There are tough calls to make and then there are tough calls. First the hard decision, finally, to say it is enough. It is time. And then the tough call to the vet to prepare to say goodbye to this sweet little rabbit of mine. The real, actual call where another person picks up and I explain and my voice cracks and betrays me.
All day long I find myself forgetting to breathe. At my computer desk, where my fingers write down a date and a time. In the steam of the shower with my arms wrapped around myself to keep from flying apart. Over dinner where I eat but still find myself empty.
And then I go to her, at night when the house is still. Just the two of us. I dance my fingers across her soft head, lightly down the knobs of her spine. And I lower my face so we are eye to eye. I love you, I say. She touches her nose to mine. And for a brief moment the air clears and makes a little space for me. It will be ok. It has to be. For this quiet moment, I can breathe.