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The Rabbit Funeral

This morning we had a funeral.

A rabbit funeral.

Emily cried. A lot. Daniel asked - in a manly way, with tears in his eyes - to be allowed to dig the grave. As though he had to be DOING something. Every time Emily would let out a fresh sob, Daniel would pause in his digging and look up at her and start crying too. We said some words of gratitude for a sweet rabbit. Daniel filled in the hole. And then, since both my children were so sad and crying so much, eventually they got me crying too and I kept tearing up over the idea of their grief.

It was quite a morning. It kind of broke my heart. I don’t think I was so affected by Bullet’s death as much as my children’s response to it.

Today was the first day of the book fair, of which I’m in charge, and I had to be in school early. We had to eat breakfast and get dressed and get book bags together. Fortunately we were all up half an hour earlier than usual.

Never have I been so glad that we all woke up early. Maybe God knew we needed time to hold a rabbit funeral this morning.

Emily really wanted to stay home, but I thought it best that she go to school. I thought it would be good for her to have the chance to share her feelings with her friends, and not wallow in them alone all day. When she came home, she said that it was good to be with her friends, but that in language arts there was a sentence about a “speeding bullet,” and that they were also talking about homophones, and the one she had to answer was the homophone for “dyed.” What are the odds? Daniel said that he kept seeing rabbits all day, on his papers and in pictures, that weren’t really there.

Emily’s writing assignment for the day was to write about an obstacle she had to overcome, and of course her mind was full of Bullet. This is what she wrote:

Emily (with only one rabbit) :(

It all happened when I woke up that morning, and I got changed into pants and short sleeves. I rushed out the door to go see what my rabbits needed to eat. As always, I checked on Bullet first. I noticed that something was wrong. Bullet and Coconut only lay down at night. Bullet was laying down. I looked at her closely and noticed she wasn’t breathing and her eyes were wide open. I burst like a balloon out of the garage and into the house, crying the whole way there and I somehow managed to choke out through my tears, “Bullet’s dead!” My Mom and my brother, Daniel, ran out the door and looked at Bullet. I stayed inside. I just couldn’t bear watching my mom look at my sweet bunny’s dead body. I was frantic. I kept thinking, “My sweety is dead, gone forever!” I was screaming so loud I bet my friend Jordan, who lives a block away, could hear me. When my mom got back I said (well, I actually screamed) “I’m NOT going to school today!!!!!!!!” My Mom said calmly, “It will be better to get into your normal routine as soon as possible.” We had a small funeral for her and I reluctantly went to school. That is my obstacle I had to overcome.
(I’m still working on it though.) :(

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Bullet was a sweet rabbit, who had been tormented by her sister into having PTSD so that she’d jump and try to bite you if she heard a noise or you moved suddenly. But she was lovable and sweet under her fear issues, and will be missed.
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