In terms of a domestic rabbit who has always been kept in a home interior's life-span, she has had a fairly long one. She is over ten years of age. She has been kept in an enclosure all her life with another rabbit whose presence she was patiently taught to be receptive toward.

Her caretaker constructed a multi-level living arrangement for the two little rabbits. They seemed to enjoy one another's company and lived well together. They would be permitted, from time to time, to wander about the room in which their enclosure was located, sometimes for hours at a time. And they had plenty of company for there were other animals around and about, quite a few dogs and several cats. The other animals rarely took notice of the little rabbits. It was the quintessential peaceable kingdom.

Time passes. The little rabbit has passed its tenth year. During the last few months it has sometimes had to be encouraged to eat. It was struggling occasionally, to get up and about, and stopped hopping up to the top stories of the enclosure. She is a fluffy little creature, her name is Katie and her presence is taken for granted by the humans who live in that house. They have always appreciated her responsiveness and cannot imagine a time when she isn't present in their lives.

Katie has been getting progressively weaker in the last several weeks. And the weaker she has become, struggling to raise herself from the more commonly prone position she has succumbed to, the more eager she has become to eat. Seeing her eat so ravenously has been an encouraging sign. But her growing feebleness and the inevitability of her departure mitigate against her brief rallying being mistaken for recovery.

Although the enclosure that has been home to her for the past ten years is cleaned on a daily basis, it was necessary two days ago to give Katie a gentle, warm bath, to remove from her still-fluffy fur and her wasted body the evidence of her inability to perform her normal evacuations the way a robust healthy rabbit would do.

When the daughter of the family left to catch her 7:00 a.m. school bus, Katie was attempting to rise. When the mother of the family went down to look at her brood a little later in the early morning, it was clear that Katie simply could not muster the energy that had escaped her, to ever rise again. She was gently lifted and placed in a basket, scarcely breathing.

There she lies, unmoving, covered with a little blanket, lying comfortably in a fluffy towel, struggling to maintain life. She is still breathing, barely.