I'm Really Missing Him

The sad thing about this is it's called 'I HAD a guinea pig' because you don't have your special little gal or guy anymore.

I lost my guinea pig November last year. He was blonde with pink feet and huge, wise black eyes. He used to look at me with those eyes and I'd talk to him; open up about things I wouldn't tell anyone else. I felt a little silly, but I'm sure he listened.

It was horrible the day he died. I used to have two guinea pigs, but since Tony died I only have his friend left. I went outside to check on them one morning, and I saw Tony first, laying in his side and not waking for the world. I rattled the bars of the cage to wake him up so he could get his treat from me but he didn't move. My heart froze over in seconds, and though I suspected he had passed away in the night, I continued to try and wake him. As you probably know, he didn't wake up. I opened the cage door to give his friend (Who seemed completely unaffected) his food, tears streaming down my face. I couldn't bring myself to touch him, afraid that he'd be cold and hard. I wanted my memories of him to be of his alive, warm and snuggly self in my arms.

I ran inside, and shouted something illegible to my dad who was in the living room. He was alerted by my obvious shock and anguish, but he still didn't know what exactly was wrong.

"Tony- Tony!" Was all I could choke out, sobs tearing through my ribs. I lead him outside and I saw the realisation settle on his face.

"Oh, God," He said, and told me to go inside. I wanted to stay and watch over my special litte fella, but my dad refused. I went back inside and my sister, also in the living room at the time, was crying as well.

We were both distraught. We'd had Tony for 5 years, a sizeable chunk of both our lifespans. It was hard to think that he was truly gone. At first I was worried that I'd killed him by accident, by giving him bad food, but both guinea pigs ate the same things, and his friend was, and still is, alive and healthy. I considered that he may have been attacked by rats or mice, as I sometimes caught mice stealing food from their cage, but he looked peaceful, and so that theory went out the window as well.

I knew then, that at five years old, an old man for a guinea pig, my best friend had died of old age. It was devastating. My dad put him in a shoebox and I wanted to bury him in the garden, but my dad was worried that he might be disturbed by the neighbourhood cats. I agreed to have him cremated, and we took him to a pet crematorium the very same day. I hated handing over his body to the man who ran the crematorium, though he was very kind and gentle. I kissed my fingers and pressed them to the shoebox, and we were told to pick him up a few days later.

I went home and checked on my remaining guinea pig. He was completely fine, running about as normal. He didn't seem to miss the friend he'd had all his life. I took him out of his cage and cuddled him a bit even so, more for my benefit than his. I couldn't stop remembering Tony, little quirks and funny tales that I'd collected over our years together. It was too sudden. I couldn't believe that I'd never see my 'Litte old man' as I called him then again.

It's been several months since his passing, and I'm crying as I'm writing this, thinking about his bright, inquisitive gaze and his funny little walk he used to do. It doesn't get any easier, at least it hasn't for me. I've stopped crying as regularly now, but every now and then I'm engulfed by a storm of sadness which tears straight through me, and I remember him and suddenly the waterworks come on. I'm slowly getting used to his absence, but I don't think I'll ever get over it. My other guinea pig named Gaffers, now a middle-aged man at four years old has never shown any signs of grievance. I cuddle him a lot more because I don't want him to be lonely, but he seems fine as a solitary animal.

I don't want to think about what I'll do when Gaffers eventually passes. I won't have anymore guinea pigs after him, that's for certain. He's grown too close to my heart for him to ever be replaced.

I just needed to tell my story, and I hope it helps me to move on, but God sometimes my heart feels so heavy, and I feel guilty even though I know it wasn't my fault. I just miss him so much, and I'd do anything to have him back with me, eating his favourite meal of carrots and snuggling into my stomach just where he liked to be.

SarahCatt SarahCatt
1 Response Jan 10, 2013

Im so sorry for your lost. If you want to talk about it, facebook me @ Guinea Pigz 4ever