Last Journey

I felt sick when I made the appointment for Mishka to be euthanised yesterday. I rang the local vets to check who would come out and do it for me but their mileage prices were so high that I had to face the fact that we would have to go to the clinic. Vet Services who did the original operation on Mish said that a vet would come to the car to save him the stress of going into the building with all its smells and unpleasant memories.

Every thing I did with Mish I mentally reminded myself that it would be for the last time “This is his last walk outside, this is his last meal, this is the last night”. After a broken night I got up early and fed everyone before I came inside to finish chores. As I was making my bed I kept feeling someone watching and would turn to see Mish lying in the dining room looking at me. Finally I knelt beside him and brushed his coat so he’d look his best for his final journey. I picked him up and cuddled him with his head resting on my shoulder. As he looked into the little hallway by the back door his ears went up and down repeatedly as if something was there but of course there was nothing.

As we sat there a song came on the radio- The Beatles “Golden Slumbers”. The lines “Golden Slumbers guide you to your rest” followed by “Hush little baby don’t you cry/And I will sing you a lullaby” started me off and when the song ended with “And in the end/The love you take/Is equal to the love/You make” that about finished me off.

Finally, just after 9am my friend Rose arrived to take us to the clinic. We put the cat basket and sheepskin Mish had commandeered after his operation on the back seat of the car while I sat illegally with him on my knee in the front. A very long fraught journey into Waipukurau later we arrived a few minutes late for my appointment. Rose went inside and came back with a form I had to sign giving my permission for the procedure. She then opened the hatchback and I settled Mishka into the basket while we waited for the vet to come out. Unfortunately he was running late so it was nearly 10am by the time he appeared by which time we were cold and Mishka stressed.

The nurse told me she had helped the original vet with the cancer operation in August and they’d been sure they’d removed all the cells and it wouldn’t reoccur. She couldn’t get over how aggressively the tumours had re grown. I told them Mishka’s left leg was very sore so they shaved his right one instead but couldn’t get a vein. However when they tried the same with his left leg Mish snapped at the vet so they went back to the right. As the injection went in I began to sob, resting my head on top of Mish’s as his eyes began to close and he went to sleep. Unfortunately for him my face was the last thing he saw in this world.

We drove home with him curled up in the little bed and managed to finish digging the grave I had begun yesterday without crying. When Rose took him out of the car and I touched him he was still warm and looked as if he was just sleeping. I laid him in the grave and put a sprig of jasmine on top of him and at that point we both lost it so I ended up helping filling in the grave with my eyes shut.

After Rose left I wandered around outside for an hour as I couldn’t bear to go into the house. When I finally became too cold the sense of loss was huge but the black and white cats came and sat beside me until I lay down and went to sleep.

So bye Mishka. King of the Egg Eaters. Cat Humper. Total Guts. Best Friend.

Time To Say Goodbye

When is the right time to let go? Watching Mishka gradually worsen each week I told myself it would be when he could no longer eat or wag his tail. But here we are weeks on and yet he still has an interest in his food (and everyone else's) and always has a wag ready and waiting. But two weeks ago he suddenly developed a limp in his left front leg after a egg search expedition in the shelter belt accompanied by a stray cow. He had trouble touching his paw to the ground but it seemed like the trouble was coming from the shoulder. Gradually each day he has curtailed his perambulations around the garden to the point now that he only wanders twenty feet from the door for a toilet stop or else to the woodshed to steal Stig's milk.

The mouth tumours have grown back and became ulcerated and infected a couple of weeks ago so he's back on antibiotics. The tumour in the lymph node of his neck has doubled so goodness knows what's going on in the rest of his body. Despite eating well and all his supplements and alternative treatments he is beginning to lose a little weight. He looks sad.

Mishka sleeps a lot now although he takes an interest in visitors. Especially one doggy one, Pippi the blue heeler, who was sitting in a truck last Saturday with Mishka whining up at her. Quick as a flash she jumped out of the window and much bum sniffing ensued before Mish began some intensive "wild thang". Distracting him from her wasn't too easy but she didn't seem to mind until she decided to go to the loo and Mish, never being man to let a chance go by, hopped on sideways. At that Pippi took umbrage and began growling so was locked back in the truck leaving a love lorn Romeo whining up at her.

Yesterday I rang the vets and discussed the options for putting Mish to sleep. As bringing them out here is too expensive and Mish is terrified of the clinic they will come out to the car and with me sitting beside him on the back seat they will set him free. He loves going for car rides so hopefully will be unsuspecting of what is about to happen. The last gift you can ever give your pet is unselfishness on your part- to learn when it is time to say goodbye.

Baby Bunny Bother

What should have been a happy time welcoming new bunnies into the world has turned into a fraught experience. What with the "jelly babies" constantly getting out of their nest box after being fed, to the first death of a seven day old white kit that I didn't discover out of the box since it had wriggled behind it and was hidden from view.

Six beautiful kits made it to two weeks and all opened their eyes. There was some difference in size from large and fat to small and fat but Ebony seemed to be doing a good job looking after her litter.

The only agouti kit (a buck) in particular was huge for its age and doing especially well until Saturday 2nd October when I discovered it sitting in the cage hunched up and looking very miserable. On close examination it had a bad case of green diarrhea which had only appeared that afternoon as it was fine when I checked in the morning. I isolated it from the others and brought it inside and tried to help but within two hours it was dead. This was my first case of kit diarrhea ever.

The following Wednesday I was showing friends the remaining five white kits when we noticed that one was slightly bald on top of its head as well as being (along with another baby) quite a bit smaller than the others. Next morning on the 8th Oct everyone looked fine and I began chores only to have my washing machine which is within ear shot of the rabbitry have a complete breakdown and try to make a break for freedom with all the noise it could muster. Then at 8.30am the lawn mower man arrived unexpectedly and began weed eating nearby. When I went to check on the bunnies an hour later one of the small kits was lying dead with the others sitting on it. I assumed it died of fright. Then the next day little Baldy died. When I examined it there was a huge bluish swelling on its head so that must have been part of the cause of death.

The kits reached three weeks and began hanging out with Mum a lot more although at first they were reluctant to enter the nest box after Baldy's death which made me wonder if he'd had a seizure which scared the hell out of them. They then reached four weeks of age and I began to relax until Sunday 17th Oct when I went out first thing on a warm still Spring morning to find the largest kit dead in the nest box. No signs of injury, the body was still warm and limp. Everyone else seemed fine and happy to see me but I now approach their cage with trepidation. In 24 years of keeping rabbits I have never lost five kits from a litter. Bunny bother. Or bother bunnies.