I had plotted, planned and prioritized research above all else. I was going to locate the perfect show rabbit to use as my project for FFA at Youth Fair throughout high school.

Holland Lops and Netherland Dwarfs were my preferred choice for their petite size. Hours of research turned into meeting with a rabbitry in an hour from my house to meet two Holland Lop rabbits that were potential choices.

Having saved my money for a few months, I had more than enough to pick the perfect bunny and all of his necessities.

Williams Lil Boy Blue was a broken blue bunny who was approximately two to three months old at the time. That day feels like decades in the past, but it was a little more than six years ago. I had to pick between him and another bun who was more outgoing and a bit older.

I am so thankful that I chose to bring home Williams Lil Boy Blue who quickly became Blue for short. He was timid and a bit defensive when I first brought him into my home, but I spend every day laying in the middle of the room quietly as he slowly learned to trust his new surroundings.

He began to learn that he loved climbing on my back while I was reading and nibbling on whatever novel was in my hands at the moment.

The first time I took him to youth fair and left him overnight I felt horrible. He was used to being in a house surrounded by people who were constantly stopping by to give him attention, and for a few days, he would be stuck in a small cage being judged on his coat, his build and how close he fell to the Standard of Perfection.

Blue only attended a few shows before he was retired to house rabbit status. He was my buddy who hopped around my room, nibbling on my socked feet while I worked on Calculus homework, school projects and the writing of my novels.

He was always there. I think at some point I began to take that for granted. I knew he was aging and that unfortunately the animals that become our best friends and our family members have limited lifespans.

Blue was slowly losing some of his senses, and he didn’t have quite as much control over his bladder, but he still loved veggies (carrots were his favorite), and he still loved to run around and play with all of his assorted toys.

He used to get a little orange stain on his velvety mouth every time he was given a carrot, and he made a particular chirpy noise every time I came to greet him when I got home.

Blue loved everyone, he loved my families dogs, he loved my cats and he loved his rabbit companion, Brie. He never got agitated and instead was innocent in all of his actions. He was the sweetest little ball of fluff you would ever meet.

I think he had waited to say goodbye until I got home. I think he knew that I would want to say my final farewell, and I believe he wanted to see me one last time.

I knew as soon as I got home from my internship on March 7th that something was amiss. I found him fading away and clutched him to my chest making him comfortable.

Frantically I went over everything that I had learned in my time working with animals to try and come up with a solution, but even as I tried to fool myself into believing that he was just feeling under the weather, I knew that this was it. This was the end for him.

I debated briefly taking him to a local emergency clinic but knew from my experience that he wouldn’t make it that far. So instead I curled up on the floor with him and cuddled him as he drifted off.

Blue heard how good of a rabbit he was and how blessed I was to have been given the opportunity to spend six years of his life with him. I told him it was okay to let go now; that I was there. Just like that, he took his final breath.

I had to get him back to Lakeland where my family’s property is. I couldn’t bare the thought of Orlando being his final resting place--a land still somewhat foreign to the both of us.

As I drove the two-hour drive, lengthened by 5 o'clock traffic on I-4, I drove in complete silence. I was remembering every highlight of my Lapine companion’s life. He rested beside me, wrapped in his blue plush blanket with his favorite apple toy tucket beside him.

Blue was buried at 8 p.m. on March 7th on the Bryant family acreage in Lakeland, where he had spent most of his life.

The drive back to Winter Park was worse than the trip to Lakeland, by far. I didn’t want to walk into my apartment where his absence would be felt most intensely.

My other animals knew something was wrong. They watched me with sullen eyes and worriedly nudged me when I walked past.

Maui, my tabby cat, was curled up in Blue’s igloo and peered at me with eyes that wondered where his playmate had gone. I wish that I could explain it to him in words that he would understand.

Blue was six years old. Many rabbits live until ten, and while he had no obvious pertinent health concerns besides the signs of age that he displayed, I knew that he would leave me eventually. But I had no idea that it would be so soon.

I stayed up that night, dismantling his cage so that I could dispose of it and tucking his belongings into a bin. The only thing worse than seeing the empty space was walking in to see his abandoned belongings.

Nothing prepares you to lose a pet. We grow with them and they become part of our lives in a way that their existence is intertwined with ours. My animals are my entire life and they each mean the world to me.

Losing Blue was both sudden and devastating, but it is a reminder of our mortality. We are only on Earth for so long, and our pets have a much shorter Earthly existence than we do.

Hug your dog, kiss your cat, tell your rabbit you love him. No matter the type of pet you have, spend a bit of extra time with them and remind yourself of how lucky you are to have them in your life.

Our animals are not here with us forever, but they will forever be in our hearts.

Rest in peace, my Blue boy, you will be missed.