Bunny Brown 1994 - 2009
On Saturday evening, we said goodbye to our dear elder daschund, Bunny. On Wednesday, he’d stopped eating and we’d presumed that it would be a 24 hour thing, as it often was with him these last six months, as age had begun to take it’s toll and his digestive system wasn’t what it was – he could clear a room with one of his farts (and look very pleased about it too).
By Thursday, he took a turn for the worse and my mother called me at work - I raced home, as did my boyfriend. Late in the evening, fearing the worst, we rushed him to Medivet, a wonderful 24 hour veterinary service in Richmond. It turns out that we were just in time – his temperature was very low and he was about to go into shock. He was placed on a drip to rehydrate him and given hefty doses of antibiotics to combat what was presumed to be a bad gastric infection.
And we waited.
On Friday evening, we went to visit and he looked slightly happier but he still wasn’t all too well but we had a glimmer of hope and we clung to it. Unfortunately, that changed the following morning – he wasn’t getting any better and four days without food was clearly weakening his condition. It was awful to see him in that state and as much as we may have selfishly wanted to keep him alive in some hope that he might get better, we knew it was best to let him go. The same evening, we drove back to the vet’s, who said that it was unlikely he would recover which helped to reassure us that what we were about to do was the best decision. We spent time with him, stroking, hugging and telling him just how much he meant to all of us and then we stayed with him as the vet administered the injection.
Since his passing, the last 48 hours have been awful. The house is incredibly quiet without his incessant barks and our other daschund Holly is miserable, snuffling around and trying to find her constant companion.
It's the small things that break our hearts - coming home and not hearing his distinctive patter of feet, the empty bed, even his collar that he hasn't worn for months that hangs on our coat stand. But as we keep telling ourselves, we must remember the good times and over almost 16 years, there were plenty.
Rest in peace, my beautiful boy.