Juliana Lieuwen

A collage of some of the many photos I took of Oliver.

Dear Oliver,

You were my fluffy best friend.

Your soft, furry hair soothed me while I was at my worst. Your calming energy complemented my chaotic moods. You managed to bring me laughter and joy on the days I could not seem to muster up those emotions myself. 

You were my Christmas miracle. 

I got you a week before Christmas Eve, a week before my Mom’s first chemotherapy appointment. Little did I know then, but the months to follow would be some of the hardest of my life. 

I found you at the darkest point of my life, and you brought me back to Earth. I don’t know how I would have gotten through 2021 without you. You would let me seep your fur with tears, and then afterward, would lick away the evidence of my sadness.

You were the one consistent thing in my life. The one I could always count on to cheer me up.

Now that you are gone, I don’t know what to do with myself. 

Watching the light leave your eyes crushed a part of my soul. Watching you leave this earth—hopefully to a better place—shattered me. 

Thank you for everything you did. Thank you for the laughter, joy, and comfort you brought me. Thank you for being the best bunny a girl could ask for. 

You had such a big personality, bigger than I thought a rabbit could have. You had your quirks, like how you were supposed to be a Holland Lop, yet you refused to let your ears entirely fall down. You did the funniest things, like when you would get the zoomies and run around my room, jumping up in delight. The way that every time I would give you a treat, your whole body would twitch with joy. 

You always managed to find ways to outsmart me. You would find new ways to escape your cage every day, and despite all of the changes I made to your pen to make it “escape-proof,” there would still be times when I would walk into my room only to find a bunny on the loose. 

You would return my pets with kisses, and every time I stopped petting you, you would give off a large thump, declaring your disapproval.

You were able to bounce back from anything. I remember when I brought you home from your neuter surgery and built a special litter box so you could walk into it rather than hop. Even though I did this, you decided to jump over the high part of the litter box instead of going in the easy way. 

I miss running my hand through your soft fur. I miss walking into my room to find a bunny who had once again outsmarted me and found a way to escape his cage. I miss looking at your partially flopped ears.

I miss you.

You were ripped away from me far too soon, but I can find solace in knowing you are in a better place. I hope you are living your best life up in bunny heaven. 

Thank you for all you did for me; I love you.