I had 7, almost 8 good years with him, but it just seemed too short. He was the gentlest of souls. Just a sweet, furry light in the world. I’m managing, but I’m also thoroughly devastated.

It wasn’t that long ago that he was a tiny baby that could sit in the palm of my hand. My little mouse. We became very close after his brother died. I would go to visit him downstairs, we would touch noses as a greeting, and he would sniff my face and try to groom my eyelashes.

He had such a spirit about him, and he seemed to trust that I would make sure everything would be okay. No small feat for such a timid little guy.

I will miss him. His barks of protest, when he didn’t want to be pet or held. His patience to endure being held when he knew we were just trying to take care of him. His way of holding things with his little “hands”. The way he let me cuddle him when he was sick.

You’ve spoiled me, Koji. It will be a long time before I can stop comparing every chinchilla to you, that’s how special you are. I love that you let me stroke you behind the ears, and even over your head. I love that you would let me pick you up, and you would settle into my hand as if you knew that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.

I hope Mochi is with you, and Taro, and Momo, and Yuki. I hope you’re all together up there. I hope you’re teasing the rabbits who are 5-times your size, running and jumping and eating your way through fields of grass and hay and craisins. I hope you’re having fun. It’ll be a long time before I see you, I hope you’ll be there to greet me when it’s my time. Goodnight, baby Koji.

I don’t think Momo would want me to be sad, but sometimes it’s hard to ignore the void that used to be occupied by the smooshy tyrannical despot.

Momo, yours was a love of the ages. You redefined rabbits, you broke the mold. No one could tell you what to do unless you let them, and yet you loved so much, so deeply, that you seemed so happy to do what people asked of you.

You entered my life headstrong and brutish, and became the sweetest, most outstanding rabbit I have ever had the privilege of knowing and loving. We taught each other about people and bunnies, and shared something entirely unique. You were the Yuki of rabbits, the one after whom no one could ever really follow.

You melted my heart because you chose to love me. You didn’t just love me because I always fed you, I had to earn your trust. I had to show you that people weren’t dreadful, and could be treated gently instead of with your sharp incisors.

You showed me what an office bunny is. You showed me your thunderous binkies of delight. You showed me how even the largest of cats would cower before you, even when you presented yourself in friendship.

You showed me a love unlike any other, and for that I can never thank you enough. Run, dash, binky . . . devour the green meadows across the Rainbow Bridge and leave a trail of pooties so that others will always know how to get there. I love you, Momo.

a wee movie of Momo – ignore the painfully unfunny dialogue in the background

All the pets birthdays are always of note, but Momo’s is the only birthday that I’m ever really sure of.

On the one hand, every birthday is a celebration of the first day that we met him after he had been abandoned in a box at a pet store. On the other hand, it’s also an unfortunate reminder that he’s getting older, and won’t be with us forever.

Somehow I’ve reconciled with the mortality of the others, but maybe because Momo is the first rabbit that I’ve developed such a close attachment to, it’s hard to imagine that life will actually go on after he’s gone.

I guess he’s destined to be more than a rabbit, in much the same way that Yuki was more than a cat.

I was surprised at how few rabbits and cats there were. I visit the Edmonton City Pound website regularly, and I knew that I had seen many more cat and rabbits than the few that were at the SPCA. I was reading a pamphlet about how the city pound is now taking in strays rather than the SPCA, and it suddenly dawned on me. Only a very small portion of all the animals I’ve seen on the website ever get a chance to be adopted. Very, very small. So small, that I almost started crying when I realized. The animals that don’t get sent to the SPCA for adoption are euthanized. Of all those beautiful cats and rabbits that I looked at and felt hopeful about them being adopted at the SPCA, only a small handful ever got the chance.

Now my heart is aching for all the Yuki look-alikes that I’ve seen on the city pound website. There are more, and it’s heartbreaking.