Whenever I bury any of my pet, I actually bury a part of myself. Seriously it doesn’t matter how long a pet lives with you; a pet invariably manages to make his/her place in your heart. There have been pets in my house even before I was born. It would be incorrect to say they are like my family…actually they are family & to be honest, they are more important to me than my real family.
Lately I lost 3 kittens (Jimmy, Carla & Alisha), 1 adult cat (Zizu) & 1 bunny (Ms Pepper). I react quite badly when my pets die. I know I bother my best people. My friends, my kid sister & mom are the ones who suffer terribly, cause I just go on talking forever. I have been bothered even if it’s natural death. I’m bothered even when I give it my best shot. And yes this time when Pepper died, I just couldn’t take it. Someone actually fucking murdered my bunny.
Although 12 years ago, one of our damn chauffeur ran over my cat Chotu & this particular incident again reminded me of that ugly accident, which happened right in front of me long time ago. I don’t think time heals. Whenever I look back, it hurts as bad as it hurt on that day. You relive & you are tortured.
I’ve had rabbits all my life, but Ms Pepper was special, cause she was the only one I ever became friends with. She had this way of communicating that you just couldn’t ignore. All my bunnies were mostly white; she was the only one who was white & black.
Those who have pets know that when a sibling/partner/friend dies, the other one plunges into depression & usually dies. Mr. Salt too had been very down, but then my brother got him another companion. He became friends with her in a minute. He was so very elated to meet her. You know it was saddening when he was licking Pepper’s dead body in the hope that she might wake up. I’m glad that at least he’s not suffering anymore. Z has named the new bunny Ms Hope.
