…rests a little bunny named Charlotte McFluffypants.
We don’t all agree on the McFluffypants surname, but my daughter insists.
Charlotte was a very social bunny. She came when I called, loved to be petted, and ate twice her body weight in food morning and night. She begged for “snacks” the rest of the day. When she was hungry, she would pick up her little dish and bang it around to get our attention.
I never thought I would like her as much as I did.
I never thought I would miss her when she died.
But, I do.
My daughter woke up early Sunday morning and heard a commotion coming from her cage. Charlotte was having seizures.
It was TERRIBLE!
I wish she would have died during the night, but she seized for about an hour Sunday morning before she died. It was one of those moments when you just don’t know what to do, and anything you can do is not enough.
We buried her down by the riverside.
It seemed as good a place as any.
The four year-old next door came over Sunday afternoon and asked to go see the bunny.
I overheard my daughter’s explanation of death and bunny heaven – pearly gates and golden streets, clover in abundance, and enough Romain lettuce to feed all the bunnies in the world.
In a FringeField far away lies Charlotte McFluffypants. May she rest in peace.