Tall Grass, Short Story

The last month has been very depressing for me.  It is still too painful for me to go over the details, but the main part of it was that I lost Jemima to a rapidly growing tumour the week before Easter.  Since then, I have been constantly surprised by what does and doesn't bring back the deep feelings of loss.

Cleaning her room I thought would be difficult but in fact felt very ordinary and unemotional.

In the supermarket I find myself standing where the spring greens should be being so frustrated they have none.

"What am I going to do for breakfast tomorrow?  They don't even have savoy cabbage, poor Je...oh."

I forget I don't need them.  I walk on and try to distract my brain by staring at the herbs trying to recall which ones don't upset Whisky's tummy, I don't want to lose my composure in the vegetable aisle.

Today it was the garden.  I was on the sofa doing nothing of consequence when Whisky came barreling into the room.  It is unusual to see him before 3pm, he usually naps until then, but since he seemed to be full of beans I opened the back door and let him straight out.  Usually he runs about, sniffs and scents things for a bit then heads back in.  20 minutes is normally about his limit, 2 is not uncommon, but today he stayed out there for over an hour wandering about and eating the grass.  As a rabbit with no front teeth this is quite challenging for Whisky, but now the grass is long he can just wander about grinding the ends off with his back teeth.  I had a brief moment of happiness, seeing him do something so naturally rabbity he rarely does, before I remembered why the grass was so long and my heart sank again.

Well that was Sunday.  At least we are finally seeing more sunshine than snow - if anything is going to cheer me up it is bunnies frolicking in the good weather.

"Oh wow, so this is like dried grass, only...er..not dry?"

"Leave me.  I think I may have a new favourite thing."