Earlier this month, on February 4th, we said goodbye to our dear bunny, Buddy (pictured
above with Amanda, our daughter throughout the years). When I mentioned his passing in a recent newsletter, I received so many heartfelt messages from you, and I can’t tell you how much that kindness has meant to me. It is comforting to know that so many people understand just how deeply a pet becomes part of the family.
Buddy
first started displaying serious health challenges back in October, but he had a short revival that gave us a little more time with him. Then, one night, we saw the unmistakable signs—his hind legs had become too weak for him to hop. We knew what the veterinarian would tell us, but that didn’t make it any easier. We spent a long, difficult night knowing that, come morning, we would have to say goodbye.
The vet was able to squeeze us in at 11:00 a.m. I texed Amanda, our college-age daughter who goes to school out of state, and she stayed on FaceTime with us from the moment we left the house for the 30-minute drive to the small animal vet until the very end.
As the vet confirmed, Buddy’s kidney failure (causing his hind leg weakness) had progressed, and there was no chance of recovery. As any loving pet owner knows, hearing those words is heartbreaking, no matter how prepared you think you are.
Wanting to honor
Buddy in the best way we could, we opted for a private cremation, a service the vet offered. This allowed us to keep his ashes, along with a special paw print, as a meaningful way to remember him. Having these small but significant mementos has brought us comfort in these weeks without him.
When we got home, Joe—our family's rock—took
the lead on gathering Buddy’s things. Some items were too worn or personal to keep, but we were able to donate a second bag of supplies to the humane society, hoping they would help another small animal in need.
Even now, weeks later, I still catch myself looking
for Buddy. The house feels emptier without him, and I think it always will. But we are holding on to the joy of having had him in our lives for so long—11 years, far longer than his breed’s typical lifespan.
Grieving a pet is real, and it’s important to allow
ourselves the space to mourn. But in these past few weeks, we’ve also been focusing on the memories—on celebrating Buddy’s life rather than dwelling on those final moments. Here’s what has been helping:
1) Talking about Buddy – We bring him up in conversation often, sharing little stories about his personality, his
quirks, and the funny things he used to do. Keeping his memory alive feels better than trying to avoid the subject.
2) Looking through photos and videos – It’s amazing how much joy can come from seeing old photos, especially the ones that make us laugh. Watching videos of him hopping around like his younger self is
bittersweet but comforting.
3) Expressing gratitude – Instead of focusing on the pain of losing Buddy, we remind ourselves how lucky we were to have him for so long. He was a part of our family’s story for over a decade, and that’s a gift.
4) Honoring him in our own way – Whether it’s donating his things to help other animals, lighting a small candle, keeping his ashes and paw print in a special place, or just setting aside a moment to remember him, we find ways to keep his spirit close.
If you’ve ever lost a pet, you know that the love never truly goes away. They leave their mark on our hearts, and even though the grief is real, the memories are what remain.
Thank you again for all of your kind words and prayers. It
means the world to me and my family.
