. It was difficult to go through, so horrible to get that early morning phone call, but it was a comfort to know that my husband knew how I felt because he loved her just as much as I did.

And that as much as he was hurting, he wanted to try to protect me from as much of the painful stuff that came with losing a loved one, especially the kind of the four-legged variety, even if that meant doing some of the more painful stuff himself. 

Unconditional love is an amazing thing– it makes you devastated when you lose it, but grateful when a devastating situation makes you realize that you have it, too.

 

Good night friends, and good night to our dear Benny.

 

 

Weddings |