My rabbit is sick.
I have two rabbits: Peter and Annabelle. Peter is a small brown rabbit with white tail, and Annabelle is bigger and black and has floppy ears. I never really planned on being a rabbit owner...it just sort of happened.
At any rate, this morning Peter was all lethargic, and I fretted until I could bring him to the vet, and she told me he has pneumonia, and rabbits don't normally come back very well from illness, but I should go ahead and give him antibiotics and force feed him with a little syringe every three hours tonight.
And I thought to myself...this is silly. He's a rabbit. People eat rabbits. He's had a good life.
And then I told her I'd take the antibiotics. So tonight will be a long night.
Right now he's resting in the little nest I made for him of a hot water bottle wrapped in a towel, and I'm fretting more and wishing that there was something I could do, but there isn't. And it all makes me sad but also grateful that our little hearts can expand so much with love, stupid love that makes us do stupid things because we really are tender little creatures ourselves.
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