November 7, 2013

Kind of a tough weekend this past weekend. Got a call a little after 3 AM on Sunday (calls that time of day are never a good thing) from my sister-in-law that her rabbit Cookie (left), one of the famed “Beastie Boys” was in distress. He seemed to have had some kind of a stroke or seizure after appearing to be fine just a few hours earlier. The problem with rabbit issues at that hour is that there are really no veterinarians specializing in exotics (as rabbits are considered) available off-hours, especially on a weekend. If you’ve got a cat choking on a hairball or a dog with a broken leg there are all sorts of 24/7 clinics available for treatment, but with rabbits it’s a whole ‘nutha thing. Tam did the best she could trying to keep Cookie comfortable throughout a long, hard night but come morning it was inevitable that there was little anyone could do and shortly thereafter Cookie passed away in her arms.

Cookie was good rabbit – quiet but mischievous. An observer by nature, we call his type “destructo-rabbit” because, as mellow and laid-back as he seemed, he was the one who would do all the damage to Tam’s carpet by constantly – and I do mean constantly – digging at it under the bed throughout the night. Cookie enjoyed romaine lettuce and parsley and a slice of banana, but what he did best was just keeping an eye on things while his more adventurous mate Floppy (a.k.a. Sherman, like the tank) grabbed life by its throat every way he could. Cookie always seemed to me to be the more fragile of the Beastie Boys – when Tam and I extracted them from a very bad situation in Florida and drove them all the way to Arizona, it was Cookie who we feared most wouldn’t make it. Whereas Sherm seemed to embrace the sheer adventure of it all, Cookie got the motion sickness and suffered most of the way.

Having been there, I understand why Tam is still inconsolable at the trauma of this past weekend. But it’s one of those cases where, if you love a pet as a member of your family, when given the choice between being with them when they pass away or not being there, of course you would want to be there, no matter how hard it would be. I’m sure that at some level, conscious or unconscious, Cookie knew he was with the human who loved him most and was just as sad to leave Tam as she was at seeing him pass. Tam asks where God was when Cookie was struggling through his last hours; I told her God was with Cookie through her – as Jesus said, “Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:21).

Fortunately, we anticipated that sooner or later one of the Beastie Boys would pass away before the other so we gave Butterscotch to Tam after she lost her mate Geronimo last year. The fact that Sherm still has someone to pal around with is important. I’m not sure Cookie ever really accepted Butterscotch as one of the gang – truth be told, I think he felt like the third wheel after Butterscotch crashed their party, as she always seemed to take fancy to Sherm more than he. Nevertheless, as all rabbits do, he adapted and put the best face forward he could. In the end, it wasn’t uncommon to see the two Beastie Boys on either side of Butterscotch, nose to nose to nose in bunny bliss.

Rest in peace, Cookie – you were a good rabbit and your owner misses you dearly.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 00:45 | Comments (2)
  1. Doug:

    Sorry for your loss.
    Thanks for the halloween press.


    Comment by Ron "Cubby" Myerow — November 7, 2013 @ 5:14 pm

  2. Thanks Cub, time to start hitting the driving range before winter sets in!

    Comment by The Great White Shank — November 7, 2013 @ 9:27 pm

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