Chester the Pig
Chester, my one remaining guinea pig, had a tooth extraction on Thursday. His tooth had started growing in crookedly, so it, and the matching lower tooth, had to be pulled. On Friday morning, he was recovering well, but on Friday night he seemed a little lethargic, and when I woke up on Saturday morning he was dead. Recently dead--still soft and floppy, and not yet cold. Within half an hour, though, he began to get cold and stiff.
The weird thing is that I saw it coming. On Friday morning, when I got up, he was wheezing or groaning, making little grunting noises at every breath. But of course he was in pain--I remembered my own wisdom tooth extraction--so I gave him some pain medication and that seemed to help. On Friday night, when he wasn't as active, I had a sudden suspicion that this might be the last time I'd hold him. And on Saturday morning, I woke up and realized it was too quiet--there was no wheezing. Maybe I even heard it stop, subconsciously. So I got up early, just to look into his cage, and found that my intuition was entirely right.
So, that's the end of an era. I had guinea pigs for the past six years. I'd gotten Louis because I finally convinced Kate that they were cute, and then she wanted one. Then we got Chester and Milo for Louis's companionship (not that that worked out well). But Kate became allergic to the pigs (she'd develop a rash 15 minutes after holding one), so they pretty much became my pigs, and when she went to Europe, they stayed with me.
I have to admit that a lot of things will be easier now. I can go on weekend hang-gliding trips without having to find someone to take care of pigs. I can go on vacation without worrying, either. (Ryan, Chung-Hay, Todd, and Cheryl will all appreciate that--they're the ones who were stuck as pig-sitters.) But it's a little weird, now, to get out of the shower and not have Chester wheeking for veggies, or to eat a banana and not have a cage full of excited little animals next to my computer.
The weird thing is that I saw it coming. On Friday morning, when I got up, he was wheezing or groaning, making little grunting noises at every breath. But of course he was in pain--I remembered my own wisdom tooth extraction--so I gave him some pain medication and that seemed to help. On Friday night, when he wasn't as active, I had a sudden suspicion that this might be the last time I'd hold him. And on Saturday morning, I woke up and realized it was too quiet--there was no wheezing. Maybe I even heard it stop, subconsciously. So I got up early, just to look into his cage, and found that my intuition was entirely right.
So, that's the end of an era. I had guinea pigs for the past six years. I'd gotten Louis because I finally convinced Kate that they were cute, and then she wanted one. Then we got Chester and Milo for Louis's companionship (not that that worked out well). But Kate became allergic to the pigs (she'd develop a rash 15 minutes after holding one), so they pretty much became my pigs, and when she went to Europe, they stayed with me.
I have to admit that a lot of things will be easier now. I can go on weekend hang-gliding trips without having to find someone to take care of pigs. I can go on vacation without worrying, either. (Ryan, Chung-Hay, Todd, and Cheryl will all appreciate that--they're the ones who were stuck as pig-sitters.) But it's a little weird, now, to get out of the shower and not have Chester wheeking for veggies, or to eat a banana and not have a cage full of excited little animals next to my computer.