Last week we lost our dear little guinea pig, Coco. I went out one morning to find her lying on one side, in the heat of the day. When I picked her up it was immediately apparent she was in a sorry way.
She felt lighter, like she'd lost a whole lot of weight. Considering we always used to call her the chubba, that was very significant. I did my vet thing and got her going with some critical care nursing. Injectable fluids, antibiotics and vitamins were all administered; to no avail. Sadly, Coco hung on for one more day, then quietly passed away while I watched on helplessly.
I guess that's the thing with guinea pigs. They're pretty delicate little critters, and once in a state of decline, it's very hard to pull them back.
Coco was always our most placid pig. Lacking the speed and wiliness of her sister Ivy, she could always be enticed by a tidbit. She was always the pig we would give the little kids to hold as she would sit there patiently on their laps, happily munching on a piece of capsicum.
She came to us pregnant, unknown by us at the time, eventually giving birth to two very large and dead babies. I had to help her pass the second one; if I hadn't found her with the baby stuck in her birth passage early that morning, I think she would have died back then.
We have buried her under the Tree of Love, home to our old cat Poose, who passed away about four years back. She was laid to rest last Saturday morning, with a beautiful letter in an origami boat, made with love by Ruby. We collected fresh flowers to lay on her grave.
So with two very sad little girls, we must continue on and make sure her sister Ivy is happy and well. there have been lots of cuddles and extra treats for this bereft little piggy.
Who, I must say, seems OK on her own.
RIP Coco, much loved family pet.