31/05/2026
Yesterday, I did the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I held my beloved bunny, Sushie, in my arms and against my chest as I said goodbye, telling her over and over how much I loved her.
Sushie was more than just a rabbit; she was a family member and my absolute best friend. For those who knew her, you know she had become a bit of a local celebrity—she was the face and mascot of my pet company, and she will always remain that mascot so that her spirit lives on through my work.
She lived an incredible, long life, reaching 12 years and two months. In human years, that’s nearly 100. Everyone kept telling me what a testament this was to the level of care I had given her; I was meticulous. I made sure she was as healthy as possible and had constant health check-ups. Looking back, I must have spent enough money on her over the years to put down a deposit on a house, but she was worth every single penny for the memories and the love she gave me. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
I did have one regret: I desperately wanted her to have a friend after her original partner, Coco, passed. We marched multiple suitors in front of her, working alongside expert re-bonders, but Sushie would have none of it—she didn't want any of them. In the end, she seemed much happier having the whole giant enclosure all to herself, living a life of total luxury where she wanted for nothing.
To those who aren't "animal folk," it might be hard to understand the depth of this bond. But Sushie didn’t need a voice to be there for me. I’ve had her since I was 19, and now, in my 30s, she has been my constant companion through every life event, illness, and struggle. She was my baby, and I was her mum. She gave me a reason to get up every day; my life revolved around her. She was as intelligent as any dog, and to lose her is exactly like losing a human relative.
I am struggling to come to terms with this silence. There is such an empty space now, and a little piece of me has gone with her. I ask for your patience if I am slower to respond to messages than usual. When I am able to cope a little more, I plan to create a scrapbook of memories and some mementos to honor her. If anyone local knows someone who makes needle felts or small sculptures and might want to help me with this, please get in touch.
I will always cherish the little things: how she loved to smell my shoes and chew my slippers, and how she’d try to sneakily eat dry leaves, ending up with them all over her face like a funny little lion. I had so many nicknames for her, and they would always change according to her mood—my "Little Leaf Monster," my "Bear," "Sushie Bear," "Little Monkey," the "Fur Queen," and "BDB," which was another special name I gave her: Sushie Wish. I’ll miss her rearranging the furniture and her legendary sass. If she was in a mood, you knew it—she’d thump her foot or toss her things around. Those furtive glances and judging eyes used to make me laugh like nothing else. And whenever I was sad or crying, she would often come up behind me and bob at the back of my legs, just to let me know that she was there and that I could talk to her.
I am going to make sure her memory stays alive. As many of you know, I write, and Sushie has a cameo role as a pet rabbit in the current series of novels I’m working on. A couple of years back, I also wrote a series of mini children's stories called Detective Rabbity, based entirely on her. While I wasn't able to publish them at the time, I have them at home as a special keepsake, and maybe one day I will return to them, using her quirky image—those helicopter ears and her funny fur—as my inspiration once again.
I want to say a special thank you to my partner, who has been my absolute rock while I’ve been breaking down and to my mum. I also need to say a massive thank you to Ian Cope at Vets for Pets in Newmarket, who has cared for Sushie since she was a baby, and his wonderful team who cared for her so beautifully in her final days. I know how well-liked and loved she was at the clinic for her quirkiness.
l also want to send a heartfelt thank you to the carers who looked after Sushie whenever I had to be away—Pam, Kim, and more recently, Vanessa. You have all been absolute stars. I always felt so comfortable leaving her in your care, and the updates you sent me meant the world. The thought of going away and not having those updates to look forward to leaves such a massive hole in my heart.
I will be posting some of my favorite photos and videos of her here, and I plan to write a blog about her soon. Further down the line, I also want to write some helpful guides on managing elderly "golden oldies." I don't know if I can ever have pets again—no one will ever replace Sushie or be quite like her—she was one of a kind. but for now, I just want to hope that my baby girl is at peace, enjoying herself, and eating lots of treats and that she knew how much she was loved.
Sleep well, my sweet girl. You were one of a kind, and you will be loved forever. Sushie 2014-2026
