M died today, suddenly following a bout of gastro-intestinal stasis (GI stasis). The onset was shockingly quick. It is all surreal. Part of the reason I am blogging this is to pay tribute to a small dearly-loved friend who was a daily companion with whom I spent more time than any other living thing in the past few years. She was a present from my dear S, who has now come home early from a visit to his mum. M was his first pet and she loved him and he did her.
To have a 'wild' animal sitting by you on a sofa, giving you kisses, snuggling, sitting on your feet as you work (how will I work without her with me? She saved me from loneliness many a time...), resting her paw on your hand (as she did for the first time on her last night with me) is an amazing experience borne of trust. She was clever, bright, fun, sweet, gentle, absolutely beautiful, literally softer than silk, loyal and a blessed spirit-fairy-like lapin. I loved her immensely. We both did.
The other reason for me to blog is this: if anyone is Googling GI stasis or anything along the lines of a rabbit not eating or passing waste matter, take my advice and see a vet immediately. I did as soon as it was apparent that M was unwell (she missed an evening meal and I thought she might have some in the night but she had gone into shock by morning)... her decline was extremely quick, as is the way with rabbits.
I really cannot believe it... she was bouncing around at Christmas and lying next to me on the Saturday evening. I took her to hospital Sunday morning after noting she had not touched her evening food. She died at 9.45am today.
I am suspended somewhere else in the land of 'It's a lie'. She was just three-and-a-half and had otherwise been healthy and active.
I will miss her beyond words.
Agh, I have yet another cold. It has robbed me of sleep this week and given me a sore nose, chesty cough and too much phlegm for my liking. The virus (above) is amazing looking though, don't you think?
I toyed with the idea of going to kung fu earlier this week but wisely refrained and took to my bed with painkillers washed down with a mug of hot water that had manuka honey and whiskey dissolved in it. It seemed to knock me out. But still, as is the curse of the self-employed, I have had to work... Thank God I am at home and can sniffle about with no make-up on and get out of bed a bit later than I usually do. I am also wrapped up in several badly coordinating tops and a pair of jeans. M, the rabbit, just looks at me, cute as hell, eyes as limpidly affectionate as ever.
S told me I look lovely yesterday evening, though I knew this was far from the truth. Bless him. I was pale and the skin around my eyes is dry and uncomfortable. We ordered a delicious curry this evening. I don't have much appetite or energy but a curry always goes down well and I'm certain it helps to destroy the cold virus. Worth a try, anyway.
I went to Homebase to buy some glue, a new vase to replace the one the wind blew over and shattered this morning, and a paint roller.
The vase and roller (plus some plain white plates that hadn't been on my list) were easy to find but I couldn't locate the glue. There didn't seem to be a glue section, nor was there a big 'ADHESIVES' banner hanging above any aisles.
So, I asked a Homebase man where the Superglue was and he literally looked me up and down as though I was insane. He frowned: "Hmm, are you over 18?"
I am 39.
Thirty-nine!! Hahahahaha.
I laughed, how I laughed. The man, perhaps taken aback by my manic cackling, took me to the glue area and left me there, still looking at me somewhat askance, probably imagining me later with my hoodies and dem, swigging cheap booze and, erm, copping a load of Superglue fumes. There was a fat man standing in front of most of the glue display. Squinting, I read from a distance to see which of the many types of glue I could use, reached in front of his massive belly and plucked a packet from the display. He continued to stand, motionless, mesmerised by the yellow tubes of Araldite, apparently.
I've been asked for ID in the past two months when buying wine but at least there you have to look 21. I cannot believe this man thought I was 17. It could be flattering, I guess, but I don't want to look younger than 18, thanks very much!
Anyway, the vase is in place, the glue was used to stick down M's pawprint motif on her bed (she had pulled it up and eaten a bit of it), and I just can't be bothered to paint today, so am listening to rock music while online shopping and intermittently cleaning the place.
I'll try to buy some wine later and see if the youth fairy's spell is still working.----------------Listening to: Echo & The Bunnymen - The Killing Moon
Happy August, all! White rabbits! (Meant to bring luck, I believe, if it is the first thing you say in the month, goodness knows why...)
And here is my sweet black rabbit, M, just to confuse matters. She has milk chocolate patches all over her lower body, which you can see when the sun shines on her:
- The hairy arms of the person next to me on the tube tickling my bare ones. Yuk. Stay in your own space! Gaaaah!
- Chuggers. Just chuggers. Who are these people who stop for them? It's good in summer as you can wear sunglasses and zone them out completely. They rely on eye contact (and stepping out in front of you).
- Estate agents asking for your requirements for the 100th time. It is not a good sales technique.
- PR people lying. Hmm. Yes.
- Being casually offered a full-time job that I casually refused (politely). Flattering, though.
- Feeling my chest tighten for the third day running. It's extremely humid at the moment – perhaps this was the cause. I thought I would collapse with the heat on the Tube home, though. Luckily, I unearthed an old asthma inhaler with the date '2006' on it. I am seeing the doctor on Monday.
- S texting me four times – and them arriving at once despite being written across the span over an hour. He said eating alone was a lonely experience – he's in Edinburgh, hundreds of miles away. He sounded so forlorn. I know S will come back with many tales of japes from the Festival. I recall being in The Witchery when I was 31, looking up at the tarot cards etched into the ceiling, a boulder in my belly as I pretended to enjoy the delicious food. I felt so lost as I drank the deep, dark wine. But the cards above my head were full of promise.
- Spending a pleasant evening with some members of my kung fu club in the pub – they are a really nice bunch of people. I like that they are so different but that we have our martial art in common. I'd like to learn the stories of some of them; I think we all have reasons for doing a martial art.
- M, the rabbit has stuck close by. She hasn't had much company today. I gave her extra leaves and broccoli to compensate a little.
My beautiful rabbit, M, doesn't like being picked up. Her instinct is to struggle madly, so if she needs to be carried, it's wise to wear long sleeves and be firm (but not too firm – she needs to feel secure, not scared). In the wild, rabbits are only ever picked up by swooping birds of prey or foxes and things.
It's my problem that she looks permanently in need of being picked up and hugged close. It's her brown eyes set into the smoothest, softest, velvety fur. They shine: a little feary, a little teary, and often, full of affection. She wouldn't thank me for holding her to me, so instead I just watch her as she watches me, until work takes over again. She must think I am crazy, tapping into the white plastic thing for hours, my eyes fixed on the box that has patterns and lights on it for what must seem an age to her...
PS: I am currently working at home. I don't drag M across London to an office...
• A group of what looked like South American Indians performing near the shops I visited today. I usually walk past but, as I have time on my hands this week, I slowed my pace. It was very sweet and relaxing, this music. It made me feel sad, and I am not sure why.
• A smart old lady pushing a trolley of Stella and other stuff through the car park in Sainsbury's. I wondered how she would cope with unloading the trolley. Either she was much tougher than she looked or was in fact aged only 50 and a hardened boozer.
• An email inbox devoid of work emails. This is rare. (There were some from worky people but they were group emails and were fairly banal in content.)
• Cards for 40 year olds. The friend I have recently reconnected with is having a party to mark her big day on Saturday and S and I are going. I looked around several shops to find a suitable card. It wasn't easy. Most cards for women were either tasteful and rather too sedate or completely ridiculously 'up yours' at being 40. So I got a card that didn't make any reference to age, which, I firmly believe (being 38) doesn't matter a flying fig anyway.
• A man lying in the road having been knocked off his motorbike. His helmet was in bits. He seemed to be talking to the police and paramedics. I hope he is OK, and I hope the car driver is OK, too. All too often, motorbikes zoom out at mad speed (but I don't know if this was the case, and shall reserve judgment). I turned my music down as it seemed disrespectful to drive by as though I was having a party.
• My rabbit, M, is so excited when I get home these days that she races around the flat and binkies (twisty jumps while running). She is extremely cool and very affectionate.
• I saw – and bought – some scallops in Sainsbury's. S cooks these to perfection and I am having to stop myself from raiding the cupboard for the tortilla crisps I bought to preserve my appetite.
• The sunshine – at 5am. Sunrise is very early these days, eh? My eye mask had slipped off and, apart from feeling tired, I was convinced it was 7.30am. (I still get up early-ish these days as per my sleep programme rules, holiday or not.)
M has a breakfast of hay, crunchy veg (dried) and crunchy veg (fresh). She loves her food. Her small black head bobs delicately as she chews her feed. I swear I can see happiness in her chocolate brown eyes.
She likes to eat, then sit in her small, soft bed, grooming her dark, velvety fur. Then, if the sun is shining, she stretches out and dozes. She tends to do this in front of the drawer in which I keep my hayfever tablets and vitamins. That's what she is doing now.
I've got the window open, it is June. I have hayfever.
M's eyes are half-closed. I can't move her. Well, I could, but I can't...
My eyes itch.
My rabbit, M, is lying on the floor. She's stretching with her legs elongated behind her. Her brown eyes are closed. The sun is shining on her back. A happy bunny.
M has become very friendly of late. She comes when called, sits by me and S on the sofa and puts her head next to the nearest leg, hoping to be stroked. It's very sweet.
This morning I dreamed that my mum told me that I am adopted. In this sleep-state, I was shocked, troubled, looking for S so that I could tell him, but he was nowhere to be seen in dreamland.
It's very odd. I mean, there's no possibility that I'm adopted – I share many of my parents' characteristics (physical and otherwise). I'm close to them, too (so there's no rift that could have sparked this uncomfortable dream). My dad was around, going in and out of the dream, saying it was about time they told me. They seemed sad.
Then, as with dreams, it was nighttime and I was outside in the street of my childhood home. First, someone drove off in my car – my old car that I owned for 15 years. I ran but couldn't catch them as there was snow on the ground. Then, my rabbit, M, was lost outside – I found her and scooped her up. She was wet and shaking, her soft, dark fur was covered in snowflakes. When I awoke, I pulled back the curtains to see that snow is falling...
There is nothing more restful and sweet than the sight of a rabbit washing its face and ears.
• My work schedule, which is on my desktop, is shorter than normal today, as my boss (me) has kindly given me some time off to compensate for my hard work of late. She even got me a free ticket to an exhibition and emailed a friend who I haven't seen for months so we can catch up at lunchtime.
• The sun is pouring through the kitchen/study window. Beautiful. I shall be taking my camera (which itself is within view at the moment). The trees are glinting as the sunshine caresses the leaf buds and evergreen foliage.
• My attractive knee support is on my desk. I left it there after peeling it off after my last kung fu class. I have damaged a ligament and it is unexpectedly painful when I move in certain ways.
• M, the rabbit, is cleaning herself in her soft bed next to me. There is a small clump of fur on the floor from when she fought me while I was giving her antibiotics this morning. I felt terribly guilty for upsetting her but she hates medicine and always struggles. Poor creature.
• My mobile phone, which is relatively new, is sitting there all shiny. I hope the client who has been giving me lots of stress calls today and confirms that they've taken on board what I said and found some resources to help me cope with the mammoth project that I've signed up to work on (I tried to get out of it but it just didn't happen, damn).
• I've just received emails from two friends with whom I plan to visit Paris in early summer. We've finally decided a date, so I shall get booking! Very excited about this. On my desk, there's a black and white postcard of Paris that S brought back for me on his recent trip.
That's what several of my kung fu club friends have said to me. We are going out tonight for a meal at a very nice restaurant. We're meeting in a bar first, then possibly going to one afterwards, too. But what has made me laugh is the number of people who have jested about having a fight once the desserts have gone down.
I don't intend to fight, of course. I'm not quite that obsessed with kung fu, and I haven't become a street-fighting wench. I will keep score if others wish to fight (they won't – they're actually all nice people) but if certain friends could see me now, scaring classmates, talking fighting talk and managing to get in some quick hits with much glee, they would probably think I have a secret twin.
* * *
My pet rabbit is stretched out in her soft bed, looking at me with her liquid brown eyes. Goodness, that creature is the epitome of gentleness. Utterly sweet. The animal manifestation of molasses, velvet, a fluffy hot water bottle and magic dust.
'Tis the first of November, so I shall say 'white rabbits' to attract the luck fairy. Or something.
However, M is a black rabbit and is not too happy about this scenario...
Can anyone tell me where Jan-Oct went? Please?
Feel a bit better today, thank goodness. Maybe I sweated out the remainder of the virus – or the weird stuff that I found in my bottle of mineral water (more later) – at kung fu. Yes, there was a lot of sweat – we were all drenched, exhausted and loved every minute of it. Instructor N was on good form – tough but good-humoured – and the class was a pleasurable mix of pain and triumph.
I still have big bruises on my arms from last week's class. One is purple, one is red with a yellow patch in the middle. It was funny, N told me to "calm it down" when we were in pairs sparring. I have plenty of enthusiasm and speed but my technique needs sharpening up (as is the case with all of us). I quite like that I need to be told to calm it down when sparring with a six-foot man. Ha ha.
But, yes, the water-poison thing. Well, we were out on Sunday, having a relaxed day, stopped at a café for lunch and I bought a bottle of mineral water to take away. I sipped from it. All fine. Later, I put the bottle by my bed, drank half of it and went to sleep – a fitful sleep. The next day, I felt utterly horrendous.
Before we went out (once I felt vaguely normal), I came across the bottle and found that the water was now green, slightly frothy, contained what looked like the large remains of a capsule – floating like pieces of a giant tapeworm – plus tiny purple globes of stuff.
Now, I don't know what it was – it may have been a vitamin. All I know is that I felt like death warmed up the morning after (but then again I had been ill for a few days...). But I couldn't lift my arms or stand. Hmm. If I go back to the café, I'll only get an apology and free bottle of water, and I can't prove anything (though I still have the bottle with the now-purple water). Ugh.
* * * * *
M the rabbit had to go to the vet today. She hated it and tried to hide under the scales (she weighs 2.5kg, a fact that makes my heart melt for some re
ason). The vet gave her two injections and a check up. M tried (as much as a bunny can) to cling to me. It was very sweet. When we got home, she raced around, annoyed and in discomfort. I gave her a carrot top, which she ate, but I know she was disgruntled at being taken to the vet. She looks so sleepy now, poor little thing. I'm playing my iTunes favourites softly, which seem to soothe her. She likes God Only Knows by The Beach Boys, I think. One ear has swivelled towards the computer, you see.
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Listening to: Duran Duran - Rio This may seem naff but I remember being 13, in a plane, flying over the Rio Grande and listening to this song on my Walkman. Fucking amazing... "You make me feel alive, alive, alive..."
I am so hungry. I have just done a sort of dance-type movement, having ordered a curry to be delivered from the best Indian restaurant round here.
I stooped to the floor and told the rabbit, M, that 'we are having curry, yes, we're having curry!'. She didn't even blink. But be sure that she will want a piece of chapatti – she always does.
Ah, my saliva is at the ready. I really am very excited. Mmm...
Even though Albert has been put into rabbit foster care to be rehomed after all the fights she had with M, it would appear that M fears that Albert is lurking.
She sits at the threshold to the large kitchen, a soft lump of squidgy, sweet bunny, all brown eyes and darkest, velvet fur, and watches, even though she is hungry and wants her food bowl. I just moved the door and she flew down the hallway at 40mph.
I'm sure she thinks Albert will leap out like Matt Damon (who is very, very good) in that early apartment scene from The Bourne Ultimatum (the one where the fan's behind the door, if anyone's seen it)...
Poor M.
I'm so, so tired... And today there is a lead weight in my belly. It makes me sink lower, lower, lower...
- The neighbour's comments really hurt me. And I hate that they did.
- I've done loads of DIY in a short space of time. We've worked our arses off.
- Had to work till 1am on Tuesday (I'm supposed to be on holiday).
- I feel sick and my stomach is upset.
- My chest was tight this morning. I was scared.
- I miss Albie (obviously).
- We've had people round viewing the flat already; this is good but I feel horribly unsettled.
- I think I looked like a lemon in kung fu.
It was nice knowing you, little friend.
I have watched Albert washing her silky butterscotch ears, possibly for the last time. Tomorrow, she will in all likelihood, be re-homed. She is such a lovely creature, sweet, and makes me smile when her whiskers brush my ankles as she gives me rabbit kisses.
But she and M no longer get on.
I have been taken by surprise by the sense of loss I feel at the prospect of losing my little pet.
The lump in my throat is choking me.
