Merle died in my arms. She had been sitting on the side walk and had not moved when I walked close by. I knew something was wrong with her, so I picked her up to check for some obvious injuries, put her in a safe place, gave her some fresh grass. She raised her head and looked at me after a while, seemingly not as terrified as at first.
But then she rolled over on her side and her heart stopped beating.
I know that she is one of almost uncountable many rabbits out there, dying either of natural course (only very few), of being hit by cars, trains, tractors, etc.; being killed through testings on animals; being killed for their fur; being killed for fun by hunters and other strange people who get a kick out death.
I know all of that. For me, Merle was someone special, someone singular and unique.
Here are some helpful websites on rabbits – there actually are no statistics out there on how many rabbits die because humans killed them:
Saving one animal will not change the world, but the world will change for that one animal – and for you.