my Radar -- who died today, aged 7

My sweet, beautiful Radar has died. I miss him so much and the most terrible part of my sadness is the great self-reproach I feel, the conviction that I didn’t spend as much time with him as I should I have, didn’t show him how much I love him. I don’t think I even realised how much I loved him till now, but isn’t that how it is…

I had adopted Radar as a companion to Bonnie, my other bunny, and wonderfully, they bonded right away and were never apart from the moment they met. They did everything together… playing, eating, grooming, sleeping… both of them resting close against each other on a lazy afternoon was a perfect picture of domestic bliss. In fact they were always close against each other... And so, I felt myself somehow relieved of having to do as much cuddling as I used to. Sitting with his lifeless body this morning, I wished I could stroke his back again, so that he’d stretch out flat for the full enjoyment of it, and rub between his ears the way he liked, but of course it was too late.

Thankfully, I have the blessed assurance that Radar is not completely gone; I sense his joyful, friendly spirit around me, relaxed and easygoing as always, but o! I miss him so! Take from my grief now the lesson that we all know in our hearts, but so often neglect in our busy everyday lives – show, show, show your loved ones how much you love them while you can, that you will not know the pain and despair of remorse and self-reproach, but will be comforted by the knowledge that you made their lives as happy and fulfilled as could be.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave bereft
I am not there. I have not left.

Mary Elizabeth Frye