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Hermy's Mommy
48 years old
Arlington, Virginia
Born Dec-30-1971
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Joined: 25-November 11
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Hermy's Mommy

Pet Lovers

My Content
3 Dec 2017
Greetings, moon_beam, Kathy, and fellow forum members:

I apologize for being away from this forum for a while. I'm back now with a new loss and I am very heartbroken.

I have lost my last bunny Ron. He passed away suddenly and unexpectedly on Monday, November 20, 2017. I have been unable to post about my baby Ron until now. I miss him so much.

I adopted Ron on April 9, 2011 from a rabbit rescue group so that he could join our little bunny family. As some of you know, I lost Hermione in 2011, Albus in 2014, and Harry just last year in 2016. Sweet Ron helped me work through my grief after Harry passed away. But now my precious little Ron is gone too. He was only 7 years old.

I made the unfortunate mistake of leaving Ron at the veterinary hospital on November 16. I should have kept him home and nursed him myself. Instead, I chose to hospitalize/board him for 3 days while I went out of town to visit my father who is very ill. I had been leaving Ron home alone several weekends in a row since early October. I always left him plenty of hay, lettuce, water, and treats. I would leave Friday morning and return Saturday night. A neighbor checked on him the first weekend I was away, and then I set up cameras to monitor him thereafter.

He was doing well until the weekend of November 11. I returned home to find that he had not been eating well or eliminating as he should have been. Like my other bunnies, Ron did not like to drink water, from bottle or bowl. So I immediately started treating him at home for GI stasis with subcutaneously fluids, assist feedings, and medications. I took him to the clinic on Monday, November 13, where he saw another vet filling in for his regular vet. She diagnosed GI stasis and recommended continuing what I was doing at home for Ron. The following day, I called his regular vet to update her about some chalky urine I noticed and ask her for follow-up instructions. She looked at his x-ray from the day before and diagnosed worsening urinary sludge (which the other vet failed to notice). She recommended bringing Ron back in for another x-ray and possible procedure to flush out his bladder.

Ron was recovering well with all of his home treatments. By Wednesday, November 15, he was eating on his own and eliminating well (good poops and adequate urine output). Following his vet's recommendations, I hospitalized him on Thursday, November 16, for repeat x-rays (which looked better) and possible procedure on Friday, November 17. I received daily morning updates on his progress and I also called every night to check on him. I was told he was doing well, no longer needed the procedure, and was moving around normally in the cage. The last update from his vet was Saturday morning (November 18): he was eating, pooping, and peeing; he was hopping around the cage; she was moving him to "boarding status" from "hospitalization." She said I could pick him up that night.

Straight from the airport, I drove to pick up my little guy around midnight. He didn't seem to recognize me at all. He was awake but seemed not to know I was there. More importantly, I found he could not stand up at all. The tech put him in his carrier and Ron just laid there on his belly. He usually stands in his carrier. I should have said something, but I just wanted to take him home. When we got home, I found he could not walk/hop/stand on his own. He would not eat or poop or pee. I was alarmed.

I took him to the emergency clinic early the next morning. I told this vet, who has never seen Ron before, that something was very, very wrong, that Ron could not stand up at all and actually rolled onto his side when I tried to help him stand. The vet said he was just in pain from his arthritis. I also said Ron was not eating or eliminating. He told me that while Ron was hospitalized there, he had given Ron a strong narcotic pain medication (Buprenex). Until then, no one told me Ron was getting an injection of narcotics. The vet gave him another injection of Buprenex and then sent us home with more of the same to use at home (which I refused to give). I specifically asked, "Is Ron dying?" The vet said, "No, we're not there yet." I also asked, "Did Ron have a stroke? Why can't he stand?" The vet said again, "it's his arthritis."

About 4 hours later, I called the clinic again because I was more concerned that Ron had not eliminated or eaten since the day before. I was told to watch and wait and call back Monday. All evening and night I watched Ron closely, but he was just laying on his belly and refusing to move, eat, poop, or pee. Finally, believing he was dying, I rushed him to the emergency room at 3 a.m. Monday. Within minutes of arrival, Ron passed away.

The emergency room vet was not able to detect his blood pressure because it was very low. She gave him oxygen but he was having trouble breathing. She diagnosed an enlarged, painfully bloated abdomen and offered to decompress it with a gastric tube, but it was too late. My little Ron gasped a couple of times and his body jerked under my hands, and then he was gone.

I called his regular vet the following day to try to understand what happened to Ron. She was surprised to hear that he had passed away. She said the last time she checked on him was 2 p.m. Saturday and he was moving about normally. She said something must have happened to him between 2 p.m. and midnight that Saturday. Too much narcotic medication? Opioid overdose? Urinary retention, constipation, and respiratory depression from an overdose of narcotics?

When I left him at the hospital that Thursday, Ron hopped onto my lap, stood up and placed his paws on my chest, and looked into my face. I think he was begging me not to leave him there. I kissed him and told him I would be back to get him Saturday night. I believe that was the last time he recognized me. His last memory was of me leaving him, abandoning him at a hospital.

I feel so guilty. I never should have left him at the hospital. I should have cancelled my flight and stayed home with him. He would still be alive if I had stayed with him. Until October, Ron and I had never been apart a single day since he came home with me in 2011. He was the most affectionate little guy. He would eat dinner with me, watch TV with me, and snuggle with me. Every night, he slept next to me, by my pillow, right next to my face. He would give me kisses before arranging himself so that he could press side against my face. I miss him more than I can say.

He deserved better. My heart is broken. Thank you for allowing me to share Ron's story. sad.gif

Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron's Mommy
14 Feb 2016
I lost my dear bunny Harry suddenly yesterday, Saturday, February 13, 2016. He was the most loving, adorable little rabbit. My heart is broken. It's all my fault that he's gone.

I adopted him on June 27, 2008 from a rabbit rescue organization. They thought he was 2 or 3 years old at that time. Harry and I had never been apart a single day since then. From the beginning, he was an extremely anxious bunny. According to his rescuers, he "was rescued from Prince George's County Animal Management in Maryland. He had been confiscated from the home of an arrested drug dealer who intended to eventually feed him to a snake. When [he] came into Friends of Rabbits he was terrified. After months of living in safety and love, he grew to enjoy being around people. On June 27, 2008 he was adopted."

From the day I brought him home to his last day with me, he lived at home, cage-free, running around the whole place. As he was anxious and hard to handle, I was unable to catch him and hold him for the first few years. Even petting him was a challenge for the first year. Ironically, the first few weeks at home, he developed a habit of hopping onto my bed and sitting next to my pillow, next to my head. He would just look at me. I would wake up to see his cute face staring into my face. When I tried to pet him, he would dash away quickly. In the last couple of years, he finally calmed down enough to really snuggle with me. At night, while I would be reading a book in bed, he would hop onto my bed, right next to my pillow, and back up his fluffy bottom to nuzzle my face and neck. He would sit like that for hours while I read. If I moved a little, he would adjust his position to maintain full contact with my face. Oftentimes, he would turn around and look into my face, making sure we made eye contact, before turning back around and pressing his furry bottom to my face again.

He was the sweetest bunny, eventually trusting me enough to let us be close in the end. Now he's gone. I miss him so much. I can't stop crying.

His health started to decline last summer. I immediately took him to a new vet. His previous vet had made him scream his heart out. His last visit with that vet was disastrous. Even after I warned the vet about how anxious Harry was, he picked him up under his armpits, letting his legs dangle in the air. Harry started screaming bloody murder for at least 15 seconds before he handed Harry off to the technician, who also held him under his arms with his legs dangling in the air. He continued screaming for several seconds more until the technician finally put him on the floor. Harry ran to the corner of the room, scrabbling at the wall, eyes bugged out, his whole body shaking. I ran to pick him up, and as I held him close, he defecated liquid stuff all over me.

I never took him back there again. I should have known then that those vets were incompetent and dangerous. They had killed my baby bunnies Hermione and Albus.

At the new vet clinic last summer, Harry was diagnosed with pneumonia in his right lung, bladder sludge, overgrown teeth, and GI stasis. He liked his new vets and the technicians. He never screamed there. His problems were treated successfully, except for the persistent sludge in his bladder. He went in for a check-up last Friday and the vet found overgrown teeth again, so he had a dental procedure and x-rays that day. His x-rays showed persistent sludge. The vets considered flushing out his bladder that day, but they had already woken him up from anesthesia. They recommended supportive care: fluids, medications. He did well that weekend and the beginning part of last week.

Around Wednesday of last week, he started to behave strangely--bumping my leg with his nose insistently, knocking photos of his deceased mate Hermione onto the floor, chewing cardboard and blankets. I just pet him and didn't investigate further. I should have known something was wrong. By Thursday afternoon, after coming home from work, I noticed he hadn't eaten much, but he had urinated and defecated. By Friday morning, I noticed that he had not urinated or defecated enough and he had not eaten much again. He was acting strangely. He would look up, as if he was looking at something or someone, but there was nothing to look at. He would look up at the glass shower door, but no one was inside. I didn't know if he was looking at his reflection. He had never done these things before. I immediately made a vet appointment for early afternoon.

X-rays showed an enlarged cecum, full of gas, and a sludgy but normal-sized bladder. His urinalysis and blood work were normal, but his temperature was low. They recommended hospitalization, but they allowed me to sit with Harry and massage his belly for several hours. His temperature improved, but he still did not pass any stool or urine. I asked if I could take him home to continue massage and medications overnight, thinking that his anxiety might have been the reason he refused to go to the bathroom. The vet allowed me to do this, advising immediate return to the hospital if he doesn't improve. I massaged his belly hourly throughout the night and gave him his fluids and medications as scheduled. By morning, he had urinated clear urine twice in his litterbox and produced over 20 little poops. I thought he was getting better. I was wrong.

I called to update the vet at 8 a.m. and emailed a photo of his litterbox. The receptionist who answered the phone said Harry has a 9 a.m. appointment scheduled if he is not doing well. I said I thought he was doing better and cancelled that appointment. By the time I got the vet's email at 12:30 p.m., Harry had stopped urinating and defecating again. He was eating a bit though. I called immediately and they told me to bring him in at 5:00 p.m. When I arrived there, they took my poor Harry to the back for x-rays. His bladder was huge! They tried putting in an IV, but it was difficult and required two rounds of sedatives. They tried catheterizing his bladder, but they were unable to pass it in. They recommended cystocentesis right away but allowed me to visit him before that procedure.

My poor, poor Harry! He looked so stressed, breathing rapidly, laying on his side, eyes glazed over. I told him I love him so much. I told him not to die on me. I told him I'm sorry, that this was my fault for not acting sooner. I told him to be strong. I told him I'm not abandoning him. I'm not sure if he heard anything I said. I'm not sure he even knew I was there. I pet him for the last time, stroking his head and side.

They took him for the procedure. Minutes later the vet came to get me from the waiting room. The look on her face said it all. His heart stopped. He was gone. I asked to see him. They were doing CPR on him. He was floppy. His eyes were blank. He was gone. They let me hold him right away. I kissed him over and over. I held him tightly, but he was already gone.

The vet said they took out 80 cc of urine, and then his heart stopped. Oh, Harry!!! It's my fault for letting this happen. He was in so much pain. He was so stressed. I should have taken him in sooner. I should have left him there overnight. This shouldn't have happened. He shouldn't be gone.

I feel awful. I let Harry down. He tried telling me something was wrong, but I didn't listen until it was too late. I miss him so much! I don't know if he's angry with me. I don't know if he knows how much I love him and miss him, how sorry I am for letting this happen to him.

Even though the vet told me that he didn't suffer, I know he did. I let him suffer. And even though the technician said that at least I had one more night at home with Harry that night, I feel he probably would still be alive had I left him there.

I didn't get to hold him or kiss him one more time before he died. My last contact with him while he was still alive was just a stroke of his face and side. He probably thought I was abandoning him and just gave up.

I am heartbroken. I hope my Harry knows I love him. I will always love him.

Thank you for allowing me to share Harry's story.

Harry's Mommy
(Hermy and Albus's Mommy)
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28 Mar 2015
I apologize for my lengthy post. I am all over the place and rambling.

I am devastated, again. I lost my sweet bunny Albus suddenly on Tuesday, March 24, 2015. He was the most precious little white and gray, mixed Netherland Dwarf and English Spot rabbit. I adopted him (along with his sister Hermione) on June 27, 2008 from a rescue organization when he was 6 weeks old. He was my best friend. I lost his sister, Hermione (Hermy), on November 18, 2011, and it destroyed me.

I shouldn’t have taken Albus to the vet last Friday, March 20, 2015. It was a mistake. I will regret it forever.

Albus was diagnosed with sludgy bladder syndrome on November 19, 2013 and received daily bladder expression and medications until his major bladder surgery on December 11, 2013 for bladder stones. He survived surgery and even thrived over the next 15 months. He tolerated his bi-weekly and monthly follow-up visits well, including x-rays, ultrasounds, and bladder expression. His visit on December 16, 2014 was uneventful, except for a new heart murmur that the vet said was so minor he could live years and years with it. The vet recommended follow-up in 3 months for bladder catheterization under anesthesia.

He was doing so well until the vet saw him on Friday, March 20. He was healthy and active, eating, pooping, peeing, playing, sleeping, running, jumping, taking his medications without complaint, doing everything he loved, eating his lettuce, carrots, banana and watermelon (his favorite!). He was urinating freely and comfortably. He was living life and spending his days as the perfect little bun.

I should have done everything differently. I should have picked up his medications, cancelled the appointment, and gone home with him, still alive and well. The vet examined his entire body and said he was doing well. Then he focused on the bladder, squeezing hard to try to express some urine. Immediately, he reacted with pain. He struggled to escape the vet’s hold on him. He was flailing around in his hands, air-pedaling his legs. The vet pressed harder on his bladder. He tried squeezing as Albus was standing on all fours on the exam table. Nothing came out. He squeezed harder. Albus continued to react with pain. One drop of urine came out.

Albus was left in tremendous pain. He immediately bent over and started to lick his penis, then straightened himself and extended posteriorly to strain to urinate, squeaking very loudly in pain. I asked the vet, “Did you hear that? That was him.” He said he didn’t hear anything. Albus bent over again and again to lick his penis. He strained to urinate over and over again, squeaking quietly while standing on a towel on the exam table. I asked the vet, “Why is he doing this? He has never done this before.” Finally, the vet picked him up and flipped him over. He looked at his penis and said, “He’s fine, but he’ll be sore for a day or two.” He asked his technician when the last ultrasound was done. It was in October. The vet said, “Oh, not that long ago.” Even though Albus was still licking and straining on the exam table, the vet didn’t order an x-ray or ultrasound.

The vet instructed me to schedule bladder catheterization under anesthesia for June and told me to put Albus back into his carrier and leave. Albus was miserable on the ride home, not moving around as usual and shedding tears from one of his eyes. The fur under his left eye was wet.

That night and all day Saturday, Albus didn’t eat or poop. He spent Saturday and Sunday drinking water and straining to urinate, squeaking in pain. I gave him some pain medication Saturday and Sunday. He ate a few small pieces of lettuce Sunday night.

Monday morning, I called the vet’s office at 7:59 a.m. and left a detailed message. He called back around 10:15 a.m. and said, “I heard I messed him up.” I told him Albus was in pain since Friday’s visit and had not eaten or pooped, only drinking water and urinating a little bit. He said, “Sounds like you got him through the weekend.” He recommended surgery for the following day, Tuesday, March 24, at 12:00 noon, telling me to drop Albus off by noon Tuesday. He said even if I dropped him off that day, Albus would just sit in a cage overnight until his surgery at noon. He did not tell me to bring you in for evaluation right away that same day. I should have taken him in anyway. Monday night, Albus ate 3 pieces of lettuce and started to urinate more, although with great pain.

I woke up Tuesday morning around 6:30 a.m. to find Albus hiding under the dining table. He was lying flat against the carpet. He was dying. When I scooped his limp body up into my arms, his head started to lean back slowly and he started to close his eyes. I immediately got into the car and drove him to the vet’s office by 7 a.m.

The technicians started Albus on oxygen and gave him injections of pain medication and muscle relaxant, placing him on a towel and warming pad. They said his rapid breathing and fast heart rate were good signs that he was not slowing down. Albus and I then waited for the vet to arrive at 8 a.m. A different vet came in and immediately discussed euthanasia. I told the vet I want him to try to save Albus. He took Albus to the back of the clinic. After about 15 minutes, the vet came to speak to me but wouldn’t let me see him. He said under anesthesia he drained 15 mL of urine with a needle and then catheterized the bladder but had to stop because he had to intubate him. He couldn’t get an IV in. He again told me to think about euthanasia. At that moment, his technician came running to get him. They ran into the back again. A few minutes later the vet came out and said, ““I’m sorry, the little guy didn’t make it. He went into cardiac arrest.” I wasn’t with my little Albus when he died! I asked to see Albus, but they told me to wait in another room. They brought his body to me wrapped in a towel and let me hold him for a while. Then they took his body, packaged him in a small white cardboard box, sealed with packaging tape, and handed the box to me.

One moment Albus is alive and well. The next moment the vet examines him and dooms him to 4 days of excruciating pain before he dooms him to death. I should not have taken Albus on Friday. I should not have let the vet squeeze his bladder. I should not have gone along with his deferring surgery to June. I should have asked again why Albus was suddenly in pain.

The vet left a voicemail message two days ago, acknowledging and “apologizing” for “instigating the events” that led to Albus’s death. He also said that maybe he should have been more aggressive with managing his condition earlier.

I am devastated, completely heartbroken. I feel so guilty about everything. I should have spent more time with him, given him his favorite treats more often. I cannot stop crying and thinking about him. I know he is gone, but I keep looking for him to be here. He was so full of life, so happy and carefree. How could he be gone now?

Thank you for allowing me to share Albus’s story. I love and miss my little bunny so much.

Hermy and Albus's Mommy

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18 Nov 2014
To My Dearest Hermione,

Oh, my beautiful little Hermy! It’s been exactly THREE years since you left us for Heaven. How I miss you every single day!

You are always in my thoughts and prayers, my little bun. We all miss you tremendously. Harry, your hus-bun, and Albus, your brother, would like me to tell you that they miss you and love you so much.

I miss your furry kisses, Hermy. I miss waking up in the middle of the night to find you sitting on my pillow next to my head, busily licking my nose and forehead. I miss seeing you when I come home. I miss your energetic binkies and your squeaks of joy. I miss looking into your bright eyes. I miss scooping you up into my arms and covering your little furry head with kisses. I miss everything about you, Hermy.

Please know, my little baby bun, that I will always love you. Forever and ever.

I look forward to the day when I will see you again and we can all be together once more. I’m sending you all my love and hugs and kisses, my sweet, sweet Hermy.

I love you! I love you! I love you! wub.gif

Love Forever,
Your Bunny Mommy Lisa, your hus-bun Harry, and your brother-bun Albus
18 Nov 2012
To My Dearest Hermione,

Oh, my sweet beautiful little Hermy! It’s been exactly one year since you left us for Heaven. How I still miss you so!

You are in my thoughts and prayers every single day, my love-bun. Harry, your hus-bun, and Albus, your brother, miss you and love you so much. Harry still hops over to the photos of you and kisses you in the pictures. Albus likes to stand up and look at the photos of you on the coffee table.

We all miss you, Hermy. I miss your hugs and kisses. I miss your sitting on my pillow next to my head at night, licking my nose and forehead. I miss seeing you when I come home. I miss your binkies and your squeaky “exclamations” of joy. I miss your adventurous (and mischievous) spirit. I miss everything about you, Hermy. Most of all, I miss YOU!

You are the most charming, spirited, loving, playful, endearing bunny! I wish I could hold you in my arms again and kiss your furry little face. Please know, Hermy, that I love you always and forever.

I hope that one day I will see you again and that we can all be together. I’m sending you all my love and hugs and kisses, my sweet Hermy.

I love you! I love you! I love you! wub.gif

Love Always,
Your Bunny Mommy Lisa

P.S. Special thanks to Bobbie (and Trevor), Greta’s Mom, Cheryl (and Daisy), Bonnie’s Mom, moon_beam, and other fellow Lightning-Strike members for your support and encouragement, without which I would not have made it this far. My sincerest thanks to you all!
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