Greetings, moon_beam, Kathy, and fellow forum members:

I apologize for being away from this forum for a while. I'm back now with a new loss and I am very heartbroken.

I have lost my last bunny Ron. He passed away suddenly and unexpectedly on Monday, November 20, 2017. I have been unable to post about my baby Ron until now. I miss him so much.

I adopted Ron on April 9, 2011 from a rabbit rescue group so that he could join our little bunny family. As some of you know, I lost Hermione in 2011, Albus in 2014, and Harry just last year in 2016. Sweet Ron helped me work through my grief after Harry passed away. But now my precious little Ron is gone too. He was only 7 years old.

I made the unfortunate mistake of leaving Ron at the veterinary hospital on November 16. I should have kept him home and nursed him myself. Instead, I chose to hospitalize/board him for 3 days while I went out of town to visit my father who is very ill. I had been leaving Ron home alone several weekends in a row since early October. I always left him plenty of hay, lettuce, water, and treats. I would leave Friday morning and return Saturday night. A neighbor checked on him the first weekend I was away, and then I set up cameras to monitor him thereafter.

He was doing well until the weekend of November 11. I returned home to find that he had not been eating well or eliminating as he should have been. Like my other bunnies, Ron did not like to drink water, from bottle or bowl. So I immediately started treating him at home for GI stasis with subcutaneously fluids, assist feedings, and medications. I took him to the clinic on Monday, November 13, where he saw another vet filling in for his regular vet. She diagnosed GI stasis and recommended continuing what I was doing at home for Ron. The following day, I called his regular vet to update her about some chalky urine I noticed and ask her for follow-up instructions. She looked at his x-ray from the day before and diagnosed worsening urinary sludge (which the other vet failed to notice). She recommended bringing Ron back in for another x-ray and possible procedure to flush out his bladder.

Ron was recovering well with all of his home treatments. By Wednesday, November 15, he was eating on his own and eliminating well (good poops and adequate urine output). Following his vet's recommendations, I hospitalized him on Thursday, November 16, for repeat x-rays (which looked better) and possible procedure on Friday, November 17. I received daily morning updates on his progress and I also called every night to check on him. I was told he was doing well, no longer needed the procedure, and was moving around normally in the cage. The last update from his vet was Saturday morning (November 18): he was eating, pooping, and peeing; he was hopping around the cage; she was moving him to "boarding status" from "hospitalization." She said I could pick him up that night.

Straight from the airport, I drove to pick up my little guy around midnight. He didn't seem to recognize me at all. He was awake but seemed not to know I was there. More importantly, I found he could not stand up at all. The tech put him in his carrier and Ron just laid there on his belly. He usually stands in his carrier. I should have said something, but I just wanted to take him home. When we got home, I found he could not walk/hop/stand on his own. He would not eat or poop or pee. I was alarmed.

I took him to the emergency clinic early the next morning. I told this vet, who has never seen Ron before, that something was very, very wrong, that Ron could not stand up at all and actually rolled onto his side when I tried to help him stand. The vet said he was just in pain from his arthritis. I also said Ron was not eating or eliminating. He told me that while Ron was hospitalized there, he had given Ron a strong narcotic pain medication (Buprenex). Until then, no one told me Ron was getting an injection of narcotics. The vet gave him another injection of Buprenex and then sent us home with more of the same to use at home (which I refused to give). I specifically asked, "Is Ron dying?" The vet said, "No, we're not there yet." I also asked, "Did Ron have a stroke? Why can't he stand?" The vet said again, "it's his arthritis."

About 4 hours later, I called the clinic again because I was more concerned that Ron had not eliminated or eaten since the day before. I was told to watch and wait and call back Monday. All evening and night I watched Ron closely, but he was just laying on his belly and refusing to move, eat, poop, or pee. Finally, believing he was dying, I rushed him to the emergency room at 3 a.m. Monday. Within minutes of arrival, Ron passed away.

The emergency room vet was not able to detect his blood pressure because it was very low. She gave him oxygen but he was having trouble breathing. She diagnosed an enlarged, painfully bloated abdomen and offered to decompress it with a gastric tube, but it was too late. My little Ron gasped a couple of times and his body jerked under my hands, and then he was gone.

I called his regular vet the following day to try to understand what happened to Ron. She was surprised to hear that he had passed away. She said the last time she checked on him was 2 p.m. Saturday and he was moving about normally. She said something must have happened to him between 2 p.m. and midnight that Saturday. Too much narcotic medication? Opioid overdose? Urinary retention, constipation, and respiratory depression from an overdose of narcotics?

When I left him at the hospital that Thursday, Ron hopped onto my lap, stood up and placed his paws on my chest, and looked into my face. I think he was begging me not to leave him there. I kissed him and told him I would be back to get him Saturday night. I believe that was the last time he recognized me. His last memory was of me leaving him, abandoning him at a hospital.

I feel so guilty. I never should have left him at the hospital. I should have cancelled my flight and stayed home with him. He would still be alive if I had stayed with him. Until October, Ron and I had never been apart a single day since he came home with me in 2011. He was the most affectionate little guy. He would eat dinner with me, watch TV with me, and snuggle with me. Every night, he slept next to me, by my pillow, right next to my face. He would give me kisses before arranging himself so that he could press side against my face. I miss him more than I can say.

He deserved better. My heart is broken. Thank you for allowing me to share Ron's story.

Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy

Hi, Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy, please permit me to offer you my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved Ron. Losing a companion so suddenly can intensify this very painful grief adjustment journey.

I know you know all too well that this grief journey is one of the most painful experiences we will know on this side of eternity. It doesn't get easier with each loss because each companion we are blessed to share our lives and homes with has their own special place in our hearts and each relationship we have with them is uniquely individual. This is why each physical loss we experience is so very painful to endure - - both emotionally and physically.

We share a similar path in the physical loss of our beloved companions. If you have read my topic on My Beloved Noah you will see that he joined the angels in the wee hours of Saturday morning, November 11. This is a particularly heartbreaking loss for me as during this year I was in severe pain, and all during the months until I was finally diagnosed with inflammatory arthritis and began medication my beloved Noah not once let me know his body was being ravaged by cancer - - until Thursday night, November 9, when he began having multiple tummy upsets which required him going to the emergency hospital where during surgery he was discovered to have cancer that was invading most of his vital organs. So I can very much relate to how you're feeling about your beloved Ron. It's a heartache that entrenches our heart and soul no matter how many times we have traveled the grief adjustment journey - - there's never "getting used to it."

I know this deep grief will gradually ease, as I hope it will for you also, so that the both of us can enjoy the many treasured memories we have of our beloved companions. It is comforting for me, and I hope also for you, to know that our beloved companion's sweet Living Spirits are always a part of our hearts and memories -- they are always a heartbeat close to us.

Ron's Mommy, I do hope somehow you will find comfort, support, encouragement, and hope in the words I share with you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Dear moon_beam,

I am so very sorry for your loss of your beloved Noah. I will go to your topic on My Beloved Noah to read and catch up with you.

Please know that I am thinking of you as well and sending you thoughts and prayers of healing of both your physical and emotional pain. Our precious furbabies are the most loving, affectionate, generous little angels! Their love is unconditional. I think that is one of the reasons it hurts so much when we lose them.

This grief, this pain is truly heartwrenching. I am both numb and in pain. My brain remains in a fog of despair. I do not feel like I am in my own body. It takes a herculean effort for me to drag myself out of bed to go to work each morning. At work, I try to force myself to be present, but in reality my mind is not there. I keep thinking about Ron, about how he won't be home to greet me, about how much I want to hold him and talk to him again. Maybe one day...

Thank you, moon_beam, for your kind words of support and understanding. Tonight I will pray for peace and rest for all of us here, including your Noah and my Ron.

Sending you warm hugs,
Ron's Mommy

Hi Hermy's Mommy,

I started reading your post about Ron and started to cry. I lost my Sunny (kitty) on Nov. 13th and have been having a bit of a rough evening tonight. I will finish reading your post tomorrow and will write to you. In the meantime, I am SO sorry about the physical loss of your precious Ron!!! He is still with you and wants you to be okay!!

Kathy
with your other

Dear Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy,

I am SO sorry about what has happened!!

Please, please try not to feel guilty. Ron does not want that. Your intentions were perfect. Your father was ill and you took all the proper precautions for Ron. You could never, ever have anticipated that the vet would have misdiagnosed/overmedicated Ron !! I am having physical feelings of rage toward the medical "mistakes" that the professionals made here. NOT your fault in any way, and Ron knows that. (And on a side note, perhaps the narcotics did offer one thing---they probably kept Ron out of physical pain or mental distress. The next thing he knew was that he was being fully reunited with Hermy, Albus, and Harry.)

Ron is right with you and with Hermy, Albus, and Harry. He---all four of them---just want YOU to be okay, just as you would want for any of them if they had passed before you did.

Is there any chance you would consider taking in another needy soul or 2? Someone would be SO lucky to be able to have you as a Mom. No one could ever replace any of your babies, but maybe in time your babies will guide you to someone else who needs you.

I wanted to share with you what a close friend of mine told me. He'd had a "near-death" type of experience and came away absolutely knowing that our loved ones---human and non-human---are truly in bliss and are right here with us and want more than anything for us to be okay, at all costs. He said that it is seemingly as quick as the blink of an eye, when we will fully join them in that blissful realm. It really is true. This assurance (second to my cat Cubby's presence wub.gif ) has helped me more than anything through the grief over the loss of my Sunny.

Please keep in touch with us here and let us know how you are doing! I will be sending intense prayers your way.

-Kathy

Hi, Ron's Mommy, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I can sooo relate to how you're feeling when you share with us "This grief, this pain is truly heartwrenching. I am both numb and in pain. My brain remains in a fog of despair. I do not feel like I am in my own body. It takes a herculean effort for me to drag myself out of bed to go to work each morning. At work, I try to force myself to be present, but in reality my mind is not there. I keep thinking about Ron, about how he won't be home to greet me, about how much I want to hold him and talk to him again." For awhile I was blessed with numbness which helped to alleviate the enormous feelings of deep grief. Now the numbness has lifted and I am once again immersed in deep grief for my beloved Noah. I can also relate to your situation at work. In previous losses of beloved companions when I was working I was ever so thankful for the privacy of the restroom where I could retreat to compose myself so that I could go back to my desk to resume my work. And then there were the drives home from work when the floodgates of gut-wrenching sobbing would overwhelm me from having the tears bottled up all day at work. And I share your lament about your beloved Ron not being home to greet you. We live in a physically oriented world governed by the five senses of sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell. Every time our companions touch / rub us, kiss / lick us they are chemically imprinting themselves onto us so that they identify us from all the other people on this planet. When they are no longer physically with us, we literally go through a chemical withdrawal from them, and this is one of the many reasons why this grief adjustment journey is so painful - - both emotionally and physically. But knowing this doesn't help stop the pain - - it is little consolation to our heart and soul which yearn for just one more minute, one more hour, one more day - - one more lifetime with our beloved companions.

As our forum friend Kathy has so compassionately reassured you, I also believe one day we will be reunited with our beloved companions in eternal joy. But until it is our appropriate time to join them, this earthly realm can be difficult to adjust to without their sweet Living Spirits physically here to share our daily journey.

Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy, please know you are in my thoughts and prayers that you will know your beloved Ron, and all of your beloved companions, are eternally grateful to you for everything you did for them during their earthly journey. I hope today is treating you kindly, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Dear Kathy,

Thank you so much for your beautiful, kind, and supportive words and thoughts. I really appreciate it!

I am so very sorry to hear about the loss of your sweet Sunny. I need to read your post and catch up with you there as well.

I'm sorry about my late response. Since Ron's passing, I have found that I have very little energy (or interest) to perform my daily activities. Getting up in the morning feels like I'm trying to drag a huge boulder alongside me. I dread coming home from work to find that Ron is not there, reminding me he is really gone.

I truly hope that Ron has reunited with Harry, Hermy, and Albus and has met your dear Sunny on the other side. Thank you also for sharing your friend's experience. I hope and believe that one day I will see all of my little bunnies again!

I'm wishing you a peaceful and restful evening, Kathy. I will write more soon.

Warm hugs,
Hermy, Harry, Albus, and Ron's Mommy

Dear moon_beam,

Thank you so much for your compassionate thoughts and words. I eagerly read and re-read your (and Kathy's) words of wisdom and insight.

I am so sorry for my delayed response. As you have so beautifully described, once the initial numbness has lifted, the deep grief floods in and overwhelms every aspect of every day life. Most days I am lucky to make it to work and back home in one piece, physically and emotionally. I come home looking for Ron in his usual place, only to find his empty litterbox. Most nights I stare blankly at the television, not aware and not watching whatever happens to be on it.

I find that I hope and have to believe that Ron is with Hermy, Harry, and Albus on the other side. I don't want his spirit to be lonely and all alone. I hope he has met your beloved Noah and Kathy's sweet Sunny as well. I truly hope they are all together, comfortable and pain free, and waiting to see us again one day.

I pray you have a restful evening, moon_beam. I will write more soon.

Sending you warm thoughts and hugs,
Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy

Hi, Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I can so relate to and perfectly understand how you're feeling when you share with us "once the initial numbness has lifted, the deep grief floods in and overwhelms every aspect of every day life. Most days I am lucky to make it to work and back home in one piece, physically and emotionally. I come home looking for Ron in his usual place, only to find his empty litterbox. Most nights I stare blankly at the television, not aware and not watching whatever happens to be on it."

Our society is now "high technology" oriented. It has little patience with anything - - or anyone - - who doesn't immediately respond to the whims of the moment. Most things are now "instantaneous" - - except our emotions. We cannot turn our emotions on and off like a light switch or a button on a computer. We are not robots. So when we are faced with life changing events - - such as the physical loss of a beloved companion - - we find ourselves in a chasm of empty emotions that now envelope every aspect of our lives. In this time of "festiveness" our hearts instead feel burdened with the deepest grief we will know on this side of eternity. How on earth is anyone expected to feel "festive" enduring through the burden of deep sorrow? Having to put on the "public face" for coworkers, while we're doing errands, - - and even during family gatherings - - can be a tremendous burden both emotionally and physically. Sadly, sometimes the people who are the closest to us emotionally and physically don't always understand our deepest sorrow and find little effort to comfort us through the arduous grief adjustment journey.

This wonderful forum serves as a safe place where we can come to share what is in our hearts and on our minds with those who we know understand what we are going through for as long and as often as we need to.

Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy, I want to try to reassure you that your beloved companions are now healed and restored to their former youthfulness in the company of other beloved companions and the angels in heaven's perfect garden. And I firmly believe that we will be reunited with all of our beloved companions when it is our appropriate time to join them in eternal joy. Hope is what keeps us going - - keeps us enduring through the difficult times which eventually brings us to better times. Until we are reunited with our beloved companions, we are charged with continuing our earthly journey in a way that will honor the eternal love we are blessed with from our beloved companions.

I hope in some way what I share with you brings you comfort, reassurance, and encouragement as you travel your grief adjustment journey. I hope today, and every day, is treating you kindly, Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy, and that your evenings are blessed with each of your beloved companions' sweet Living Spirits to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam