Salutations from the fierce and faithful protector, Sir Peter Rabbit, Order of the Protectorate of Small Ones 08/19/10

I salute you one and all, from my position that remains closest to my Sage.I am happy to report that my Sage is finding rest, in this ongoing stream of people and pokes and noises in the night, and that I remain close by her - closer, I might add, than all the humans around her, for I remain next to her, never more than a whisker's distance from her. I sit when needed, lie down if necessary, stand tall resolutely or find myself diving below the covers to keep solace with her while the humans make their talk. I give my head for my Sage to rest her hand upon and my fine tail to grab when there is pain. I see the details of her fingers and the workings of her heart. I have come to know what everything means, in this world of the white coats.

I watch the breathing machine and I breathe with it, for her. I have come to know every inch and crevice of this resting place, this machine of a bed that can move my Sage so that her body will not find itself quite so sore. It is like riding on one of those great giant puffy clouds that move across the sky that I watch them from my post upon the bed of air. I whisper to my Sage of the adventures we have still yet to find. I imagine and wonder with as much fierceness I can muster - being only a rabbit and a small one at that - at the magical places and moments and creatures and humans in this world we have yet to discover, together.
I do believe that my whisperings make a difference at this time to my Sage. How do you know this, you ask? My goodness what a question. All I know is that it is what we who protect the small ones do, as often and as easily as breathing. It is our very nature to bring the magic that I think you humans call love, that no one else can find quite like us, in the quiet corners of the night. It is what I have done from the very moment I came to this small one, and it is what I will continue to do as long as I am by her side.
Not that I do not learn from the humans. I watch them. I see in their eyes the gifts they bring. They know who they are and the comfort of stillness that their presence brings. The wise elder one, this one who sits with my Sage even now and simply holds her hand. No need for words. When this one is near, I can rest, even though I am only a rabbit, and a small one at that.  

And then there are the ones who are most precious to Sage, and she to them. The ones who brought life to her and have tended to her needs. The one who sings to her, softly but clearly enough so that I can hum her words in the wee hours of the night, when she the singing one goes to rest. I cannot remember all the words, but that voice of this human protector of my Sage causes me such drowsiness; it is like the ocean and the sunset together. I will muster myself for a moment and see if I can find them.
Ah yes, here they are:
... ~ Sleep my child and peace attend thee, all through the night/ guardian angels God will send thee, all through the night/ soft the drowsy hours are creeping, hill and dale in slumber sleeping/ I my loved ones' watch is keeping, all through the night ~ ...
And then there is the other one, the quiet one, my Sage's other human protector. He comes in the night and sits all through the darkness with my Sage. He calls her 'my Sagey Bug' and strokes her hand. He speaks the stories of their days together and the ones that are yet to come. He came across the sea on a giant something or other and I would so very much like to speak to him of this, but I am only a rabbit, and a rather shy one at that. He talks of this and many other adventures. My ears perk up and my eyes glisten when he speaks of such things. There is a softness in his eyes which drives away what he calls 'the ouchies'.
My Sage knows all who are near her, even with the sleepy medicine. As she comes back from the land of light and mist, I stand with her, as do all these humans both near and far. She is returning, slowly, to be sure. I never doubted for a moment it would not be so.
How do you know this, you ask? My goodness, what a question. I do not ask so many questions, but I will say just this once, with politeness between my whiskers, how could you not know this? I know it as I know the scent of dew upon the grass and the warmth of my Sage's hand.
But I am only a rabbit, and a small and shy one at that.