My rabbit died on Friday morning. The reason is a bit mysterious. My dad says he died of fright/heart attack – neighbors lighting fireworks pre-Fourth of July, dogs barking, etc. I wonder if he ingested something sharp (it’s getting harder for my parents to vacuum properly, the older they get).
My dad disposed of the body before I could reach home and take it to the vet for an autopsy.
Does it sound like I blame my dad? A little. He had refused to feed Carty greens at first, no matter what evidence I put before him as to why they need greens. Until I took him to the vet and the vet said Carty’s tummy was much too hard and stuffed.
I blame myself more. Carty was still a baby, and liked it when you spent a lot of time petting him, hanging out with him. Rabbits are social animals. My parent are not that kind of pet owners – not the type who would give cuddles and pets. They weren’t that kind of parent either, but that’s an entirely different story.
I wish I could have been there. I hadn’t been home in nearly two weeks. First it was hanging out with some bay area friends. Then it was summer school prep. Then it was going to LA for a friend’s bachelorette and bridal shower. Then it was actual summer school, new hire interview panels, and more hanging out with bay area friends. And on the day prior to when I was free again to go home, Carty passed.
I miss him so much. One of my credential program friends also recently lost a beloved pet this year. She said, “It’s funny how those little buggers take hold of your heart, and leave you feeling a bit empty.”
Yes, yes they do.
The last few scratches Carty gave me while playing with him are starting to scab and go away. Is it crazy that I don’t want the scratches to heal??