My dear Baby Jane Fudge Snowy Rotherham, I am writing this with tears in my eyes. I loved you so, so much and you were taken away from me far too young, only four, middle aged for a bunny. You were never normal. Fiesty, fiery, passionate for life and a zesty attitude, you never kept still for a minute Babes. You would always hop up on my computer desk or the chair when I was working, trying to get at the food or wanting attention. You were never a cuddly creature, a rabbit that you could hug and kiss, no, but you showed your affection in other ways.
You loved to get petted, could sit for ages just to be stroked. I’m sorry that you went so young, so very sorry you suffered but at least now you can frolic and play and have a happy time in Bunny Heaven. I didn’t know you were weak, I don’t know how you died, but I feel guilty about your teeth problem. You were so silent that Monday night,
so unlike you.
You had been fine the day before, hopping about happily, annoying me. But when you refused chcolate, your favourite treat which you always strived to get, I knew something was wrong. You died in my arms whilst I was watching Eastenders. We were very worried and I felt so heartbroken I nearly screamed in anguish my Baby Bright Eyes. I will miss you greatly. You were my first rabbit, one in a million. Irrepressable, spunky, funny and loving in your own way.
I will never forget you. We will get your body cremated with the wooden carrot that Gran gave you for Christmas, although you could never chew it, and scatter your ashes on Watership Down. We watched it together, I held you as you sat, those months, maybe years, ago. We’ll either scatter them there or I’ll keep them, maybe even have them scattered along with mine when I die. I know you are gone but I will always love you Baby.