Last night, Pelé inexplicably took a turn for the worse. He experienced a round of seizures before becoming very listless. His breathing was labored and raspy. We drove him down to the emergency clinic in Blue Ash as fast as we could, but he passed shortly after arrival.

He was a wonderfully sweet bunny and a joy to be around. Even though he stayed with me for only a couple of days, I miss him terribly. My only consolation is that he spent his final days with people who loved him rather than alone in the backyard of that hellhole of a house in Trotwood.

It's always the little ones who pay for the stupidity of the dregs of society.