PeeWee
New Born Pup
Honestly, I’m sorry for this post being too long with too many details and pictures, but I really need someone to understand the depth of my pain and how special she is. I’m a very isolated person because I put too much time and energy into the things I do. I don’t really have friends because I have trouble keeping up with things that aren’t constantly in my life (I’m not complaining just explaining, I know my choices are mine and only mine).
In 2013, we got two guinea pigs, Millie and Macy. Macy was mine and she passed away after about a week because she was too young to be sold. We got Meeka the next day as a companion for Millie. In my grief, I sort of refused to interact with Meeka. Then we found out Millie was pregnant with two babies when we bought her, and she delivered them in perfect health. With the excitement of the babies, Meeka wasn’t given much attention, and my attitude changed because I realized that if I didn’t love her no one else would. She became my best friend faster than I could ever imagine.
While living with my parents she spent most of her time with me. She would run around freely in my room while I did my homework or just hung out with her. She slept with me on my bed on a towel next to my pillow. She took naps with me on the couch while she was laying on my chest. I didn’t have a great relationship with my family, so when I came home, I came home to her. She came with me while I got my senior pictures taken, and she was the star of a few of them.
In January of 2019, I moved out of my parents house, and our relationship and her personality grew immensely. I kept her as a single piggy, but that decision was based on her behavior after living with only me for a week and then being brought back to her sisters. She did not want to be with them, and tried to climb back into her cat carrier to be taken home. When she got home she purred around her entire cage and popcorned, so I really do believe that she enjoyed her having her own space. I took her over to spend weekends with her sisters so she never went too long without seeing other piggies. I didn’t work at all during that time so I could make sure I provided her with enough interaction, physical contact, and love.
She really blossomed into a beautiful little person. She had a fierce attitude and would let you know exactly how she was feeling. She had spunk. We (her dad and I) would talk to her through her cage and after a while she would chut in response to us. We took her with us on short little walks so she could see and be a part of the outside world. We brought her to our skatepark (we both skate) and she came out of her blanket in my arms to watch what was going on. She was so curious, so unafraid. She got excited in her cage right along with us when we played video games. She loved to rearrange her cage and huts, and she had little stuffed animals she would move or pile up and lay in. She knew when we were taking pictures of her, and she would pose when she wanted or she’d skirt off like “You can’t catch me!” if she wasn’t in the mood. She even recognized herself in mirrors, and she’d look at herself and us through them. She really is such a beautiful little being.
I went through a really rough patch in my life, and this might seem dramatic, but her needing me was what really kept me going. If I wouldn’t have had to abandon her in a place where I knew she wouldn’t be loved as much as she deserved, I may not be here posting this. She was the center of my whole world. She was the center of me.
In November our bills were a bit more than expected so we asked two friends (they are a couple) to move in with us to make it financially easier on all of us. They did not pay us anything they agreed. December 1st came, and they had nothing for rent. I had to ask my parents for help, and use everything from his paycheck to pay as much as we could on the other bills. Since we were completely broke and had to worry about catching up, I got a 3rd shift job and asked my parents to keep her until we could make it out of debt. We couldn’t afford to keep her with us. We couldn’t afford the $15 it costed to get her food every week. We were really struggling and actually still are. Her last day living with us was December 7th. Through December I went and saw her a lot, but January 1st my auto insurance ran out so I couldn’t drive the 15 minutes to my parents house to see her anymore. Well, I could have, but because I have an SR22 my license is suspended until I get insurance again, so I would’ve been driving doubly illegally and may have gone to jail if I got pulled over. I was so overwhelmed with life that I know I didn’t see her as much as she probably wanted, and it kills me.
On Friday, February 7, 2020, her dad and I got into a pretty bad fight after I got off work at 6 in the morning. Thinking my parents would be at work, I decided to walk the 4.9 miles to go see her because I missed her. I made it there in a little over an hour. When I got there, my mom was still home because of a two hour delay, which was a blessing. I went to pick my baby up, and there was a mass about the size of a grape tomato hanging off of her backside, but she was moving like she was not in distress or pain. At first we thought it was fecal matter, like she was impacted and had passed it. We gently ran the mass under lukewarm water and discovered it was tissue and her rectum had prolapsed. Again, during the entire time she gave no sign of discomfort or pain.
We took her to the nearest vet that saw small animals, and I held her in my arms while they told me they recommended euthanasia. She took the first anesthesia shot like a champ, didn’t move or make a sound. She seemed to feel better after it and moved around in the blanket I was holding her in. She even let her dad take pictures of her (which was not the case most of the time!) She gave her dad a kiss after playing hard to get, just like normal, and then she turned around, reached up, and kissed me on the mouth for a long time. Then something happened (I think she had to poo or tried to) and she made this heartbreaking sound in pain. I yelled for the vet to give her another anesthesia shot so she wouldn’t be in pain, but it killed me to know I was shortening my time with her. The second shot hurt her, and I can’t be sure it wasn’t because I was crying so hard that the needle moved or scratched her. I was also really afraid that whatever had hurt her before the shot was getting worse and causing her distress, so I closed my eyes, put my face on her head, and sang to her softly in her ear and told her to go to sleep. She started to fall asleep in my arms and I tried to calm down so that I wouldn’t freak her out or she wouldn’t feel any kind of sadness. When she was all the way asleep, her eyes were open. It killed me to think she didn’t feel safe and secure because it was more normal for her to sleep with her eyes closed than open. Sometimes she would sleep with them open while out on the couch, but when I held her in my arms or on my lap they were always closed. The vet rolled her on her side in my arms and I could feel her heartbeat on my chest. I counted the beats while the vet was giving her the euthanasia shot in her heart, then it just stopped. My baby is gone and I didn’t get to spend even the normal amount of time I wanted to spend with her before she died. I never imagined her not being here. She was a part of me. I was a part of her. And now she’s gone, just like that.
Now that I’m not in the office, waiting to know if that was my last time with her, I realize the vet never even told me what was wrong. She was 6 years old, and surgery would have been incredibly risky. The mass would have had to be removed, and I don’t know what the honest chances of her recovering would have been, but I never even took the time to make sure there was no other way. I know I would never be able to forgive myself if she passed surrounded by strangers, being poked and prodded, and not understanding what was going on, so I am definitely glad she didn’t pass anywhere but in my arms, pressed against my face, but what if she could’ve made it out? What if it wasn’t cancer or a tumor or a cyst? We never even found out what it was! They took one look and said put her down, and I did. I wanted her not to suffer but what if she wasn’t done living?
There are so many questions haunting me now. It kills me to wonder if she gave up fighting because she felt alone without me. I know she wasn’t alone, but we had a bond that her and the other guinea pigs just didn’t have. What if she was willing to fight when I came to see her but I took that choice away and had her put down? I wish I could’ve at least made sure she knew how much I loved her leading up to this. Because we were apart, I don’t know if she thought that I had abandoned her or if she knew that I didn’t want her to be away. It kills me to think she could’ve known she was dying and wondered where I was or wanted me there for her.
What hurts me the most, though, is that for the first second when I see her empty cage, nothing seems wrong. It seems like she’s still at my parents house, waiting for me to bring her back home.
How do I fill the hole? I don’t want to fill it with anything but her. I just want my baby back.
The first picture is the last one I took, right before she fell asleep after the second anesthesia shot. The second one is after the first anesthesia shot, when she was feeling better and let her dad take the picture. The others are just because I want someone else to see how special she is.
In 2013, we got two guinea pigs, Millie and Macy. Macy was mine and she passed away after about a week because she was too young to be sold. We got Meeka the next day as a companion for Millie. In my grief, I sort of refused to interact with Meeka. Then we found out Millie was pregnant with two babies when we bought her, and she delivered them in perfect health. With the excitement of the babies, Meeka wasn’t given much attention, and my attitude changed because I realized that if I didn’t love her no one else would. She became my best friend faster than I could ever imagine.
While living with my parents she spent most of her time with me. She would run around freely in my room while I did my homework or just hung out with her. She slept with me on my bed on a towel next to my pillow. She took naps with me on the couch while she was laying on my chest. I didn’t have a great relationship with my family, so when I came home, I came home to her. She came with me while I got my senior pictures taken, and she was the star of a few of them.
In January of 2019, I moved out of my parents house, and our relationship and her personality grew immensely. I kept her as a single piggy, but that decision was based on her behavior after living with only me for a week and then being brought back to her sisters. She did not want to be with them, and tried to climb back into her cat carrier to be taken home. When she got home she purred around her entire cage and popcorned, so I really do believe that she enjoyed her having her own space. I took her over to spend weekends with her sisters so she never went too long without seeing other piggies. I didn’t work at all during that time so I could make sure I provided her with enough interaction, physical contact, and love.
She really blossomed into a beautiful little person. She had a fierce attitude and would let you know exactly how she was feeling. She had spunk. We (her dad and I) would talk to her through her cage and after a while she would chut in response to us. We took her with us on short little walks so she could see and be a part of the outside world. We brought her to our skatepark (we both skate) and she came out of her blanket in my arms to watch what was going on. She was so curious, so unafraid. She got excited in her cage right along with us when we played video games. She loved to rearrange her cage and huts, and she had little stuffed animals she would move or pile up and lay in. She knew when we were taking pictures of her, and she would pose when she wanted or she’d skirt off like “You can’t catch me!” if she wasn’t in the mood. She even recognized herself in mirrors, and she’d look at herself and us through them. She really is such a beautiful little being.
I went through a really rough patch in my life, and this might seem dramatic, but her needing me was what really kept me going. If I wouldn’t have had to abandon her in a place where I knew she wouldn’t be loved as much as she deserved, I may not be here posting this. She was the center of my whole world. She was the center of me.
In November our bills were a bit more than expected so we asked two friends (they are a couple) to move in with us to make it financially easier on all of us. They did not pay us anything they agreed. December 1st came, and they had nothing for rent. I had to ask my parents for help, and use everything from his paycheck to pay as much as we could on the other bills. Since we were completely broke and had to worry about catching up, I got a 3rd shift job and asked my parents to keep her until we could make it out of debt. We couldn’t afford to keep her with us. We couldn’t afford the $15 it costed to get her food every week. We were really struggling and actually still are. Her last day living with us was December 7th. Through December I went and saw her a lot, but January 1st my auto insurance ran out so I couldn’t drive the 15 minutes to my parents house to see her anymore. Well, I could have, but because I have an SR22 my license is suspended until I get insurance again, so I would’ve been driving doubly illegally and may have gone to jail if I got pulled over. I was so overwhelmed with life that I know I didn’t see her as much as she probably wanted, and it kills me.
On Friday, February 7, 2020, her dad and I got into a pretty bad fight after I got off work at 6 in the morning. Thinking my parents would be at work, I decided to walk the 4.9 miles to go see her because I missed her. I made it there in a little over an hour. When I got there, my mom was still home because of a two hour delay, which was a blessing. I went to pick my baby up, and there was a mass about the size of a grape tomato hanging off of her backside, but she was moving like she was not in distress or pain. At first we thought it was fecal matter, like she was impacted and had passed it. We gently ran the mass under lukewarm water and discovered it was tissue and her rectum had prolapsed. Again, during the entire time she gave no sign of discomfort or pain.
We took her to the nearest vet that saw small animals, and I held her in my arms while they told me they recommended euthanasia. She took the first anesthesia shot like a champ, didn’t move or make a sound. She seemed to feel better after it and moved around in the blanket I was holding her in. She even let her dad take pictures of her (which was not the case most of the time!) She gave her dad a kiss after playing hard to get, just like normal, and then she turned around, reached up, and kissed me on the mouth for a long time. Then something happened (I think she had to poo or tried to) and she made this heartbreaking sound in pain. I yelled for the vet to give her another anesthesia shot so she wouldn’t be in pain, but it killed me to know I was shortening my time with her. The second shot hurt her, and I can’t be sure it wasn’t because I was crying so hard that the needle moved or scratched her. I was also really afraid that whatever had hurt her before the shot was getting worse and causing her distress, so I closed my eyes, put my face on her head, and sang to her softly in her ear and told her to go to sleep. She started to fall asleep in my arms and I tried to calm down so that I wouldn’t freak her out or she wouldn’t feel any kind of sadness. When she was all the way asleep, her eyes were open. It killed me to think she didn’t feel safe and secure because it was more normal for her to sleep with her eyes closed than open. Sometimes she would sleep with them open while out on the couch, but when I held her in my arms or on my lap they were always closed. The vet rolled her on her side in my arms and I could feel her heartbeat on my chest. I counted the beats while the vet was giving her the euthanasia shot in her heart, then it just stopped. My baby is gone and I didn’t get to spend even the normal amount of time I wanted to spend with her before she died. I never imagined her not being here. She was a part of me. I was a part of her. And now she’s gone, just like that.
Now that I’m not in the office, waiting to know if that was my last time with her, I realize the vet never even told me what was wrong. She was 6 years old, and surgery would have been incredibly risky. The mass would have had to be removed, and I don’t know what the honest chances of her recovering would have been, but I never even took the time to make sure there was no other way. I know I would never be able to forgive myself if she passed surrounded by strangers, being poked and prodded, and not understanding what was going on, so I am definitely glad she didn’t pass anywhere but in my arms, pressed against my face, but what if she could’ve made it out? What if it wasn’t cancer or a tumor or a cyst? We never even found out what it was! They took one look and said put her down, and I did. I wanted her not to suffer but what if she wasn’t done living?
There are so many questions haunting me now. It kills me to wonder if she gave up fighting because she felt alone without me. I know she wasn’t alone, but we had a bond that her and the other guinea pigs just didn’t have. What if she was willing to fight when I came to see her but I took that choice away and had her put down? I wish I could’ve at least made sure she knew how much I loved her leading up to this. Because we were apart, I don’t know if she thought that I had abandoned her or if she knew that I didn’t want her to be away. It kills me to think she could’ve known she was dying and wondered where I was or wanted me there for her.
What hurts me the most, though, is that for the first second when I see her empty cage, nothing seems wrong. It seems like she’s still at my parents house, waiting for me to bring her back home.
How do I fill the hole? I don’t want to fill it with anything but her. I just want my baby back.
The first picture is the last one I took, right before she fell asleep after the second anesthesia shot. The second one is after the first anesthesia shot, when she was feeling better and let her dad take the picture. The others are just because I want someone else to see how special she is.
