So, as most everyone who knows me is aware of, my last guinea pig Charley died about two weeks ago. Let me tell you, this month has been a blur. I am coming out of a weird period of my life, that is for sure. The guinea pigs were quite like people to me - I actually viewed them as little people with personalities and quirks and interests. Even if they were more of the simple variety - like lettuce, chin rubs, and occasional trips outside the apartment. My biggest worry is people thinking, "Well, they were only guinea pigs." But none of them were - they were friends and family, too - and Charley was especially special. She was my little joy. I am not thinking of her as much, but it still sucks to see her blanket and stuffed toys and realize this little bundle of love is gone.
Charley was one of the most affectionate guinea pigs I've ever had in my lifetime of taking care of these animals, which started back when I was in grade school. And she wasn't so much like a rodent but actually like a puppy. There were times that I came home and played with her like you would a little pup. We tousled, she jumped on me and squeaked. She was a much needed light in my darkness (and there's been a lot of that lately, let me assure you.)
I woke up one morning and she was dead. Solid, heavy body that I loved so much. No life left in her. I thought maybe she was sleeping but her stiffness gave it away. I screamed; I just screamed. Called my Mom even though it was 5 Am, and when she wouldn't answer, I kept calling again and again until she did. I huddled Charley's body in several old t-shirts. She literally felt like my baby; I had fed her with my own hands, made her a guinea pig crib, and drank coffee with her every morning. She was really all I looked forward to about going home - she always greeted me, bouncing around, like "MOM GUESS WHAT I DID TODAY."
My apartment felt very empty and very unfriendly for a while.
I wanted to write something about how the death of Charley inspired me to love harder, hug people a bit tighter, and be more in the moment, and while it has, it also feels like frou-frou Hallmark bullshit that I don't wish to shove down your throat. Yes, it really hurt me, like a lot has, but pain inspires growth, so there's a duality present. Maybe Charley died to cause this spark in me, I don't know. I like to think things "happen for a reason," but I also realize that trying to ascertain what the reason is can cause more duress than it's worth.
Daisy is my remaining guinea pig. She was given to me by someone who could no longer care for her pigs. At first, I didn't really like Daisy. She was cute, but she bullied Charley. I'd walk over and pull a crying baby guinea pig out of the cage. I kept them separate most of the time, because I didn't trust Daisy not to hurt her (she was so much bigger, too).
I was all set to rehome Daisy myself when Charley died, so I decided to keep Daisy. She had her moments with me, so I figured she couldn't be all that bad. And sure enough, Daisy has warmed up to me a lot the past few weeks. She barely ever wheeks, but she did so when I was cleaning my kitchen this morning, and that sound - while a little hoarse at times - warmed my heart. I realized I need Daisy than I think she ever needed me. She's a good pig who just needed more love and attention than I was previously giving her.
In the coming year, I plan on getting two more guinea pigs, but not until I move from this apartment. I am planning on naming one Parsley as a tribute to both Charley and PBC.
With love,
Britt
Charley was one of the most affectionate guinea pigs I've ever had in my lifetime of taking care of these animals, which started back when I was in grade school. And she wasn't so much like a rodent but actually like a puppy. There were times that I came home and played with her like you would a little pup. We tousled, she jumped on me and squeaked. She was a much needed light in my darkness (and there's been a lot of that lately, let me assure you.)
I woke up one morning and she was dead. Solid, heavy body that I loved so much. No life left in her. I thought maybe she was sleeping but her stiffness gave it away. I screamed; I just screamed. Called my Mom even though it was 5 Am, and when she wouldn't answer, I kept calling again and again until she did. I huddled Charley's body in several old t-shirts. She literally felt like my baby; I had fed her with my own hands, made her a guinea pig crib, and drank coffee with her every morning. She was really all I looked forward to about going home - she always greeted me, bouncing around, like "MOM GUESS WHAT I DID TODAY."
My apartment felt very empty and very unfriendly for a while.
I wanted to write something about how the death of Charley inspired me to love harder, hug people a bit tighter, and be more in the moment, and while it has, it also feels like frou-frou Hallmark bullshit that I don't wish to shove down your throat. Yes, it really hurt me, like a lot has, but pain inspires growth, so there's a duality present. Maybe Charley died to cause this spark in me, I don't know. I like to think things "happen for a reason," but I also realize that trying to ascertain what the reason is can cause more duress than it's worth.
Daisy is my remaining guinea pig. She was given to me by someone who could no longer care for her pigs. At first, I didn't really like Daisy. She was cute, but she bullied Charley. I'd walk over and pull a crying baby guinea pig out of the cage. I kept them separate most of the time, because I didn't trust Daisy not to hurt her (she was so much bigger, too).
I was all set to rehome Daisy myself when Charley died, so I decided to keep Daisy. She had her moments with me, so I figured she couldn't be all that bad. And sure enough, Daisy has warmed up to me a lot the past few weeks. She barely ever wheeks, but she did so when I was cleaning my kitchen this morning, and that sound - while a little hoarse at times - warmed my heart. I realized I need Daisy than I think she ever needed me. She's a good pig who just needed more love and attention than I was previously giving her.
In the coming year, I plan on getting two more guinea pigs, but not until I move from this apartment. I am planning on naming one Parsley as a tribute to both Charley and PBC.
With love,
Britt
Comments
Post a Comment