The house feels empty tonight.
I’m awake and probably will be for some time. I’m sure my
wife’s in the bedroom struggling to fall asleep and will be awake for a while
too. The dog is probably fast asleep, but bless her heart, she’s been confused
all night.
It’s a sad night in the Spivey household. Harvey, our dearly
loved seven-year old rabbit, died tonight. I’m crying again now. I’ve done this
off and on all night. Thinking about her does that to me. My wife was so upset
she actually vomited. How can a little ball of fluff do this to people?
I loved Harvey the moment I saw her when she couldn’t have
been longer than a No. 2 pencil. When we didn’t know that she was a she and she
ended up with a boy’s name – named after the old James Stewart movie where he
befriends an invisible human-sized rabbit.
She was among a litter born of two rabbits my parents owned.
Aprille, my now wife, then girlfriend, knew we’d end up with one of the babies,
but we differed on which one we wanted. There
was a small gray one by wife wanted. It was energetic. Most of these babies
sprawled out on my parents’ couch were energetic – running about, looking cute
as can be. There was a tiny brown and white one though that wasn’t going all
out. It would walk a little bit and stop and sleep. Walk a little bit and stop
and sleep. Something about this behavior endeared this rabbit to me. It’s
beautiful multi-colored coat did, as well.
The decision was made, maybe too unilaterally, but Harvey
was ours.
It’s particularly hard to write this because I don’t see
Harvey in my peripheral view. My writing desk in the living room of our small
apartment sits right next to where Harvey’s pen was – we’ve already cleared the
apartment of her space. I didn’t think we could bear to look at it without her
lying in it or hopping around or chewing on her food/hay. My computer chair sat
a mere six inches from the side of her pen and sometimes she’d lay right there
by me as I wrote. If I paused or lost my train of thought I could look down and
see this gigantic rabbit and smile or laugh or reach down between the holes of
the pen and pet her on her head. She loved being pet on her head, right between
her ears.
That’s the great thing about a rabbit. They’ll make you
smile. They actually aren’t the kind of pets that want to be handled much. They
don’t really like being held or grabbed. They’re very low on the food chain and
they realize it and even after seven years of being pet, fed and loved they don’t
get used to being held. But, they love being pet if you get down on their level
to do it or when they finally relax while sitting on your lap.
Harvey would always make Aprille and I smile. Just looking
at her face could do it, but the greatest thing would be when she’d lay down in
her cage or on the living room floor while running around the apartment.
Rabbits don’t just lay down. They flop. They hurl their bodies with great force
from a standing position to their side. It’s hilarious. I’m really going to
miss that. I’m really going to miss the feeling of holding a treat down in
front of her face and feeling her nibble it right from your fingertips too.
Harvey would be the first thing I’d see every morning when I
woke up and made my way down the hallway to the kitchen and living room. She’d
be the last thing I saw every night before turning out the hallway light to go
to the bedroom. That has a way of becoming routine. How am I supposed to begin
and end my days without this lovely creature looking up at me with her noise
twitching? What is tomorrow going to be like?
I hope Harvey knows how much we loved her. I hope we meant
as much to her as she did to us. The house just feels empty. I don’t know what
else to say.
