Hutch Fever
The other day, since my health was improving, I filled the rabbit hutch with bedding, fitted a plastic window to the door grille to keep the rain out, and released five of our guinea pigs into it. The hutch is a large El Cheapo rabbit hutch I bought from Aldi; last year I added cavity insulation, an interior compartment with a second floor, and an exit-hole so that the guinea pigs could wander out into the garden whenever they liked. The pigs have spent the winter living inside the house, and now that it's spring, I've been feeling guilty about their lack of green grass and sunshine. So I turfed them out. Colin and Clive stayed in the house because they don't get on with the other five, and I need to build a separate hutch for them.
I was all nail-bitey during their first night outside. As soon as it was light, I went out to feed them. It had rained all night, but warm air poured out of the hutch when I opened it, and sleepy chirps emanated from the bedrooms. I felt reassured. The rain continued the next day and the next and the next, and the guinea pigs didn't venture from the hutch at all. Whenever I took food out to them, they made little noises, but not the loud chorus of chirps they normally make at feeding time, and they were increasingly skittish. This morning at dawn, there was no sound at all when I called them, so I put their food in the hutch and left them to doze. In the afternoon, I took some carrots out to them. There were two sprays of blood up the interior wall--and only four pigs in the hutch. I found the fifth one, Doctor Orkney, standing miserably on the cold paving underneath the hutch. I examined them all for injuries, and found that Doctor Orkney and Barry had several very nasty bite marks on their rumps and ears. I felt terrible. They had been stuck in that little dark hutch for four days, getting cabin fever, and now they had had a big fight. It must have been really traumatic for them.
I carried Barry and Orkney straight back indoors and let them run around the living room for a while to warm up and relax. Then I brought all of the other guinea pigs back in. The five from the hutch went into the pen that takes up most of the living room. They all seemed very stressed and disorientated.
I held Barry and Orkney in my lap and put ointment on their cuts. All their tameness had gone, and they were worried and scared. Clive, who was furious at the return of the other pigs, was making things worse by galloping up and down the living room, swearing loudly at them all, chewing at the fence, and rumblestrutting. I finally calmed everyone down with a generous scoop of muesli, and now they're settling back into their old territory. Bunty has gathered a couple of cages from the garage, in case we need to separate some of them, but so far things seem to be getting better. Just now, Bunty crackled a bag in the kitchen, and all the guinea pigs started enthusiastically chirping. Sounds like they're getting back to their old selves.
I was all nail-bitey during their first night outside. As soon as it was light, I went out to feed them. It had rained all night, but warm air poured out of the hutch when I opened it, and sleepy chirps emanated from the bedrooms. I felt reassured. The rain continued the next day and the next and the next, and the guinea pigs didn't venture from the hutch at all. Whenever I took food out to them, they made little noises, but not the loud chorus of chirps they normally make at feeding time, and they were increasingly skittish. This morning at dawn, there was no sound at all when I called them, so I put their food in the hutch and left them to doze. In the afternoon, I took some carrots out to them. There were two sprays of blood up the interior wall--and only four pigs in the hutch. I found the fifth one, Doctor Orkney, standing miserably on the cold paving underneath the hutch. I examined them all for injuries, and found that Doctor Orkney and Barry had several very nasty bite marks on their rumps and ears. I felt terrible. They had been stuck in that little dark hutch for four days, getting cabin fever, and now they had had a big fight. It must have been really traumatic for them.
I carried Barry and Orkney straight back indoors and let them run around the living room for a while to warm up and relax. Then I brought all of the other guinea pigs back in. The five from the hutch went into the pen that takes up most of the living room. They all seemed very stressed and disorientated.
I held Barry and Orkney in my lap and put ointment on their cuts. All their tameness had gone, and they were worried and scared. Clive, who was furious at the return of the other pigs, was making things worse by galloping up and down the living room, swearing loudly at them all, chewing at the fence, and rumblestrutting. I finally calmed everyone down with a generous scoop of muesli, and now they're settling back into their old territory. Bunty has gathered a couple of cages from the garage, in case we need to separate some of them, but so far things seem to be getting better. Just now, Bunty crackled a bag in the kitchen, and all the guinea pigs started enthusiastically chirping. Sounds like they're getting back to their old selves.