Today I lost a beautiful friend. She held on so we could say goodbye, and I love her. We spent 6 short [but they seemed long] months together. I remember the first day she came to our house in a white wire mesh box and nosily, but nervously, explored my living room. With soft and emo white hair on her forehead and pinky blue eyes I fell for Miss Poppy. A nine year old pedigree Himalayan used by a pet shop as a breeding machine for years. She was kept in a filthy cage, at the bottom of a dirty garden and had lots and lots of babies. For six months she lived in her own private suite [read my office], basked in the sunshine and went outside and waved her fringe in the wind on the first warm spring afternoon we had her company. She did not like Sam at first but over evenings of mini carrots and gentle talking they made good friends. She would wait with her feet on the edge of the bars for her nightime treat. Before trying to whip off with it.
She hated the hoover, was very suspicious of the electric toothbrush and loved to hide behind the sofa. She left us two pee stained patches and a ripped up section of carpet behind the office sofa. On nights we would hear her stomping upstairs around dinner time, but late weekend breakfasts were never taken with offence. I have never know a rabbit so quiet they could sleep in the next room and never wake you.
On her last night with us Poppy pinched a grape off Sam. We realised she was having trouble and she slept in our room. The next lunchtime she went calmly, and as cool as a cucumber after hugs, kisses and a few warm tears. There is a hole in our home and our hearts that will not be filled, and we thank her so very much for waiting for us to say goodbye.
