My Precious Harry Options

[Hermy's Mommy]

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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