Bunny: My Little Soul
It was an amazing summer – the summer of Bunny. I still remember the day like it was yesterday. She was this tiny gray chick, one of a bunch my brother sent over from his hatchery. Even then, she stood out. The other chicks were loud and all over the place, but Bunny was quiet, careful, always watching. She was smart, taking everything in with her eyes; she just seemed different. She went from being just another chick to being Bunny, totally unique.
Bunny grabbed your attention right away – not by being loud or crazy, but with her calm way and a hint of shyness. She was sweet, curious, fun, and loving, while still being independent. She explored the coop slowly, checking out every little shadow, hopping over feathers, and chasing bits of straw. She had this inner strength, but she wasn't stuck up or timid. She had a spark that made the coop – and my life – so much warmer.
I could just feel how much she trusted me. Bunny would step onto my hand, snuggle into my palm, and chill there, chirping softly like she was telling me secrets. She'd also follow me around the coop, staying close but still doing her own thing. Sometimes, she'd nuzzle my shoulder, half-asleep, totally relaxed. I felt like she was my shadow, walking with me quietly and understanding me like no one else.
As she got older, Bunny's personality got even stronger – she became more sure of herself, playful, and talkative. She had her own way of doing things – napping in her favorite spots, pecking at food at her own speed, and chirping like she was trying to talk. I saw bits of myself in her: the curiosity, the caution, and those moments when she was a bit daring. Bunny wasn't just a pet; she showed me things about myself I hadn't noticed before.
The Fear I Carried
Even back then, when I knew I couldn't imagine my life without Bunny, I was scared. Every time she went a little further away from me, my heart would sink. Each moment she wasn't near me made my heart race and my chest tight. I'd cry quietly when she ignored me or didn't want me to comfort her. She didn't wander off much, but I'd still wonder: did she stop caring about me? Was I going to lose her? Looking back, she wasn't pushing me away; she was just doing her own thing, being curious and living her life. But at the time, every hop away felt like a piece of my heart breaking; every minute she wasn't with me made me feel sick inside.
I just loved her so much. So much that the thought of losing her terrified me. It ruined every good moment we had. Even when she was on my shoulder or in my hand, I was always thinking about the day she wouldn't come back. My love for her made me want to keep her forever – something I wanted so badly, but also dreaded.
The Weight of Her Absence
And then she died. Bunny, my little gray soul, my friend, my everything – gone. She was only 22 weeks old, just becoming herself, and it hit me harder than anything ever could. Losing her was awful, and it took over everything. My chest hurts, my stomach clenches, and my head is full of memories that won't let me be. I reach for her in the coop, calling her name into the silence, talking like I know she won't answer.
I'm drowning in sadness. Every sound, every shadow, every move reminds me she's gone. I keep seeing her tilting her little head, her soft gray feathers shining in the sun, her curled up in my palm. Every memory hurts because I know she's not coming back.
There will be days when I can't eat, sleep, or do anything. I used to love chicken, but now I can't even look at it. Just the sight, the thought, or even the smell makes me sad and guilty. Bunny was more than just an animal; she was my little soul, my companion, she showed me who I was, and she made me happy. Now she's gone, and I feel empty.
An Unsilenced Cry
I reach out, whispering her name, hoping she can hear me somehow. The fear I had when Bunny was alive has now turned into a huge grief that swallows me up. I'm lost in sadness, missing a little gray soul who trusted me and gave me more love than I knew I could handle.
Even now, she's changed me. Because of her, I notice the little things in the world. I stop and see the warmth, the life, and the movement. Every pang of sadness is proof that she existed, that she mattered, and that I loved her so much it hurts. Her life was short, but she had it all – curiosity, fun, love, trust, and affection. That light she had will stay with me forever.
She might be gone, but I carry her with me everywhere. In every quiet moment, in every soft shadow in the coop, in the ache in my heart, and in the longing to hold her again, she's there. Our little gray soul – my heart outside my body, my loving friend, my proof that even the smallest life can leave the biggest marks.
Sometimes, when the sadness is too much to bear, I whisper her name and hope she can hear me because, honestly, I'm lost without her. I hurt, I bleed, and I cry, wishing I could just hold her one last time before the silence takes over.
So sorry for you this story was very touching never had that close a bond with an animal b4.
