Post by Lovux The Great on Jul 22, 2008 17:17:47 GMT -5
Or, he was my sister's rabbit. Or, the whole family's. Or whatever.
We've had rabbits since ten years back, when my older sister decided that she wanted a pet. Today, our fifth rabbit left us at the age of seven years; Musse.
Musse hadn't been feeling very well the latest weeks. He had small wounds on one of his behind legs and recently, his front legs started to hurt as well. We all knew that he was old and that his had come, but we've had rabbits who thought were going to die before, but were left alive and did fine for over a whole years. So we kept on believeing that he would get healthy again.
Today, my sister spotted flies on him. Since we've had a rabbit who died because of flies laying eggs around his tails and having maggots crawling around on him, she decided that he needed to be washed. She needed my assistance for this, since rabbits don't like to be bathed.
So there we were, in our garden with towels and water and plastic gloves. Everything went well. Musse behaved, even if he notcied that he had trouble when making a few attempts to escape. We let him dry off in the sun and every now and then, he was just cooly cleaning himself like rabbits usually do. Probably to show that "Hey, look, I can take care of my hygiene pretty well on my own!".
Then there was time for the last step, to check out his anal in order to see if he were any dirty there and had dirt that needed to be cleaned off. I held him while my sister patted him with a wet handkerchief. And when there was only so little left to clean up... he freaked.
He kicked for all his life and we had to hold him still. We have had experiences with unwilling rabbits before, so we kept on trying to remove those last pieces of dirt under his tail. But all he did was kick and struggle. And so, when I finally hold him still against my leg, he... stopped moving.
We assumed that he had calmed down at least and proceeded to pick those last pieces of dirt away from him. We said: "Well, that wasn't so dangerous, was it, Musse".
I patted him and... zero reaction.
We put him down between us, and instead of sitting up like he usually would've done, he fell to the side. And my sister said "... I think he's dead".
He was.
Our rabbit had died right before our eyes when we were trying to help him.
Look, I know that when you read this story through, it will sound like we were too violent and didn't treat him well, but WE WERE KIND TO HIM. We have had rabbits for ten years, and not even once have we been ruthless or not gentle when holding them, carrying them, snuggling with them or bathed them. In fact, we were gentlier than usual when treating Musse, because we knew that he was (most likely) in pain.
The reason why he died right there was because he was old and sick. Otherwise he wouldn't have died from regular kicking and struggling that our rabbits have done when they have gotten washed. I know that rabbits have so strong behind legs that they can "kick off their own backs", but there was no way that was what happened to him, his kicks weren't that large at all. Perhaps it was the stress of being held completely exposed and defenseless that made him panic. That, in combination with having an old, sick body was what made his heart stop.
I have faint images of me being responsible for this, that I was the one to hold him in the wrong way or didn't treat him gently enough, but both my sister and my mom have told me that I am in no way the one at fault. He was old and sick and would probably have been dead in a few days anyway. We were planning to take him to the vet next week, and there, he would proably have been put down.
At least he died in an environment he was familiar with and with people he knew and trusted since years back. He didn't have to go to a completely new place and being handed over to people he had never seen before.
I believe that he had a good life with us. Unlike most rabbits, he didn't have to live in a tiny box in a flat in a big city, but he could do as good as everything he wanted to:
As you can see in the first picture (you can spot Musse himself as well), our rabbits have two big "main cages" with a pipe between them so that they can be outside while still inside, and a bridge that let them go in an out as they please. And when finally outside, on the ground, they have a big fence with grass and bushes to run around in. And there are always people coming to check them out every day, every hour, so it's not like we leave them to their destiny or anything. During nightimes, we chase them in (if they are still in the fence) and put away the bridge and close the little "door" to the big cage. Of course, we move the fence and the cages once or twice a year, to let them have new ground to dig in and grass to eat - to give them variation, as simple as that!
They have also always had company. When my sister got her first rabbit, it didn't take long before we decided that he couldn't be alone like that, so we bought another rabbit. And when the first rabbit died, the second couldn't be left behind, so we got a pal for him. And so on. Now we have only our sixth (and first female!) rabbit, Lady, left.
She is eight years old and came to us when she was seven. But yet... damn if she's not the healthiest rabbit we've ever had. She is never tired and is always up to something. But then again, she had lived in a box for seven years, so of course she'd be extatic when coming to an environment like this! We aren't sure how she will take the loss of her old friend Musse. But, as stated before, she's been alone for seven years, so perhaps she won't mind. We laid Musse's dead body in the fence for a while to let her smell him and make sure that she knew what was going on. We always do that when one rabbit dies before one other. And it's also a tradition that we bury them in the far part of our garden, that looks like this:
Here, we now have five rabbit graves (but they can't be seen, because they have been grown over with grass and such). We always put stone plates on their graves, that resemble tombstones. Musse's case was not an exception. We put some flowers on his grave (and beside him, before wrapping him up in the towel we had dried him off with earlier during the day), as well as some berries that grow on the bushes that he liked.
Farewell, Musse.
I love you.
We've had rabbits since ten years back, when my older sister decided that she wanted a pet. Today, our fifth rabbit left us at the age of seven years; Musse.
Musse hadn't been feeling very well the latest weeks. He had small wounds on one of his behind legs and recently, his front legs started to hurt as well. We all knew that he was old and that his had come, but we've had rabbits who thought were going to die before, but were left alive and did fine for over a whole years. So we kept on believeing that he would get healthy again.
Today, my sister spotted flies on him. Since we've had a rabbit who died because of flies laying eggs around his tails and having maggots crawling around on him, she decided that he needed to be washed. She needed my assistance for this, since rabbits don't like to be bathed.
So there we were, in our garden with towels and water and plastic gloves. Everything went well. Musse behaved, even if he notcied that he had trouble when making a few attempts to escape. We let him dry off in the sun and every now and then, he was just cooly cleaning himself like rabbits usually do. Probably to show that "Hey, look, I can take care of my hygiene pretty well on my own!".
Then there was time for the last step, to check out his anal in order to see if he were any dirty there and had dirt that needed to be cleaned off. I held him while my sister patted him with a wet handkerchief. And when there was only so little left to clean up... he freaked.
He kicked for all his life and we had to hold him still. We have had experiences with unwilling rabbits before, so we kept on trying to remove those last pieces of dirt under his tail. But all he did was kick and struggle. And so, when I finally hold him still against my leg, he... stopped moving.
We assumed that he had calmed down at least and proceeded to pick those last pieces of dirt away from him. We said: "Well, that wasn't so dangerous, was it, Musse".
I patted him and... zero reaction.
We put him down between us, and instead of sitting up like he usually would've done, he fell to the side. And my sister said "... I think he's dead".
He was.
Our rabbit had died right before our eyes when we were trying to help him.
Look, I know that when you read this story through, it will sound like we were too violent and didn't treat him well, but WE WERE KIND TO HIM. We have had rabbits for ten years, and not even once have we been ruthless or not gentle when holding them, carrying them, snuggling with them or bathed them. In fact, we were gentlier than usual when treating Musse, because we knew that he was (most likely) in pain.
The reason why he died right there was because he was old and sick. Otherwise he wouldn't have died from regular kicking and struggling that our rabbits have done when they have gotten washed. I know that rabbits have so strong behind legs that they can "kick off their own backs", but there was no way that was what happened to him, his kicks weren't that large at all. Perhaps it was the stress of being held completely exposed and defenseless that made him panic. That, in combination with having an old, sick body was what made his heart stop.
I have faint images of me being responsible for this, that I was the one to hold him in the wrong way or didn't treat him gently enough, but both my sister and my mom have told me that I am in no way the one at fault. He was old and sick and would probably have been dead in a few days anyway. We were planning to take him to the vet next week, and there, he would proably have been put down.
At least he died in an environment he was familiar with and with people he knew and trusted since years back. He didn't have to go to a completely new place and being handed over to people he had never seen before.
I believe that he had a good life with us. Unlike most rabbits, he didn't have to live in a tiny box in a flat in a big city, but he could do as good as everything he wanted to:
As you can see in the first picture (you can spot Musse himself as well), our rabbits have two big "main cages" with a pipe between them so that they can be outside while still inside, and a bridge that let them go in an out as they please. And when finally outside, on the ground, they have a big fence with grass and bushes to run around in. And there are always people coming to check them out every day, every hour, so it's not like we leave them to their destiny or anything. During nightimes, we chase them in (if they are still in the fence) and put away the bridge and close the little "door" to the big cage. Of course, we move the fence and the cages once or twice a year, to let them have new ground to dig in and grass to eat - to give them variation, as simple as that!
They have also always had company. When my sister got her first rabbit, it didn't take long before we decided that he couldn't be alone like that, so we bought another rabbit. And when the first rabbit died, the second couldn't be left behind, so we got a pal for him. And so on. Now we have only our sixth (and first female!) rabbit, Lady, left.
She is eight years old and came to us when she was seven. But yet... damn if she's not the healthiest rabbit we've ever had. She is never tired and is always up to something. But then again, she had lived in a box for seven years, so of course she'd be extatic when coming to an environment like this! We aren't sure how she will take the loss of her old friend Musse. But, as stated before, she's been alone for seven years, so perhaps she won't mind. We laid Musse's dead body in the fence for a while to let her smell him and make sure that she knew what was going on. We always do that when one rabbit dies before one other. And it's also a tradition that we bury them in the far part of our garden, that looks like this:
Here, we now have five rabbit graves (but they can't be seen, because they have been grown over with grass and such). We always put stone plates on their graves, that resemble tombstones. Musse's case was not an exception. We put some flowers on his grave (and beside him, before wrapping him up in the towel we had dried him off with earlier during the day), as well as some berries that grow on the bushes that he liked.
Farewell, Musse.
I love you.
