Bunny Boston died on Monday.
I am at my mom's now and I can't bring myself to go into my old bedroom, the room that Boston has spent more time in than me. She was a sweet and incredibly adorable bunny who loved to be loved. There used to be a toddler gate at the door of my room. It's not there anymore.
My mom called me on Monday night while I was in the grocery store in front of the hot dog section. I couldn't really believe it. I went numb. I remember saying to my mom, "I don't want to talk about it," to which she replied, "I saw her die!" And I could hear her sobs through my telephone.
I am sad that I wasn't a better owner for her, that I wasn't around more to look after her. I should have tried to make her life better than it was. Being the caretaker for a living, breathing thing is such a precious responsibility and it pains me to think that I didn't do the best job I could.
My only comfort is that Boston is in Bunny Heaven now, being loved by God and her other bunny friends.
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