Call me Beowulf.
I woke up yesterday morning to find Grendel dead in the cage. She was stretched out in the litterbox with one rear leg cocked at a weird angle and urine soaking her underside. I didn't realize what was wrong at first, until I saw that she wasn't breathing and had her paws in a really weird position that would have been cute if it wasn't an immediate cause for concern. When I picked her up I could feel that she had been gone a while.

What the fuck? She was fine last night. I bet she hurt herself trying to get away from Sunday and his turbocharged bunny libido because you still haven't gotten him neutered yet and didn't put them in separate cages, idiot.

I put her on an old towel and took her into the bathroom, where I cleaned her up. Other than the leg, I didn't notice anything wrong with her. As I worked on wiping all of the urine off, she started to warm up from my body heat and get a little more pliable, and her stomach made an occasional click or gurgle.

There! She made a noise! Maybe this is some kind of weird rabbit stasis and she's coming out of it. Anytime now she's gonna look up and give me the stinkeye, indignantly hop out of my lap, and run back to the cage to finish eating her kale!



MOVE, FUCKER!







I SAID MOVE!

My face twisted and I had to resist the urge to shake her, yell at her, do anything that might evoke a reaction. Finally I just sat there on the toilet lid and cried, clutching Grendel and stinking of bunny piss.