We heard about Choca Paws just before Thanksgiving of 1990. At the time we had Midnight, a very sweet black lop who had been with us since October 1984. Someone at work asked George if he wanted another black lop. We said, "No, only one rabbit." The following week Midnight was dead -- a mass in the stomach, probably cancer. After a week of mourning I had George ask if the black lop still needed a home.
Choca Paws looked almost exactly like Midnight, but had a totally different personality. Midnight was sweet and sedate. Choca Paws was "bouncy". He would round and round in his cage. Of course we adopted him!
Midnight had been totally an outdoor rabbit and had been VERY difficult to handle. I was determined with Choca Paws that he WOULD get used to being handled. So, faithfully, twice a day I would pick him up and hold him for a few minutes. I held him against my chest -- he chewed on the shoulder of whatever I was wearing. I have a sweater, a winter coat (vintage 1965 or so), and several sweatshirts that are shoulderless!
Choca Paws would spend warm days in Midnight's house on the patio. Cold days and nights were spent in his cage in the garage. George's dad built him a wooden "house" he could crawl into. It sat in the middle of his cage and he would run in circles around it. Then, suddenly, he would hop on top of it!
When spring came I started taking Choca Paws out on a leash to play in the yard. This was my first experience with a bunny on a leash. I quickly learned that bunnies spend a LOT of time sitting in one spot -- then suddenly "take off" for another spot. I started taking a towel outside to sit on when he decided to "park". We spent our first spring, summer, and fall with him playing in the grass and me getting eaten by chiggers.
On hot summer days (and nights), Choca Paws lived in a third cage in the back part of the yard where it was real shady. On really hot days I would freeze huge bowls of water and give him ice to cuddle up to. Sometimes my mom would come over in the middle of the day to give him fresh ice.
When winter returned, he moved back to the garage. We didn't spend as much time together in the winter, but I did go out to the garage and hold him for a few minutes at least twice a day. And any time there was a somewhat warm day (say in the 50's), I would bundle up and take him out to play.
The next spring I decided I was too old for sitting on the ground while Choca Paws played. So I sat out in a lawn chair with him on the leash. I would read or write letters while he played. He would run in circles around my chair. Then one day with no warning, PLOP, he jumped into my lap! I was SO surprised. After that, "lopping" into my lap became a regular part of our time outside together. We had an understanding that when he hopped into my lap he would receive my "undivided attention" for as long as he chose to stay there. When he hopped back down, I would go back to reading or writing letters.
During the next year I spent more and more time with Choca Paws. I was miserable in my job with a company listed as one of the top 100 companies to work for. After 5 years of working for a terrible boss, I FINALLY gotten a decent one. So of course, they decided he really wasn't "management material". I then had 3 more horrible bosses in a two year period. Finally I ended up with someone who was a pathological liar and emotionally abusive (unfortunately, he REALLY knew how to push my buttons). I would come home from work every day -- often in tears -- put Choca Paws on his leash, and sit outside with him (George, too, most days) until it got dark. I know in my heart that Choca Paws was a large part of why I didn't have a nervous breakdown during those years.
In December of 1992 I decided to confront my boss. I finally ended up going to personnel to get away from him. I ended up with another GOOD manager who appreciated me, supported me, and even got me the promotion my previous boss had promised, then decided not to give me. But it was still too little too late. In the spring of 1993 the company decided to to start laying people off. The severance package was one month's pay for each year you had been with the company -- and I had been there 12 12 years. With George's support -- and against my mother's better judgement -- I told my boss I wanted out. It was September before layoffs happened in our department. I started watching the ads and sent out resumes. At the time I was laid off I did NOT have another job and had NO IDEA what I was going to do. All I knew was that it "felt right". Choca Paws helped me find the strength to take that "leap of faith" and follow my heart.
Within 3 weeks I was consulting part-time for a WONDERFUL small company where I still work today. It was such a healthy, healing environment to move into. I had been there 6 months when my husband called about Smokey. Once again I followed my heart, knowing my mother would not approve of a second bunny. But I was 4 months away from turning 40 -- time to grow up and make my own decisions.
Choca Paws was the most unselfish bunny I have ever known. When Smokey came, I had intended to find him another home. But when I saw his teeth I knew he was here to stay. I asked Choca Paws if he minded and he said no. I tried very hard not to "take away" time from Choca Paws. That first spring/summer/fall with the two of them, George would have Smokey on a blue leash and I would have Choca Paws on another. We would sit far enough apart that the bunnies weren't "together" -- they were both unneutered males. A wild bunny from the woods behind us would often come out and sit between us. When it was time to go inside, I would put Choca Paws in his cage and let Smokey run around the yard with me for a few minutes. If it was too hot for George to sit outside, I would divide my time between the two bunnies. It was a great summer. I learned to be content with what I had. I felt I needed nothing other than the time to enjoy the things I had -- especially my family. There was no place I wanted to be more than in my own back yard.
As winter approached, Robin suggested that I purchase a "Play Yard" to set up in the garage for Smokey and Choca Paws to take turns playing in when we couldn't go outside. The first time I set it up, both cars were in the garage so I moved my car outside. I put Smokey in to play first since he had a slightly smaller cage. Smokey seemed to enjoy exploring his new surroundings. After a while I put him back in his cage and put Choca Paws in the play yard. I decided to try making tunnels for them out of the box the play yard came in, so I went inside to get scissors. When I came back two minutes later with the scissors, there was Choca Paws -- sitting right next to George's car! So much for the play yard keeping him confined! I started referring to him as my little Houdini bun -- and created a makeshift "top" for the play yard.
When Smokey developed a severe ear infection in February of 1995, he gradually became a house rabbit. I felt bad for Choca Paws -- after all he was here first. He seemed to tell me it was OK -- he knew he was loved and that Smokey needed to be inside with us.
In 1995 Choca Paws was back to having my undivided attention outside. Since Smokey was inside, I felt like I should spend as much time as possible outside with Choca Paws. I spent evenings until dark, most of the weekend, and many of my days off just sitting outside with him reading and writing letters. George would often sit outside with us too.
One day in June of 1996 I noticed that Choca Paws eyes were opalescent -- almost overnight he had developed cataracts. We consulted with several veterinarians. We considered surgery. I felt that was not what Choca Paws wanted. There was no one locally to do it and no one we could find who had actually done cataract surgery on a rabbit. Finally, I asked the t veterinary ophthamologist if he recommended it. His answer was that he felt cataract surgery for animals was done more for the owner than for the animal. I wanted to do what Choca Paws wanted -- so we decided against surgery.
It seemed that overnight Choca Paws had become and "old" rabbit. We did blood work and checked for diabetes. Meanwhile, I continued to take him out to "play". Of course, he could no longer see to jump in my lap. Mostly, he just sat, looking sad.
During summer and early fall I began having very strong feelings that Choca Paws and Smokey would die at almost the same time. And I began to fear that it would be soon. Which is why when the shelter in Gardner, Kansas called about a black and white lop, I adopted Mr. McGregor (named by George because he was a rabbit from Gardner). I put Mr. McGregor in my bathroom to get to know him. After a few days I realized that MAYBE George could tolerate another house rabbit. Slowly, I began letting Choca Paws spend time in the bathroom. Within a month it had become his room. It was perfect for a little blind bunny because he could learn where things were -- and you don't move much around in a bathroom.
By this time Smokey was used to spending evenings in the living room with us. We would let Choca Paws out in the morning while we were getting ready for work. There was a teddy bear on the floor in our bedroom that he would often come in and "groom". Usually he would explore every room thoroughly before returning to his room. Sometimes he would "misjudge" distances and run into a wall or piece of furniture. It always made us sad to see him do that -- but it never seemed to bother him!
Choca Paws LOVED to play with his "sex ball" -- a stuffed ball with a bell inside. Often when I would go into the bathroom he would start "playing with" his ball -- often nearly rolling over on top of it. It was SO funny to watch. Then he would pick it up in his mouth and walk around the bathroom with it.
When Smokey became sick, Choca Paws didn't get as much attention from me. But any time I took time to get down on the floor and really pet him, he gave me kisses. Not long after Smokey became ill, George began getting down on the floor with Choca Paws almost every morning and loving him. George, too, got bunny kisses.
The day Smokey died, I noticed Choca Paws' ball was missing. I couldn't find it ANYWHERE. I figured, oh well, it will turn up and gave him another one. A few days later I saw him start to carry THAT ball into the study. So I looked more carefully in there. Sure enough -- the old ball was in the far corner of the room, behind a chair. Silly bunny!
After Smokey died, I SO missed having a bunny with me in the living room. We started letting Choca Paws out after dinner. Mostly he would go to the bedroom -- where he was used to getting loved. Of course we continued to give him love there. But in addition, whenever he came out to the living room I would immediately get down on the floor to pet him for as long as he would stay there. I had hoped he would learn to come out and sit with us as Smokey had done. Sadly, there wasn't time.
One night about a week after Smokey died Choca Paws had been out in the living room with us. After he left, I suddenly heard tappita-tappita- tappita, tappita-tappita-tappita -- coming from the kitchen. I looked at George and he said, "Yes, the Paws is in the kitchen." I kept hearing non-stop tappita-tappita-tappita. Finally I went in to see what he was doing. He was hopping back and forth across the width of the kitchen. I said, "Paws, what ARE you doing?" Suddenly I realized -- perhaps he told me -- that he was going back and forth, "learning" this new room!
Right after we did the blood work showing liver problems -- and started Choca Paws on oral medication for it, which he HATED -- Choca Paws stopped coming out to the living room. That was Memorial Day weekend. I had no idea the end was so near. I thought he was just mad at me about the medicine. He still came into the bedroom. Several mornings George and I got down on the floor together and spent time loving him. He was still eating, drinking, pooping, and peeing like normal.
Last Friday (June 5) I took him in for xrays. The liver was slightly enlarged. We saw the spondylosis of the spine. When he didn't eat as well Friday night I thought it was stress from the vet trip or possibly pain. I tried aspirin. His appetite was "off", but not THAT bad Saturday and Sunday. Sunday night he did not eat. Monday morning I syringe fed a little pumpkin and took him to a second vet after work. I started fluids and syringe feeding.
Tuesday morning when he couldn't swallow the gruel, I knew it was the end. I spent about 2 hours on the bathroom floor petting him until we could leave for Dr. Bradley's office. From the time he started having trouble breathing until we left, one of us stayed with him. When we took him to the vet, I knew in my heart he would never come home. But I am so thankful to Dr. Bradley for TRYING and then for thinking to do the xrays, which confirmed medically what my heart was telling me. I will always be grateful to her for taking him home with her and giving him such good care his last night on earth.
The sky cried yesterday as we drove to the vet to help Choca Paws on his journey to join Smokey at the Bridge. Dr. Bradley was working us in, so we had to wait. They put us in a room and brought Choca Paws in. We had about 20 minutes together to say goodbye. There was no question that we were doing the right thing -- he was so weak and struggling so to breathe. It broke our hearts.
Choca Paws left this earth every bit as peacefully as Smokey did. After he was gone, Dr. Bradley told us a little about his last night. She put him in her spare bedroom, with sheets on the floor to protect her carpet. Her guinea pig was in a cage on the dresser in the room. She said the guinea pig talked and talked to Choca Paws -- something he normally does only when it is time to eat. When I talked to Robin later that evening, she told me that another HRS fosterer here (who has since moved away) had once used guinea pigs to calm some extremely stressed rescue bunnies. He had the best medical care possible AND company that night. I could not have asked for more.
I have not yet talked to Dr. Bradley about the autopsy results. However, Robin told me a little. He had a HORRIBLE abcess in the sinuses. There was no way (other than the xrays) to have known it was there. It is doubtful that anything could have been done about it. Even if it had been caught sooner, it is doubtful antibiotics would have cured it. And knowing Choca Paws and how much he hated medicine, my heart says he might have died SOONER had we know and tried to treat him. I had told Robin last night that I felt Choca Paws had "hung in there" FOR ME while Smokey was sick -- and hung on a little while after, so I could heal from that loss. Tonight Robin told me Dr. Bradley was amazed that he had lived at all with such a bad infection. Robin was sure that what I believed was true -- he hung on as long as he could, FOR ME.
Choca Paws, I hope you can hear my thoughts as I write this. You did SO MUCH MORE FOR ME than I ever did for you. I will always remember you. Running in circles in your cage. Running round and round the lawn chair and "lopping" into my lap. Playing with your ball. Chinning my feet when I used your room. Grooming your teddy bear in our bedroom. Getting loved by your daddy on the bedroom floor. Giving me bunny kisses. "Learning" the kitchen. I hope you know how much you were loved -- and how much you are missed. Thank you for giving me strength -- and for being so strong for me at the end. Daddy and I will see you and Smokey and Midnight again some day. Until then, know that you will always be a part of us.