She wasn't exactly small when we got her in July of 2009 so I have no idea how old she was and had noticed a while back that she was acting different though she was still eating. So there I was squatted down in my dress petting this little dying guinea pig and saying, "I don't know what to do. Should I take her to the vet? What should I do?! I don't know what to do." Although I really didn't believe that there was anything anyone could do.
I was clearly more upset than anyone else. Dracen actually said, "Mom, you could take her to the vet while we're at church." Gee, thanks. I just kept petting her and prayed silently (yes, I prayed over a guinea pig) for God to just please go ahead and take her right then if this was really it for her because I was at a complete loss as to what to do and I can't stand watching anything suffer. I mean, seriously, it tears me up something awful inside. I could feel the tears starting to well up. And just like that, she stopped breathing. I kid you not.
Charlie buried her in a shoebox out back when we got home from church. And now I, of course, feel a little sorry for the remaining guinea pig, Maxie, over the loss of her roommate, although the two of them never did seem all that tight. But these are the kinds of things I concern myself over.
I am not concerned enough to get her another roommate, however. She will be well cared for for as long as she lives but when she goes, no more rodents for us.
The boys somehow managed to talk me into getting those two for their birthdays that summer since the hamster had recently died and I being the sucker that I am gave in, knowing darn well I'd be the one stressing over their care. Did you know that guinea pigs need a constant supply of timothy hay and pellets, a variety of fruits and vegetables and that their cage needs to be cleaned OFTEN?
So there will be no more guinea pigs or other rodents/mammals, amphibians (because they still have two living African dwarf frogs I also tend to), reptiles or fish brought into this house until I believe someone has finally reached a level of maturity and sense of responsibility to keep it alive on his own.
Right after Junebug died that morning and I wrapped her in a towel and took her to the garage to await her burial, Dracen actually stood outside my bathroom door as I tried to wrestle my hair into submission (already going to be late for Sunday School) and began begging me for another pet..."What about a cat? A rabbit? A lizard?" No respect for the dead, I tell you.
I must have looked really mean when I told him "Not No but HELL NO!" (okay, so I didn't really say hell no but my tone implied it) because he hightailed it outta there real quick. I can be scary when I wanna be.
I'm just thankful he didn't ask me for another wiener dog...