16/07/2025
hi, it's Lauren, Director here at Snickerdoodles'. I don't typically write our rescue posts in my point of view, but I felt this is needed, & hope that it resonates with you all, as well as our wonderful, dedicated rescue volunteers, animal advocates & veterinary team. After all, this is the reality of rescue work, and the crisis of rabbit dumping world-wide.
She's gone.
This is heavy, and it's real, & I share this unapologetically.
& for our dear Regina. God, we all love you so damn much. I write this letter to you & hope that you feel the energy and spirit from every soul that continues to root for you.
You were already fading when you found your way into our arms, and none of us knew it yet. For that time being, we saw you, and we hear you, & we still do. You were so full of a rare, energetic, bouncing spark, that will continue to be so uniquely you, our rare Regina. You carried more pain than a creature your size should ever be asked to hold. Someone cruelly decided you were done serving whatever purpose they imagined for you. So they left you, in the dirt, to fend for yourself, to vanish without witness.
But you were seen.
Not as waste, not as broken, not as your traumas. Seen. And from the moment we all saw your beautiful pink & blue eyes, we knew your story wasn't over yet.
We waged a quiet war together as the infection rapidly took you over. Through the multiple vet appointments, fluid therapy, antibiotics, pain management, appetite stimulants, probiotics, syringe feedings, the whispered promises, and all the desperation we could carry with you in steady hands. You drank your medicine like a child clinging to life, latching onto the syringe. I let myself hope, even as your body betrayed you cell by cell. You nibbled your lettuce and bits of hay with resolve. Until you didn't. Until you couldn't.
It came quickly…too quickly. The numbers on the bloodwork told a truth I already knew. Your liver, your kidneys, your strength... all slipping away. Your organs were failing. You held on longer than anyone expected. Not because your body was strong. But because your soul was.
I watched you unravel, day by day. Muscle by muscle. I sat with you and through your whimpers and yelps. Still, you turned your eyes to find me. Still, you leaned in. Still, you let me love you.
I play calming instrumental music to soothe you during this process and stroke that soft spot between your ears as we lay together on the floor, surrounded by medicines and syringes, filling the room with a sweet scent & hay untouched. The warmth of you, all clung to the towel I wrapped you in.
You made these faint snuffling sounds, like whispers from another world. Each sound was a blade. Sharp. Unfair. I wanted to crawl inside your pain and pull it out, strand by strand. I wanted to build a nest around you made of every ounce of comfort I could find.
The chill started in your tail, then to your toes, and crawled up your spine. There was still warmth in your belly. I found myself pressing my hand there again and again as if I could ignite something inside you. Just a little longer. Just a little more time.
You had pulled fur from your dewlap, tufts of it stained faintly red where your teeth had worked in frantic ritual, grasping onto whatever comfort you could find. It traced my hands red as I sifted through the fur. Maybe nesting instincts from children she's birthed in a previous life. I wonder if she misses and thinks of her bunny family, her siblings, her children. Does she remember them? Does she think of them in this moment? I talk with her and ask her questions.
I told you what I hoped you'd always known: "You matter. You’re safe. I’m still here. It's okay. You got this." over & over.
Your breath slowed. Your light flickered. And the world tilted. The silence. Oh, the silence. Even through the soft lullabies that still played for us in the background. The echo of your last breath. Still cradling you as if you might change your mind.
A human puddle of tears and rage and gratitude. I sobbed until my throat grew raw. I cursed the wind and the cruelty of humans who treat lives like trash. I screamed into the hollow where your weight used to be. I hated everything & everyone for a moment. I'm grieving the life you could have had. You deserved a life full of sunshine naps, tunnels, treats, and soft voices. You deserved a future, to be someone's someone. Yet, I accept these quiet & deafining moments between us, together.
Regina, your death wasn’t peaceful in the romanticized way people speak of; it was real. It was raw. It was sacred.
I am privileged to spend these moments with her, and to know it's with us instead of still outside where she was cruelly thrown out by herself , her previous owner deciding they were done with her, that she serves no purpose. With me, with our rescue, with the souls that intertwine with hers and understand her, she has a purpose and is welcomed, always.
We want justice. For Regina, & for every dumped & neglected rabbit.
Justice means education.
Justice means accountability.
Justice means stronger laws protecting companion animals.
Justice means seeing rabbits as worthy lives.
She is not a tragedy.
She is a truth. & part of this rescue’s heartbeat.
Say hi to Snickerdoodles for me, please. Give her a kiss if she’ll let you. She'll take care of you.
just as she and countless other, beloved animals that guided you over the Rainbow Bridge. We celebrate your existence, your spirits that dance with us in our dreams, as we share a continued understanding, and that's something no one can take away.
~Lauren
