Remembering Hans

First off, thank you to everyone who left comments in my last post. Your kind, supportive words offered comfort at a very sad time. I had no idea Hans was so well loved by people all around the world until your comments came pouring in.

And today, today I was touched beyond words when I found out that my bunny-blogger friends (and even some cat-bloggers, too) are honoring the memory of Hans with ‘Furry Butts Fursday’ posts, filled with furrybutt-shots of their bunnies and cats. You’re such amazing people for planning this. It was a wonderful surprise and it means a lot to me. Hans must be beaming with pride at the Bridge. Thanks for being there and for cheering us up!

Hans is the first pet we’ve lost and that made it all the more difficult. I’ve been trying to understand what happened to make him leave so suddenly. He was being treated with bicillin (a combination of procaine penicillin and benzathine penicillin) for his abscess. The use of bicillin in rabbits is explained in detail in this article.

I started corresponding with the author of the article around the time Hans began treatment. When Hans left, I was wracked with guilt thinking that  it had something to do with how I gave the injection. I was afraid that I had injected the drug into an artery. However, the author assured me that it wasn’t possible to hit an artery when giving subcutaneous injections as there are only tiny capillaries supplying blood to the skin. An allergic reaction to the drug was also unlikely as it would result in a more violent reaction and would take a little more time to occur. Everything happened very quickly with Hans, it was over in just a minute or so after the injection and it wasn’t at all violent.

I also discussed this in the Rabbits Online Forum, where some of the members suggested that maybe there was something else going on inside of Hans which I couldn’t detect. I know I’ll never be able to tell exactly why Hans left so unexpectedly. I’m going to stop asking questions and from now on, I’m just going cherish the memories he left behind.

Sorting through old photos, I found these:

Even as a baby, Hans had a distinctive style of his own. He liked to lie with his hands stretched out and apart, looking like he owned the world. I don’t know about the world, but he sure owned our hearts.

Hans had a funny way of loafing too, with his hind legs pushed way to the front and sticking out at the sides of his chest:

He may have been a tiny bun, but Hans had the appetite of a giant:

He was always munching away, more so than any other bun in the apartment. He loved his Oxbow BBT pellets and he loved loved loved his alfalfa hay:

Hans had just recently mastered the art of begging for treats. He’d stand up on his hind legs each time I went near him and he’d follow me around, sniffing the air excitedly and bouncing everywhere. It was impossible to say no to him. His excitement was highly contagious and always made me laugh. In the end, I’d get suckered into giving him some oats. Every time.

Hans liked exploring our room:

His favourite spot in the room was inside his tunnel:

My favourite part was listening to his little feet scampering around in the middle of the night, knowing that he was having a good time binkying away.

Occasionally, Hans would get into a pensive mood:

One wonders what a bunny has to be pensive about..

.. but Hans would never reveal the deep thoughts which only bunnies are capable of thinking:

He was also an ever willing model for furrybutt-shots:

Above all else, I’ll always remember him as the sweetest, most loving bunny. Hans enjoyed human contact, he  loved getting his ears rubbed and his jaw scratched:

He’d keep still for as long as we kept petting him, teeth grinding softly a mile a minute, enjoying us fussing over him. I used to pet him until he fell asleep. I could tell that he was asleep because his pupils would contract significantly and his little nose stops twitching.

This is the very last photo I took of Hans:

I miss that face every single day…

P’s tribute to Hans:

Binky free, little guy. You were a special one and I’m glad to have shared life with you, even if it was for just a very short while.