Arthur Littlefoot
I wrote this after the death of our bunny Arthur, just 6 months after we brought him home. Turns out he had megacolon, an incureable genetic condition. After repeated, back-to-back bouts of gut stasis, he was refusing all feeding and I just knew it was time. His death was very peaceful, at the vets surrounded by candles, with Missy and I at his side. Once again, poetry helped me to organise my conflicting feelings- so soon after Doc’s death. Sleep well, little bun.
