Sarah Nigbor

When I was a little girl, I lived with my mom and grandparents and my grandmother was a no-nonsense woman who despised, actually abhorred the idea of animals being in the house. Thus, I was allowed only a pet Beta fish, because it didn’t leave fur or pawprints on her floors. Priscilla the Beta was my pride and joy – until she ended upside down floating in the tank.

Having pets is wonderful, but it’s devastating when their time comes to cross the Rainbow Bridge. Our family had an unexpected pet death this past Sunday when we had to put my daughter’s 9-year-old Mini Rex to sleep.

We purchased Henry for Carolina when he was just a year-old. She wanted to show rabbits in 4-H (like her mother), so we bought two Mini Rexes from a local breeder: A black one and a brown one, both with velvety soft dense fur and curious eyes. Our boys fought over what to name the black bunny, with original monikers such as “Blackie” and “Coal.” They finally settled on Star Hawk, because stars are in the black night sky and attending school at Baldwin-Woodville, they had loyalty to the Blackhawks. Combine the two and you get the name Star Hawk. My husband could never remember it and kept calling the bunny Stardust, so that actually became his name. Go figure.

Carolina, also being original, wanted to name her bunny “Brownie,” but we told her no color names were allowed because they’re boring. I have no idea how she settled on Henry, but it fit. The first day we got him, he was a wild man, tearing all over our basement, hiding under furniture, darting away from children’s hands, generally being a giant pain in the you know what.

It took some time, but Carolina was able to tame him into a calm, loving show bunny who seemed to love his time at the Pierce County Fair. She also trained him in rabbit agility (an obstacle course) and dressed him in the rabbit costume contest. She was delighted to take two costume grand champions with Henry: She was a tree and he was a sloth; the next year she was a giant sunflower and he was a bumble bee.

As time marched on, Henry was joined by Gilbert and Harleigh. He eventually became an accidental father with Harleigh, who had four babies. Note: even if two bunnies are in separate cages next to each other, where there is a will there is a way and they can do the deed. Unless it was the immaculate rabbit conception. Wouldn’t that be something! Let’s just say it was a shock to find four tiny babies in a nest in Harleigh’s cage. Henry’s chest was puffed out next door, looking like a proud father.

Henry became the old man of the rabbit bunch; Carolina decided that last year was his last year at the fair; he had earned a well-deserved retirement with multiple ribbons under his bunny belt. He could munch on his beloved timothy hay and dandelions all he wanted without worrying about getting too chubby for judging. His protégé and son Lake was going to carry on the fair traditions.

We recently discovered that Henry had testicular cancer (yes, it can occur in rabbits though it’s rare). We could tell he was in pain, so Carolina, with our help, made the decision that it was time to send Henry over that Rainbow Bridge. We gave her some time alone to cuddle and pet her beloved pet; she has had him most of her 13 years and they had become best friends. I don’t know who bawled more, me or her. Growing up in a farm family, I know animals sometimes have to be let go; that doesn’t make it easier. Now Carolina had to learn that lesson too.

Henry now rests beside Star Hawk/Stardust in a shaded corner of our yard. I hope they are bouncing through dandelions, eating all they want on the other side of that Rainbow Bridge.