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Well... I made it a tradition to goodbye all my deceased pets with a drawing. And much too early, here is my tribute to Simba, who went this morning at roughly 9:20 am. While he left by no means peacefully, I really want to imagine it was a relief for him. I knew he probably wouldn't get as old as his father, but I was hoping he could happily live for a bit longer, now that we finally found medicine that worked.

I think it might have been a heart attack. When I looked at him I wanted to carefully pick him up and put him on the sofa where he always cuddled into his blanket when he didn't feel well. Usually that would help him relax, but as soon as I lifted him a bit he just started screaming. God it was horrible. I have never heard one of my rabbits scream before, or any rabbit I personally handled. I can't get over these screams, what if I hurt him? After he started screaming I put him back down, where he calmed again a little for a few seconds. These few seconds where the moment I hoped he would get better again, but shortly after he dropped to the side, kicking and shaking horribly. My mother still wanted me to pick him up, but I didn't. At that moment I realised I couldn't do anything for him anymore except for being there for him in these moments. While he was getting weaker I just petted his ears, where he liked it most, he wheezed a few times before going completely still. It feels like he left so fast, but I know he took almost ten minutes at least. I wish he hadn't died in a way like that, but I was glad I could at least be there for him, like he was for me all this time. I still feel his gentle nudging when he wanted a treat or attention and his little tongue when he licked my hand or face. I still see him playing with Lillith and jumping around with joy in his good times, or the way he got excited when I rattled the treat box and called him over.

He was 7 years old, born on 6th June 2008. I still remember when I first saw him, his eyes still closed and without fur. He sticked out from his siblings, because he was the only one that looked white. He had three brown siblings, and two black ones. Neither of them had white markings that big either. He was just that little special kitten. Everyday I visited my friend, because she owned Simbas mother, and each day I saw him growing up. I was the first one to touch him with bare hands because he almost fell out of the cage. A few days later he opened his eyes, and another few months after he moved in with us. A little fluffy white bundle full of energy. He became really clingy, in our old home he even slept in my mothers bed. There is just so many happy memories with him. And even the less happy moments seem so happy with him, because he was always there. I could just lay there and cuddle my face into him for hours and he'd just nap and be there. I just knew I wasn't alone.

To be short. I thank him for being around those years. I wish I could have done more for him.

Description
Well... I made it a tradition to goodbye all my deceased pets with a drawing. And much too early, here is my tribute to Simba, who went this morning at roughly 9:20 am. While he left by no means peacefully, I really want to imagine it was a relief for him. I knew he probably wouldn't get as old as his father, but I was hoping he could happily live for a bit longer, now that we finally found medicine that worked.

I think it might have been a heart attack. When I looked at him I wanted to carefully pick him up and put him on the sofa where he always cuddled into his blanket when he didn't feel well. Usually that would help him relax, but as soon as I lifted him a bit he just started screaming. God it was horrible. I have never heard one of my rabbits scream before, or any rabbit I personally handled. I can't get over these screams, what if I hurt him? After he started screaming I put him back down, where he calmed again a little for a few seconds. These few seconds where the moment I hoped he would get better again, but shortly after he dropped to the side, kicking and shaking horribly. My mother still wanted me to pick him up, but I didn't. At that moment I realised I couldn't do anything for him anymore except for being there for him in these moments. While he was getting weaker I just petted his ears, where he liked it most, he wheezed a few times before going completely still. It feels like he left so fast, but I know he took almost ten minutes at least. I wish he hadn't died in a way like that, but I was glad I could at least be there for him, like he was for me all this time. I still feel his gentle nudging when he wanted a treat or attention and his little tongue when he licked my hand or face. I still see him playing with Lillith and jumping around with joy in his good times, or the way he got excited when I rattled the treat box and called him over.

He was 7 years old, born on 6th June 2008. I still remember when I first saw him, his eyes still closed and without fur. He sticked out from his siblings, because he was the only one that looked white. He had three brown siblings, and two black ones. Neither of them had white markings that big either. He was just that little special kitten. Everyday I visited my friend, because she owned Simbas mother, and each day I saw him growing up. I was the first one to touch him with bare hands because he almost fell out of the cage. A few days later he opened his eyes, and another few months after he moved in with us. A little fluffy white bundle full of energy. He became really clingy, in our old home he even slept in my mothers bed. There is just so many happy memories with him. And even the less happy moments seem so happy with him, because he was always there. I could just lay there and cuddle my face into him for hours and he'd just nap and be there. I just knew I wasn't alone.

To be short. I thank him for being around those years. I wish I could have done more for him.