Trauma isn’t just abuse, it’s loss, too. And it doesn’t matter how big or small that loss may seem to others, they will weave themselves into the fabric of your soul.
Have you ever shared your home with a tiny lion? I have. She wasn’t a lion, of course, but a lionhead bunny. Try telling that to her personality. As far as she was concerned, she was a lion.
She told me her name in a dream before I adopted her. Eris, Goddess of Chaos and Discord. It was January 2014 when we mutually decided she should live in my house, She marched to the beat of her own drum. There was no telling this creature what to do – it was all on her terms, all the time. After fighting every bun in the house, she settled into companionship with Jack, which blossomed into one of the deepest bonds I have ever seen. For four years these two were more deeply in love than any other pair of sentient beings you’ve ever witnessed.
Then Eris got a respiratory infection that antibiotics weren’t fully clearing up. She fought me on them most of the time, which was great, showing she still had plenty of spunk left in her. For two months we did the back and forth antibiotics, hoping to get her back to full health. The last night, she punched me square in the mouth with her tiny paw. A victory for me, my little lion was feeling great. Right?
Until the next morning when i found her lying unresponsive. I picked her up and held her for about fifteen minutes when she passed away in my arms, leaving behind a 3.6 pound hole in my heart and in the heart of her companion. It’s day four without her. I can’t say when this will get easier, but it WILL. Time marches on.
Rest easy, my little lion. You were so loved.
Submitted by Jessica