Remember White Rabbit















Yesterday morning when we arrived home from Willy's Friday morning appointment, I noticed that Little Wee was lying strangely on the bunny rug. She didn't react to me at all, and upon closer inspection, I discovered that she'd passed away while we were out. Thinking back, she had been behaving differently in the past few days, like sitting in the corner and looking at the wall, rather than out into the room as usual. And she'd been sitting a lot in the bunny house, which is usually Waboose's domain, being the scaredy cat that he is.
Little Wee was only four years old. I'd had her since she was just a tiny baby bunny, and she grew into a pretty white rabbit.




















But at six months of age she came down with a case of tilt head, from which she never completely recovered. Sometimes it was better, and sometimes it got worse, but all in all, her quality of life was good, though she was the butt of many jokes. She always played and fought with Waboose, ate, drank, and was also always happy to meet new people, even if they did say mean things about her tilted head. This illness was probably the cause of her early death, because even with a good quality of life, the disease does shorten a bunny's life expectancy.















Wee leaves behind her human family and her bunny husband, Waboose. They didn't have any children, because Waboose was neutered as a young buck. Wee did try to have a baby with a previous boyfriend (Najimo), but that pregnancy resulted in a stillbirth.

Now we have to observe Waboose carefully, because he's never lived alone before. Before I saved him from a certain death in the jaws of a crocodile at the zoo, he had lived with his mom and siblings, then he always had Wee for company. Even when Wee was away for a matter of hours at the vet, he always showered her with attention when she returned. This could prove to be a very difficult period for Boose.




















Goodbye, Little Wee.