Iggy Pop: Aug 2003 – Sept 2008
Our pet rabbit Iggy Pop died yesterday. He was five years old.
In June, a visit to the veterinarian for some unusual behaviour uncovered the sad existence of ten tablespoons of excess calcium, a.k.a. sludge, in poor Iggy Pop’s bladder. When we requested the surgery we had hoped that it would solve the problem; unfortunately it only delayed the inevitable. We took Iggy back to the vet’s office yesterday because we had noticed the mildest symptoms similar to last time and, through x-ray, our fears were confirmed. Sludge more dense than his bone had again built up in his bladder. Surgery was not an option this time, and with no intervention his bladder would explode in a day or two. We chose to prolong our suffering in order to shorten his. We held and pet him as the doctor sedated him and then administered a drug to stop his heart. I held Iggy’s ear in place so that the doctor could find a vein. It was over very quickly.
Iggs was a great rabbit. He was loving and cuddly, mischievous and moody, curious and damn frustrating. When let into a room he would immediately scout the perimeter, find the best corner, and pee. If you sat on the floor he would come up to you and squat down, head flat on the floor, so that you could pet him. While our other rabbit, Gabe, hated him, Iggy would try again and again to win her affections. He wasn’t the brightest bunny in the box (we lovingly referred to him as our “special needs rabbit,” but he was so affectionate and sweet. When we had to pick him up and hold him to clip his nails or wash his bum he would struggle for a moment and then resign himself to us, let us do whatever we had in mind (unlike Gabe, who will fight to the point of injuring herself). He trusted us, and because he trusted us and his life was in our hands, we had to make the best decisions for him that we could. That is why we had him operated on the first time, changed his whole diet around to make a second time more unlikely, and then chose to have him euthanized yesterday.
The last, borrowed, three months of his life were good ones for him. He got to run around in the yard, even escaped to a neighbours yard on several occasions. He got a lot of love and was as happy as a bunny can be.
We love and miss our dear Iggy Pop.