Siamang (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} siamang) wrote,@ 2003-08-03 18:14:00 |
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Sad Times, and Rainbow Bridges
I've been reluctant to post this because I know it may be met with misunderstanding and outrage, but I think it's important and might make some of you view how to handle the loss of a loved pet from a new, life-affirming perspective.
Grendel passed away recently. She was a wonderful bun who loved head rubs and fresh parsley, and would do the biggest silly binkies when I let her out of the cage in the mornings. She crossed the rainbow bridge far too soon. She made me so happy when she was alive, and I miss her terribly already now that she's gone.
I don't like the traditional methods of dealing with a deceased pet. Cremation seems so inhumane. I mean, burning your pet's body? I think that's kind of medieval and causes a lot of pollution. Burial is better but it felt like I was just throwing her away to rot if I did that. So I thought about the story of the rabbit jumping into the fire and realized that Grendel would have wanted to give me every last little bit of joy possible, and I should do something truly personal with her body. I decided to make a fancy dinner with her.
I apologized for cutting into her beautiful fur and prepared to skin her in preparation for a funeral meal. It took a lot longer than I thought and was pretty messy since I had no idea how to get the skin off or which bits I needed to remove and she was already kind of stiff, but I finally was left with a couple of decent cuts of meat. While I marinated her I also sliced up some veggies for myself and my surviving dwarf bunny, Sunday.
Sunday had been withdrawn and upset. Normally he's a little scamp, running around constantly and trying to poke his nose into everything. He loves his fresh greens and will sit up and beg for a bit of banana, but for the past day he hadn't eaten anything at all and hadn't moved except to come up and nudge me a lot because he missed Grendel and wanted someone to pet him. I hoped that if I sat down on the floor and shared dinner with him, he might cheer up a little.
Finally, Grendel was done.
I said a prayer of thanks over the food and we sat down to eat. It was a delicious meal, and I took every bite while thinking of all the wonderful moments that Grendel and me and Sunday had together. Goodbye, Grendel.
I've been reluctant to post this because I know it may be met with misunderstanding and outrage, but I think it's important and might make some of you view how to handle the loss of a loved pet from a new, life-affirming perspective.
Grendel passed away recently. She was a wonderful bun who loved head rubs and fresh parsley, and would do the biggest silly binkies when I let her out of the cage in the mornings. She crossed the rainbow bridge far too soon. She made me so happy when she was alive, and I miss her terribly already now that she's gone.
I don't like the traditional methods of dealing with a deceased pet. Cremation seems so inhumane. I mean, burning your pet's body? I think that's kind of medieval and causes a lot of pollution. Burial is better but it felt like I was just throwing her away to rot if I did that. So I thought about the story of the rabbit jumping into the fire and realized that Grendel would have wanted to give me every last little bit of joy possible, and I should do something truly personal with her body. I decided to make a fancy dinner with her.
I apologized for cutting into her beautiful fur and prepared to skin her in preparation for a funeral meal. It took a lot longer than I thought and was pretty messy since I had no idea how to get the skin off or which bits I needed to remove and she was already kind of stiff, but I finally was left with a couple of decent cuts of meat. While I marinated her I also sliced up some veggies for myself and my surviving dwarf bunny, Sunday.
Sunday had been withdrawn and upset. Normally he's a little scamp, running around constantly and trying to poke his nose into everything. He loves his fresh greens and will sit up and beg for a bit of banana, but for the past day he hadn't eaten anything at all and hadn't moved except to come up and nudge me a lot because he missed Grendel and wanted someone to pet him. I hoped that if I sat down on the floor and shared dinner with him, he might cheer up a little.
Finally, Grendel was done.
I said a prayer of thanks over the food and we sat down to eat. It was a delicious meal, and I took every bite while thinking of all the wonderful moments that Grendel and me and Sunday had together. Goodbye, Grendel.
