In Memory of
Rud Ridge's Ruth

Who is Ruth?
It has occurred to me that the page has grown quite a bit and so many may not know the story of our Ruth... well, here it is!
Ruth was born on February 7th, 2022 in a litter of 11. The litter was born the day before what I considered the due date, and I just so happened to check the nestbox when I came back from the bank. The Dam was sitting in the nestbox, fur sticking out, and when I stuck my hand in I found babies scattered everywhere. Not cleaned, not in a pile. They were all cold and I thought the litter was a total loss. But I worked hard and got back 9 out of the 11. Thinking that it was a fluke, as I had gotten the Dam as proven and was told she was a fantastic mother, I made up the nestbox, tucked the babies I saved back in, gave the nestbox back and went back inside to give the dam space.
I will never make that mistake again.
About 15 minutes later I peeked out to find that not only had the Dam destroyed the nest to sit in the box, she had stomped the babies, scattering them and leaving them cold and lifeless again. She had crushed four more beyond saving, and I was able to put the remaining 5 into my bra for a trip to Farm and Fleet for supplies. So started my first journey in hand feeding. I called them the Fantastic Fluffle... hence Ruth's tattoo: RRFF3 (Rud Ridge's Fantastic Fluffle number 3)
Up to that point we had been blessed with fantastic Does who were fantastic Mommas. I could have counted the number of kit losses on one hand. This litter was one that I couldn't genetically repeat, and I was overall Salty. I started with hand feeding every 2 hours just tiny amounts, then every 4 hours. They slept next to me in a bowl wrapped in a towel. I tried to jump to feeding every 6 hours too quickly and we lost a chocolate that I would have thought was the healthiest, and a tiny Lilac Otter runt who just wasn't strong enough at about 2 weeks old. That left us with 3: Bonnie, Baby and Ruth.
By six weeks old, Bonnie had trouble weaning. Baby had splayed legs and had been obviously beat up bur was strong. Ruth was our little spitfire and truly thought I was Momma. Unfortunately Bonnie didn't survive weaning. Baby went to a friend to be a very loved pet. And Ruth? Well, Ruth became our unofficial mascot.

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1,536 Days. 
That's how many days we, I, got with Ruth.
There are probably literally a thousand favorite photos I could have attached to this post.
But, instead... I give you two pictures from her last day, and two pictures from her beginning. 
If you've been around, you know the lore. You know of the Fantastic Fluffle... you know of late nights and odds beat. Or, you know it's Ruth's world, we just live in it.
It's something that I just don't know how to explain to people who don't know.
One year ago I looked at Ruth's face and noticed it looked "fat". Thank God for 🍀, because she finally listened to me and looked at Ruth's face closely.... Ruth had a dental abcess. 🍀 helped me get Ruth well... and have what would be her third chance at life. I'm eternally grateful for the extra year.
A few months ago I noticed Ruth hopping "crooked". Not dragging, not in pain... just not quite right. Given her rough start and then tooth infection I figured the years were just wearing on her. As the weeks passed, though, I knew the time of Ruth being with us was going to be shorter than I had hoped. I always envisioned her and I sitting together after 🦄🚜 were graduated, snuggling in bed with true crime. A lofty and slightly delusional dream indeed.... 
Wednesday morning I had big plans to get the house in order an prepared for the trip to Weyauawega this weekend. Shortly before 🧂 took 🦄🚜 to school I walked into the Retirement Room to see Ruth.... dragging her back legs... and she obviously had been doing so all night. 
She couldn't hop. She couldn't Binky. She couldn't thump. She couldn't jump in and out of her litterbox. Looking back, she probably had intermittent complete loss of use, we had just been away from the house enough we didn't see it. What I attributed as marking a new rug was likely Ruth's loss of function. 
I knew. I texted 🍀 a video and a message that simply said "I think it's time". 🦄🚜  knew, too... and said their goodbyes before school.
Then, I went to dig.
I always said I willed Ruth to live with everything in me, and I was going to be the one to give her mercy if it ever came to it.
I picked a spot that wouldn't need to be dug up that I know of and was not too far from the old oak tree stump. You could see where our daughters are put to rest, and the chicken coop, and the rabbit barn, and the school house. I dug four feet down in dirt that was thankfully pretty wet. 
I checked on Tootsie Roll at some point and found babies.
I made the announcement post on the page and gathered up things.
And then I put Ruth in a blanket lined tub that she just barley fit in to keep her comfortable... and took her outside.
At first, she sat in the bin. I sat on a blanket on the ground next to her. The chickens came and visited. The barn cats were very confused.
Eventually I decided to let her out on the grass... and at first she sat and moved so well that I questioned my sanity. 🧂 came home at one point and said "you wanted to give her one last good day... let her wonder."
So I did. She wasn't faster than me anymore. 
Not like that time back on Maiden St when I let her in a pen in the back yard for the first time and she escaped.... only letting me catch her because the world was scary, I was Momma, and the neighbors house across the road wasn't nearly as interesting as she thought. 
She managed well. She hopped around the side of the school house, then back to the leaves and branches and stumps... she demanded two hand pets and wouldn't eat the dandelions or lettuce I brought for her. I took hundreds of pictures.
When I noticed how swollen she looked, and how she was dragging and staying one spot more, I set her on the old oak stump. "The girls tree" as it is known, for it was where we laid to rest two of our daughters two years apart. She didn't want to move anymore. And sat for a few more pictures. As much as I wanted to spend more hours until there wasn't any more light with her... then take her inside for true crime... I didn't want to prolong her suffering. 
So I went to the barn and got the metal bar I use for all our cervical dislocation dispatches. I put Johnny Cash "You Are My Sunshine" on my headset. I walked Ruth back to the concrete in front of the school house, hugged her, kissed her, told her I loved her and I was sorry... set her on the ground, and a couple seconds later it sas over. She didn't suffer. I didn't hesitate in any way except in my heart.
And then I sobbed.
And I held her.
I decided I needed to let May and Axiom in the retirement room say goodbye. Which was an interesting process itself.
Then I went back and buried her.
I like to think that God gave me Ruth to get me from where I was when she was born to today. That maybe after recovering from my car accident at the end of 2024 and living all the way through 2025, the good Lord decided that it was just time because I know how to lean on Him to get through the loss of Ruth.
I happen to think that Ruth losing Donuts sped things along for her aging, too.
Ruth built Rud Ridge Rabbitry. She really did. She built me, too. And thrust me into a world where SOMEHOW I am actually considered the source for things? I'm still not sure how that happened.
Ruth filled a spot in my arms and in my heart that after the deaths of our daughters would never be filled will my own babies again. She filled a spot in our home while we waited for 🧂 to retire. She brought joy to people all over the world. I don't honestly remember what life was like before her.
"Hi girls" I say, as the sun sets over Rud Ridge and we tuck the flock into the coop. Not quietly. Not urgently. But with the matter of fact nature like they can hear me. This time, that includes Ruth. Over by the old oak tree stump and the little purple flowers and the branches mess that we still need to clean up. I like to think as we fix up the chicken pen and the school house and the garden and the oak tree stump area I will talk to them more and more. With more peace.
But I'm going to miss pressing my face into her fur. And two handed pets. And her thumps when I called her name. And coffee and true crime. And just, well, her.
July 6, 2030 will be the day that I will have spent as many days without Ruth as I had with her. 🦄 Will be graduated. 🚜 won't be far behind. There will still be a bazillion dishes and laundry and things to be done. Whatever comes and goes by that day, I know we will get through. I have faith we will pray and pivot. And I know, without a single doubt that Ruth will have been pivotal in getting me to the person I am at that point... because she was essential to who I am today.
The timing of it all isn't lost on me. To go to Rex Nationals just days after Ruth's death, without bringing rabbits to show, allowed me to go "for Ruth" in a way I may not have otherwise. It has given me a different way to say goodbye. To grieve. To be after an all around difficult rabbit year. Ruth went with me to Nationals. Just in a different way... a good one... where her sass and sparkle showed through me. 
Raised with Heart. Remembered for Heart. The Heart of Rud Ridge. That's our Ruth.
If you're still reading, thank you. I am willing to bet Ruth left a little sass and sparkle for you, too. There will be no replacement. There isn't another duplicate. This is the end of an era. And that is okay.
As always, thank you for being along for the ride.