Yesterday I lost my twelve-year-old bunny.

The ex got her for my birthday all those years ago, when she was four months old. She hated me pretty much from day one.

“Skyla, you’re a crazy cat lady! All animals love you!”

No, not this one.

I spent years reading up on rabbit behavior trying to get her to like me. Eventually she reached the point where she’d take a treat from me, but that was it. She was territorial and stomped when I came near her, and often growled and tried to bite if I had my hand in the cage to clean it for any reason. And really, it was JUST me. She responded well to other humans and all other animals.

Maybe it’s because originally we thought she was a boy and she didn’t like this.

The pet store said she was male and as she wouldn’t let me check, I assumed they were correct (they weren’t). Initially I wanted a bunny named Othello but once I got her, it became apparent that wasn’t her name. I went with Caboose from Red vs Blue, because he is one of the greatest characters ever, and I found myself calling “Caboose!” with an exasperated sigh every time she thumped at me. (Plus I was pretty sure she’d kill me with a tank if she got the chance.)

While she hated me, she LOVED the cats.

When she was little, I had a young cat who used to play with her all the time. They’d chase each other around a chair in the living room and when Caboose went back in her cage, she’d lie against the side of it and Malory would lie on the other side so they’d be back to back. Now, even in her later years, her BFF was my kitty the Doombuggy, who would curl up in the cage with her all the time.

Even as a senior, when you’d think she’d be mellow, she never grew to like me very well, but she tolerated my presence as long as I gave her strawberry yogurt treats (and god help me if I didn’t). She was crotchety and tolerated no bullshit; if the cats got playing around her cage, she’d thump at them as if banging her cane on the floor to say “GET OFF MY LAWN.” Basically, she is what I plan to be when I’m an old lady.

The most Caboose-like moment I will ever remember is from several years ago.

It was summer and we lived in a townhouse with a small fenced-in backyard. I let Caboose out to play in the grass, and Sophie and the kitties were out as well. My ex had a young (not quite a year old) kitty who was a barn cat and an absolutely little terror.

The grass was long and I watched the kitten stalking through it, body low to the ground, heading after Caboose. Unlike some of my other cats and dog, I had no doubt the kitten would attack her–he just had that wild streak in him. I started to rise from the patio chair, ready to yell at him, as Caboose had her back to him and she’d never see him coming.

Just as he bolted through the grass, Caboose turned and darted toward him.

She ran several feet and bit him; the cat yelped, spun, and hightailed it up the fence where he stared down warily.

Caboose went back to eating grass. The kitten never went near her again.

That’s my girl.

At the end of March, Mum ended up taking in a new dog. In a nutshell, a coworker knew of a family who no longer wanted the dog, and she couldn’t take it but she knew the conditions the dog was living in, and Mum couldn’t bear to see her kept in that situation either, so she took her in.

Her name was Molly.

She was a Great Dane/Mastiff cross, three years old. Ridiculously underweight. Pressure sores on both sides of her body from lying on cement most of the time. The family, who’d had her since she was a puppy, said she was “too big” for the house, so kept her (reportedly) in a garage, where she went unwalked, unnoticed, and I question if she ever had suitable food or water. Her ears were infected, she clearly had a skin allergy, and when confronted with these facts, the owners denied knowing anything was wrong with her. Her collar was extended as far a it would go and was too tight; if she gained any weight, it would’ve embedded in her skin.

Molly seemed to be fitting in with her new family–three new canine siblings, good quality food, constant access to water, and regular play time in the backyard. She was sweet, friendly, and gentle. She didn’t quite know how to play with toys, though she was learning.

But her health still wasn’t great. Despite vet-prescribed medication cleaning up her ears, and new food to improve her coat and skin health, something was still wrong. She became depressed, sensitive to touch, and stopped eating, and was rushed back to the vet yesterday where she was put on an IV, a heating blanket, and monitored while they figured out what her bloodwork said.

Molly died in the night.

The vet still isn’t certain, exactly, what killed her in technical terms; her entire system was on the fritz according to her bloodwork. But what is certain is that this didn’t happen to her in thirteen days. This is weeks if not months of neglect. This is a dog who was exhibiting symptoms–loss of appetite, depression, lethargy–for at least several weeks prior to her death. Symptoms that any reasonable owner, who paid the slightest bit of attention, would have noticed, investigated, and had treated. I will grant that, without knowing precisely what was wrong with her, maybe, MAYBE, her early death was always in the cards. But her suffering was entirely preventable.

“At least she’s in a better place” doesn’t work for me. BECAUSE THIS SHOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED. And if my mum hadn’t gotten her, Molly would’ve continued to suffer without vet care, love, or attention until she eventually died alone.

This dog was killed by neglect on the part of irresponsible humans.

• It is not difficult to open google and search for different dog breeds before deciding on a puppy. If you live in a small house, get a small dog. Don’t be afraid to ask shelter workers about the animal you’re considering to find something compatible. Everything is cute and furry but hamsters, for example, are nocturnal and not great pets for kids; rabbits are often not big on cuddling and not great for small children either. Research. GREAT DANES WILL BECOME FUCKING HUGE.
• Animals are a lifelong commitment. In many cases, this means devoting fifteen to twenty years. Not an “until they’re inconvenient”(“we had a baby”, “we had to move”, “it’s sick”, “we got divorced”, etc) commitment–LIFELONG.
• Do not get pets for your children. Molly was, reportedly, the kids’ puppy, and they didn’t walk her or take care of her. When you get a pet for your kid, remember 99% of the time the responsibility to care for it–whether it’s a hamster or a dog–will fall on you. If you are not prepared for that, get them a stuffed toy instead.
• To go with all of the above, pets are not presents. Easter is around the corner and stupid people will be buying bunnies and chicks for their kids. DO NOT DO THIS. Rabbits? They are not inexpensive pets. Did you know females need to be spayed? How about the fact that they can live 10-12 years? (Mine is 11 next month.) They require the same upkeep cats do.
• Kids learn from adult examples. If you don’t walk or care for your pet, they won’t either.
• Know your pets. I realize I am in a unique position of being home all day with mine, but even the times when I wasn’t, I knew my animals. They can’t tell you how they feel. You have to rely on cues like behavior changes, weight loss, bathroom habits. Dogs hide some pain but cats are fucking fantastic at faking it.
• Find a good local veterinarian. This is exactly like getting a doctor as a human: you need someone compatible with you, good with your animals, and if money’s an issue, find one who is upfront about fees and considerate of your budget (mine is).
• And then take your fucking animals to the vet. I realize vet visits aren’t cheap. But they will always be more expensive IF YOU PUT THEM OFF. Vets *want* to help animals and they understand budgetary concerns, believe me. And you will at least be able to tell yourself you did all you could if the animal passes.
• Put your pets on good food. Have a dog? Get them the fuck off of Beneful and all that shit. Start here. Again, good food is more expensive, but Molly’s ear infection and skin problems were allergies (I suspected grain). I’ve talked before about the importance of proper nutrition and how so many of these cheap, shit foods cause serious health problems. Understand what nutritional needs different animals require and how best to meet those needs.

I was going to say “Sorry for this turning into a lecture/rant” but, you know, I’M NOT SORRY. Because most of my cats came in off of the streets or from shelters, abandoned. I work with an animal organization. I talk with the local pet food store about the people who come in wanting bunnies for their small children. I see and hear about, damn near daily, the animals discarded because they’re inconvenient, or expensive, or no longer cute/novel. The animals who needlessly die because of neglectful humans.

The guardianship of an animal is a sacred responsibility. The entire care for another life rests on your shoulders. They have no voice, no options, and they live and die by the choices we make for them. Sometimes sickness and early death is unavoidable, it’s true. But not prolonged suffering.

Molly, a three-year-old dog who was entirely healthy when spayed as a puppy, should not have died.

Whoever you are reading this, wherever you are, be responsible for your pets. Teach that responsibility to your children. Speak up when you see an animal neglected or abused. Spay/neuter. Volunteer. Care. Realize that it is an honor and a privilege to be a guardian for another life.

And on the very slim chance Molly’s previous family comes across my blog: I will mince no words and say this is your fault. And it is in your best interest to turn around and walk the other way if our paths ever cross.

Rest in Peace, Molly.

April 2011 – April 2014