The Domino Effect

Since the last time that I wrote a new year, disease, pets, deaths, students, and household rearrangement have come to pass.

I got really sick last fall and didn't know that I was sick, however it had a profound affect on my life and the lives of those that relied on me. When my thyroid quit it was a quick, twenty-pound trip back to high blood sugar and pressure, so tired I couldn't leave the house, or even my room most days, let alone work, prepare proper meals or work out. I neither called my friends nor engaged with the world. And I didn't miss it. I didn't have the energy to care.

While I was sick, my senior rabbit, Blue, got sick. I was too tired to notice. There was nothing that I felt I could do for him without money, and I couldn't make money because I had no energy. So I turned a blind eye to his suffering.

Miraculously, the thyroid problem came to light, treatment began, and the struggle to regain control over my life began anew. However, Blue was too far gone. He died last night. I am left with the sure and certain knowledge that I did not do the best that I could.

I don't believe in euthanasia, but in his case I made an exception. He was unable to move his feet. The doctor said that there was a 50/50 chance that he was in excruciating pain from the underlying neurological cause, which may or may not have been a broken back. I had seen him do something, which once described, the vet said could have caused this condition, so it was not out of the question.

Secondarily, he had an abscess in his jaw. There had been a foul discharge from his nose which I had taken to be a sinus infection, however this was probably pus from the infected jaw seeping into his throat. That would have been very painful as well.

His prognosis was poor on both fronts. Outcomes would be limited in their efficacy at best and at worst either procedure/course of treatment could kill him. Worse, the treatments and recoveries would be painful and he would have been in pain until both problems were cured. Worst, most likely either or both were incurable, in which case his suffering would have been all for naught.

How could I put a rabbit, one that had always been gentle with me, who was calm, tolerant and patient with children and other pets, despite the pain, foul odor and taste and the times when I would try in vain to keep his nose clean, how could I subject him to this? What had he ever done that I should hurt him so?

We said our good-byes. He was barely responsive, but I patted him for a while on his forehead. As a healthier rabbit, when I patted his cheeks, his ears would spring up. They didn't, and that was how I knew that while the body may have been minimally functional, that life was well and truly over.

I loved him. He was a wonderful companion, an unconditionally loving, accepting animal. I hope that he is easy now, as peaceful in death as he was in life. Rest easy, little guy; I will not forget you.