Lucky by Mindy and Marc / Mindy

I propped your limp body in a way that you would be able to see me on the bed through the night. I knew being able to look at me would calm you down a little bit. I could hear the fluid filling your lungs and knew each breath was a struggle. I was exhausted. But I knew you were in the final round of the fight of your life, and that you could not win. Nor was there any proverbial towel I could throw in for you. For the first time in many years I prayed. I knew you would be gone.

But, as always, you surprised me. Much like you used to surprise me by standing on the floor with my blanket in your mouth, attempting to pull my covers off of me. Oh how you loved morning breakfast. I swear you thought the alarm clock was set for your stomach. I still wear blue jeans you bit clean through when I once had the audacity to stop petting you. And electrical cords? Forget it! I wrapped them all in plastic tubing to avoid your sharp mischevious fangs.

But I was tired, Lucky. I have a demanding job, I had to work the next morning. I have a job that leaves no time for emotions, no room for reflection, no concern or sympathy for a dying rabbit. By 2 AM I was fitfully but thankfully asleep, with you besides me, softly gasping, watching me. I prayed right before dozing off, expecting you to be gone when I woke up.

But you surprised me. You were still here. Seven o’clock, I was scared. You were still here, and you were still watching me, and I may have to leave you soon. I picked you up. The alarm no longer meant “time to eat” because you were no longer hungry. This alarm meant “time to be alone” and you didn’t want to be alone. This alarm meant “your time is up” and you took your last breath in my arms. I felt the heave in your chest. I saw the fear–and then relief– in your eyes. I felt your body go limp. I felt my heart shatter.

I will never forget you Lucky. I lost a friend. I will never forget you, never replace you, never feel quite the same again. My heart is broken, Lucky. I love you.

 

Forever in peace,