I’m sad to report that Tidbit went to the Bridge today.
After her illness in May, she had a good month with us here at home, always happy, following us around, playing with her toys and eating like a horse. Then on Tuesday she was of her feed again, so I took her to the vet on Wednesday. Dan took her again on Thursday, since she resisted our efforts to medicate her.
She was doing a little better Thursday, even playing with her toys, so we decided to not leave her at the vet and to try to medicate her at home on Friday. As (bad) luck would have it, she started showing new symptoms that required a trip to the emergency pet hospital. They saw nothing so wrong that she couldn’t go home, and I had already left a message for her regular vet to expect us on Saturday morning. She spent most of last night in her favorite spot by my computer chair, but it was clear things weren't right with her.
Dan took her in this morning and they still had her under observation for her cluster of seemingly unrelated symptoms when things started to go very wrong. It seems she suffered a stroke or other type of deep rupture inside her brain.
Luckily we were only a few blocks away when we got the call and as soon as I saw her, I knew what the only right decision must be. I could’ve spent thousands of dollars and put her through hell to put off my own pain for a few weeks or months, but that’s not what love is about. She died in my arms while I petted her and told her it was okay to quit fighting.
If you never read the story of how I got her, it’s here. She cheated death four years ago when the shelter workers forgot to euthanize her on schedule, but you can’t cheat death forever. I still can’t believe it was less than a week ago that she was doing little binky dances for us in the living room and stomping her foot when I wasn’t quick enough with her breakfast. Nature gives prey animals a pretty unpleasant part in the food chain, they are also blessed with a quick exit when things go too badly wrong.
For now, I have her corner under the watchful care of a friend, until I’m ready to welcome a new bunny into my home. I always seem to end up with the strays and sad cases, so I’ll know when it’s the right time and the right bunny.
As for all her pals on the 7-bunny-7, Tidbit regrets that she won’t be flying home with them. She’s found her happy hay place where no one is ever late with breakfast. She will be missed.