from the ending of WATERSHIP DOWN--

one chilly, blustery morning in March, I cannot tell exactly how many springs later, Hazel was dozing and waking in his burrow. He had spent a good deal of time there lately, for he felt the cold and could not seem to smell or run so well as in days gone by...he awoke to realize that there was a rabbit lying quietly beside him.
"you've been feeling tired" said the stranger, "but I can do something about that"

Hazel followed [the stranger] and together they slipped away, running easily down through the wood, where the first primroses were beginning to bloom.

I never liked the ending when I read the book, but I found it comforting when I read it this morning. I wasn't there when he died. I have been there for HUNDREDS of other animals. Most of whom I never saw before that day.
In a strange way, I find his death comforting. I realized this morning that his is the first peaceful death I've seen. The ones that I am always a part of, are always suffering, painful, struggling for their next breath, not knowing where they are or who I am.
I found him stretched out, in his favorite spot next to the radiator, a pile of big healthy bunny poops next to him. I wish I could have been there, or hugged him before I left for work that night. I wish I could have watched him eat one last cheese doodle.

He was part of my dream, of course-but then I was part of his dream, too.

--from Through the Looking-Glass