When Hearts Break

My daughter lost her beloved bunny in a tragic way. Tuvia, her adorable rabbit, whom she rescued two years ago was chased to death by my wiener dog. Schnitzel didn't seemingly actively kill the rabbit, but bunnies have a defense mechanism where their hearts stop when under attack. In a matter of seconds, she was panicked and gone. She lay frozen on my kitchen floor, just newly dead, on her side as if she were sleeping. My eldest child, Christine, noticed the kitchen door open and went to see. In a single moment her heart was utterly shattered. Her best friend lie dead on the ground with the dog standing guard as if he understood he had destroyed the person he loved so dearly. Tuvia did not have a mark on her. Christine gutted and screaming begged me to look and see if Tuvia was indeed dead. I got on my knees, picked up her gorgeous bunny and knew for certain we would never be the same again.
The sounds that came from my daughter still haunt me. The image of Tuvia on her side, still, not breathing, appears in my dreams. I got a towel, wrapped up little Tuvia and placed her in my sobbing daughter's arms. She held her as long as she could and the tears never stopped. "I will never have another rabbit like her," she cried into her bunny. No, she never will. Christine had raised Tuvia from an infant bunny. Tuvia had been rescued and brought to a pet store where Christine had found her and kept her alive. Christine wasn't just owner of Tuvia, she was Mama. Tuvi followed her around, kept her safe from intruders of heart and body, kept her warm when she had no heat, slept next to her, taking in her warmth and love. Tuvi was and will always be the saving grace that kept my girl going during an extremely dark time in her life. The loss of her was and is unfathomable.
Later I took Christine out to look for another bunny. No one could take Tuvi's place, but I felt certain Christine needed someone else to focus on to get past her grief. Christine continues to face the challenges of grieving her friend, but the new arrival helps to ease the utter loneliness. When their father passed away, I felt such responsibility for my kids. My focus went to them, lest I fall into the abyss of despair. I wanted Christy to have that focus, that distraction to help mend her heart.
We went to a pet store, not far from home. We walked in and tear stained, rumpled, us went in search of help to find a small bunny. The girl looked at us, we, I am sure, looked just left of slightly crazy. She directed us to large clear boxes containing several small rabbits. Christine was distracted, looking back near the entrance of where we came in. I lost her for a moment and was worried she was not coping, feeling overwhelmed. I was worried she might leave, thoughtlessly wandering out into the cold. I turned and caught a glimpse of her heading toward a back room where only employees were allowed. I fast walked my way to her very concerned for her state of mind. She had a laser like focus on a cage behind glass windows. Without hesitation, she walked into the "Employees Only" door and went to the cage of a single small rabbit, who was standing on his back feet staring directly at her.
What I witnessed was nothing short of amazing, miraculous. Christy had seen the bunny the minute we got into the door. He had immediately stood up on his hind legs waiting for her to come get him. They instinctively knew something, that very few of us understand. The bunny, a male, born on November 8, her father and my anniversary, chose her. He is brown, with a white tail, wide forehead and mischief in his eyes. When he looks at Christy, it melts my heart because he so obviously loves her. Christy never choosing to name her pets any other way than to honor them with human names, has decided to call him Jim.
Jim chose Christy to love and Christy chose Jim. He doesn't know it yet, but he won the lottery with choosing my girl. I have no idea why he stood up for so long waiting for her to come get him, but somehow his tiny baby bunny mind knew he was about to fall head over paws in love with the most beautiful girl.
Jim now lives in the kitchen in a giant cage, being let out to wander and play as I cook and Christy studies French. The dogs are being trained that the kitchen is off limits. We have blocked the doors from any nosy animals wanting to check out our new arrival. Jim has lived here a little over a month. He is playful, sweet, litter trained and deeply in love with my girl. He sits in the over sized kitchen window, lazily sleeping as he watches the wind and the squirrels.
I have a deep affection for Jim because he helped save my little girl. Every day Jim loves Christy more and more, helping heal her very broken heart. We speak of Tuvia in hushed voices, still. I remain so very sorry, my rock headed dog did the unthinkable, breaking my girl's heart.
For those who have lost the love of their life, in furry form, know I feel you to my bones. My pets are part of my family. Asti, our old dog, now fifteen years old, has been my best friend when friends were hard to come by. I would take a bullet for her, because she has guarded me all of her life. Tuvia is buried outside the kitchen window, under a tree, where Michael said a quiet little prayer over our darling, little furry girl. It is the same window Jim watches out everyday. I feel her watching out for tiny Jim, looking over Christy, too, with all the love her furry heart could hold.