My rabbit died two days ago. I know many people would think that mourning a life so small is silly, but that’s okay, I’m going to do it anyway. I’ve lost a lot of pets over my lifetime, naturally, and I’ve lost quite a few people too, but for some reason this one is hitting me really hard. I’m normally the type to cry once when I first find out someone has passed, and that’s about it. Sure, I’m still sad, but death is inevitable, and I’d rather just be glad for the time I get to spend with people while they’re still here.
This one is different for some reason. Perhaps because she was my companion through some of the most difficult moments of my life, always there with an inquisitive look or a loving nuzzle. Or perhaps it’s because she was so small, innocent, and sweet, and the deaths of small, innocent, sweet things seem somehow more tragic. Or maybe, just maybe, I’ve just lost too many people and things in the past year, and this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I guess it doesn’t really matter why her death has impacted me in such a way, because the end result is the same regardless.
I don’t feel silly for mourning her death. She gave me several years of companionship and comfort, I can give her a few days, or a weeks, or whatever is needed. If that’s silly, well then someone find me some clown make-up.
I know I’ll recover and let go eventually, and I’ll be able to just appreciate the time I had with her. I know everything will continue on much as it has been. I suppose this post is really just to say: Rest in Peace Blob, I liked you more than I like most people.
“To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” -Albus Dumbledore