Eulogy

I knew it was a desperate cause in the beginning, but after five encouraging days I thought things might turn out to be OK. I got my hopes up. Then I went to work for eight days. All week long I was looking forward to seeing those five little bunnies when I got home. But in this I was sorely disappointed. Every one had died within 24 hours of my departure.

I must confess that I was pretty tore up about this and might have been a little grumpy and depressed the day that I got home.

It's strange what an experience like this does to you. I thought I was prepared for the worst case scenario. In fact, I fully expected it. If those bunnies had died on the first or second day, it could have been acceptable. But by the third day, those little hares would fight to pile into my hand when I reached into their box, they would constantly struggle to climb out (two little rascals actually found the weak point and exploited it to escape) and then promptly settle down and go to sleep when picked up. They were gaining weight and energy, they were inquisitive and trusting, and then they died. And I found out that I had not steeled myself enough. After five days of feeding them, after checking on them constantly, after holding them, after watching them learn how to hop . . . I guess I started to love them. Curse my soft heart!

It turns out that any sort of cow's milk product will kill rabbits. I discovered this on the third or forth day, but there was no way to change what I was feeding them (a weak mixture of powdered milk and a little sugar). There isn't a pet store anywhere nearby (Anchorage=4 hours), and no way to get the product that they needed (KMR-kitty milk replacement, or the puppy version . . . for future reference). So they died because of my ignorance and isolation, which is what I was most afraid of.