ode to joj.Wednesday, January 22, 2014
In October I brought him to the vet because he was having some issues going to the bathroom. Seeing as he was acting 1001% normal otherwise, I didn't think much of it. In a perfect world he would have been fine--the explanation being that he'd gotten into the cat food more than I'd noticed. Unfortunately, we learned the worst: he had a cancerous tumor in his abdomen that was taking up, at the time, almost one entire side of his body (thus making it impossible to operate or really do anything). Both the vet and I were stunned: Joj was jumping around the office as if nothing in the world was wrong. And he acted exactly that way until a few days ago.
|A lucky shot caught mid ear-shake|
I noticed that Mister Joj not only stopped drinking water but was hunched over a lot. I hung out with him the other evening and, after a few minutes, noticed that his jaw was moving as if his teeth were chattering (which I found out online meant that he was in pain, something that bunnies instinctively try to hide). I don't think I've ever seen him so immobile or uninterested in what was going on around him. It worried me a lot; it really wasn't like his usual curious self at all.
|Post-bath looking like a Koosh ball|
The vet didn't have a long term solution to offer, just a lot of prolonged suffering on Jojo's end-- and ones that wouldn't even last a significant amount of time. I'd watched my pet Moosh disintegrate over the course of a few months last year with medical treatments that were supposed to help him live longer and regretted that we didn't set him free from his pain and suffering sooner. I definitely didn't want Jojo to suffer at all, especially like that.
Frank and I stayed by him, as his bunny parents, til the end and said goodbye for the last time on Monday around 3:45pm. I have never been more heartbroken. He was the first ever pet that I brought home, that was mine.
Despite knowing that it was the right thing to do for him, my heart is still terribly broken-- he was my buddy and roommate for the past 5 and a half years. I used to love coming home, walking into my bedroom and screaming, "Joj!" or the spliced "Helloj!" and watching his ears perk up. Or watch him go crazy over bananas and apple skins. Or see him lounging about around the house-- sometimes in places he knew he shouldn't be-- making messes and eating things he probably knew he shouldn't have.
|My usual view of him|
|In his humble hang out/part time abode|
|Mister J & I in January 2012|