The devastating goodbye letter to a rescued bear who died too soon

10 February 2017

She gave her all but Shanti died before carer Kelly could watch this former bile farm bear step out into the sun.

Rescued from Vietnam’s Halong Bay in June 2015, it was immediately clear that moon bear Shanti had suffered horribly.

Over 18 months her carers worked tirelessly to earn her trust and encourage her to embrace life again, but ultimately they could not give Shanti back what had been taken from her and she was never mentally ready to experience the daunting vastness of the outdoors.

In January 2017, Shanti starting suffering from paralysis and spasming of her hind legs. She refused to eat, leaving her carers little choice but to humanely end her suffering. She was buried at Animals Asia’s Vietnam Bear Rescue Centre.

V130 Shanti at VBRC

Bear Manager Kelly Donithan, was hit hard at her loss. Her heart-wrenching letter, describing her relationship with Shanti and feelings of loss at her passing deserves a wider audience.

Her letter to Shanti includes:

“As I sat by her grave this morning, I begged her forgiveness for myself for not hearing better what she needed and wanted. I poured out apologies for the cruelty my species subjected her to that created such challenges in her life, even after her rescue despite being loved so dearly. I closed my eyes and pictured her outside in the grass, something I've been picturing for months, but now know I'll never see in person.”

And finishes:

“Rest easy Shanti Girl. May your new world be pain-free, full of sunshine and banana flowers. Thank you for the time you gave us. I'll love you always.”

You can read the letter in full here:

“When I received the message last week that something was wrong with Shanti, my heart sank. I've been worried, confused, bemused, frustrated and absolutely in love with this bear every day for the last year and a half.

“First, it was gaining her trust and earning a relationship with her. Nothing was easy for Shanti and achievements came in small packages. Achievements such as the first time I was able to give her a spoonful of condensed milk on a normal sized spoon versus the retractable invention needed to reach her for the weeks when she refused to leave the back of the den.

“Slowly, Shanti improved and we developed a friendship that was expressed in subtle winks, strawberry jam, and sighs of relaxation.

“Then there was her appetite. Shanti wouldn't eat any ‘normal’ bear food. She was utterly repulsed by apple and made sure I was well aware of her distaste with loud huffs of discontent.

“I racked my brain to find flavours and consistencies she would accept. Baby food, rice cereals, cooked vegetables, minced fruits, soaked dog chow, blended together, separated in piles, seasoned with chocolate syrup or yogurt, squished with jam. But any diet accepted didn't last more than a few days or weeks before an abrupt refusal from Shanti.

“With the rest of the vet team, we looked for physical medical reasons for this unusual lack of appetite. There were periods of waiting and observation to avoid constantly making too many changes to Shanti's life, but always lurking in the background was a consistent humming of ‘why?’ and ‘what to do next?’

“While Shanti had increased her confidence in den life and responded far better to her human caregivers, she was still a bear that required more gentle requests, more time to proceed in routine, and more patience to build trust.

“We began to consider that perhaps her chronic anxiety was playing a role in her unstable and confounding appetite. After much discussion, it was decided to trial Shanti on anti-depressants to hopefully address any mental health complications to her well-being.

“Initially, this appeared to be a step in the right direction. Her appetite increased and for the first time, we were able to get her to eat all the staples of a bear diet, albeit in slightly creative forms. Her activity seemed to elevate and working with her in the bear house became a smoother process. I had learned to temper my expectations with Shanti, and while I was pleased to see her doing better, I (and the rest of the team) kept a close eye for any signs of old habits. Sadly, they came in skipped meals, less consumption, and ultimately a renewed refusal to eat.

“As I sat by her grave this morning, I begged her forgiveness for myself for not hearing better what she needed and wanted. I poured out apologies for the cruelty my species subjected her to that created such challenges in her life, even after her rescue despite being loved so dearly. I closed my eyes and pictured her outside in the grass, something I've been picturing for months, but now know I'll never see in person.

“As a bear manager, Shanti taught me incredible patience, determination, and above all, to never discount the importance of individuality. Shanti was as special and unique as they come. Her challenges, triumphs, joys, fears, and of course tastes were unlike any other.

“Personally, working with Shanti through her trials gave me the courage to face some of my own demons and fight for healing that I've too long buried away. I can't possibly think I gave her back as much as she's given me. Yet, I'm also relieved her suffering has ended, and I'll hold tight to the moments of seeing her roll playfully on her back in a basket while fumbling with browse in her big paws with snow white claws.

“Rest easy Shanti Girl. May your new world be pain-free, full of sunshine and banana flowers, and never again should the scent of apple float past your nose. Thank you for the time you gave us. I'll love you always.”


BACK