R.I.P. Captain Jack

I wish I had written that title to talk about the final Pirates of the Carribean movie coming out. On Friday night, Anthony and I had to rush my rabbit, Captain Jack to the emergency vet clinic to be put to sleep. He's been sick on and off for months now with some sort of weird digestive issue. But it looked like he was finally cured. We switched brands of hay, and about a week and a half ago he stopped eating much of it. He lost quite a bit of weight in a short time, and so I switched back to the normal hay, and he seemed to be doing better. He was still really thin, and a little weak, but he was eating tons of hay and seemed happy. Friday morning we debated if we should take him to the vet anyway, just to make sure he was doing alright, but I decided to wait a few days. We left for the day and when we got back late Friday evening, he was passed out on his side nearly unconscious and he had lost all control of his digestive track.

We called our vet's office and got the number for an emergency clinic and rushed him there with me sobbing and clutching his carrier the whole way. The guy working there was a complete ASS, and had absolutely no sympathy. While I'm sure our vet would have told us basically the same thing, that it would be prohibitively expensive to find out what was wrong with him, and that it might still be incurable, and that in the meantime he would be suffering. But he would have told us politely, and been very sympathetic and caring. The guy we went to was horrible, he never said he was sorry, and he was very brusque about everything.

We decided that Jack needed to be put to sleep so we spent a little while saying goodbye to him. He was at least alert enough to respond to us, so I know he heard what we were saying and could feel us petting him. Because Jack was so sick they had to use a gas anesthetic, so we couldn't go in with him. I hated the thought of him having to die alone in a room with that horrible man, but there was nothing I could do.

We took him home, and let Squirrel see him, and say goodbye. We also let the cats say goodbye. We buried him in the backyard at the base of the lilac tree that we just planted. Anthony had to explain to the neighbors what we were doing, since they were out and looking somewhat suspicious about him digging a grave while I held a tiny bundle wrapped in a towel while I cried.

I've spent the past few days a complete mess. I'm trying not to feel guilty, and it isn't really working at all. He was only 3 and he should have lived for at least another 5-8 years. I feel like there is so much more that I could have done for him. If nothing else I wish we had taken him in Friday morning, because at least that way our vet could have put him to sleep, which would have been much much better. I've been through every stage of grief in no particular order, and currently I'm stuck at bargaining, "I'll go through the hell of last year just to have him back." And wishing that it was Squirrel instead of Jack that was gone. I love her, and she is a very sweet bunny. But Jack had so much personality. He was my baby bunny and while he was a complete pain in the ass, he was also a never ending source of amusement.



Goodbye Jack. I will miss you and your whiskery little bunny nose. I love you buddy.