Tag Archives: companionship

R.I.P. Buns

Death can really put things in perspective.  Even simpler things.

My sister’s bunny passed away today.  Her boyfriend, who can be a bit of an oaf, perhaps mishandled her on accident and she fractured her spine.  I wasn’t there, but I have a tragic mental image to be sure…

I didn’t spend a lot of time with Buns.  But I was fond of her enough to give her her very own pet name–as Buns is not what my sister prefers for her to be called!!

Anyways, she was 2, and my sister got her for Easter in 2011.  I still remember her very first night in our home.  I was still living there, and snuck her into my bedroom to snuggle.  She peed on my bed.

And just now I’m realizing that my very first picture with Buns is gone, as I lost my phone earlier this year….  She was still just a baby, and fit into the palm of one hand.  She was a lop-eared, but in the picture one ear was awkwardly perked halfway up.  Too precious!

And while I’m not particularly devastated like my sister is, I do grieve the memories of her.  I cared for her last summer while my family was away.  The summer before as well.  And she knew me.  She remembered me.  I appreciated that I would come home to visit and she would remember that I’m the friendly soul who loved her and could never pass her by without cheerfully greeting her and sneaking kisses through the cage door.  “Hi Buns~!”

Two pets gone in less than one year.  It’s hard.  I especially miss my dog who we had to let go of in October.  But what I meant by saying “simple perspective” is… I need to take one of my girls to the vet.  One of my kittens.

Her two breasts closest to her rear have been swollen and pink for some time, and it doesn’t sit comfortably with me.  The first time, the vet told me that she was overweight and that the swells are simply fatty tissue lumps building up around the scar tissue from her spay.  Feasible.  But she’s at a healthy weight now and they’re still there.

I need to take her to the vet.  I can’t lose her.  I can’t lose another companion.

Wish us luck!


Thursday, July 26th

Happy 6 Months.

Half a year.  Half a year I’ve come to love you, and rely on you, and treasure you as my closest friend and companion.

I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.  I feel like in 6 months we’ve built up a complex bridge of memories, and happiness, and sadness, and mistakes between us.  A whole lifetime of feelings exploding within such a small frame of time.  This is beautiful to me.  This is everything to me.

On our 6 months, I want you to know that it’s okay to get overwhelmed and worried.  I am here.  I am always here.  I don’t leave the people I’ve accepted into my most intimate realm.  I can’t even when I try.
You are a part of me now, be it for better or worse.

On our 6 months, I want you to know that I am always thinking of you.  I always wonder what you wonder.  Like a child I look at you through curious eyes, thirsting for your answers.   You are still a secret to me, and I long to spend my life figuring you out.

On our 6 months, I look back at what has taken us to where we are, and I am at peace.  I am in love with what we are.  I am in love with the choices we’ve made and the battles we’ve fought and the grounds we’ve covered.  I am in love with you.

On our 6 months, I see where we can go, but I don’t want to picture a thing anymore.  I want to discover whatever life we can dig up together, and embrace it.  I want us to share this life together, whatever this life may be.

On our 6 months I smile and realize you are someone who has affected me like no other.  I don’t want to live my life around you or for you or in spite of you.  In fact, I want to live it with you.  With you right beside me.  My best friend.


Why am I the only one who feels this way.  What could you have been feeling that made you betray all of our feelings as you have?

Those whom children bond with.

I feel a child is both the most naive and intelligent of all people.  A child’s trust is not hard to earn, but it is also not hard to lose.  Children will look at your soul.  They will see all your actions and praises and misgivings deliberately.  When you are a child, you don’t weigh the stresses and emotions that play into a person’s demeanour, you just see it for what it is.

Those whom children bond with are those who provide sustenance in life, love, and learning more so than any other.  They are someone who has witnessed you at every stage of life and every turn of fortune.  They know you, and they know you on a deeper level than that which you can even contemplate sharing.

I feel like I don’t have anyone like that.  I feel like I am detached from most people in my life, because no one really understands me the way a childhood companion would.  Who do I look back towards fondly?  Who do I relate my experiences with?  I haven’t grown next to anyone.  I’m always branching further away in my own direction.

Children are lucky.  They get to network and learn and thrive.  They get to make mistakes, take chances, and fail.  They get to grow into a world that’s devastatingly hard to handle, but they get to share that burden intimately with a safety net of people familiar to their cause.

As good a childhood as I experienced, there’s a part of me that lends myself to the notion that a childhood is what I never had.