Helen82
Teenage Guinea Pig
My little man died yesterday and I am heartbroken. I think he was about 6 months old when I got him, along with Primrose and Jess, and I've had him 5 years and 4 months. He was a lot smaller than the girls and had a short body (though eventually he filled out). I only had Jess six weeks so most of the time its been Primrose and Stanley. Primrose let Stanley be the boss which he enjoyed greatly. He spent a lot of time extravagantly rumblestrutting round her and then he would run off squeaking which always sounded like he was laughing because he couldn't believe he was getting away with it. Sometimes he would overstep the mark and get a bit too big for his boots but mostly he was a lovely lad. He also had a 'bubbly' wheek and was quite the little chatterbox though he only communicated to Primrose, not to me. He was always a bit nervous with me: if I put my hand in their cage to give them something Primrose would stay and take it, Stanley would run away first and then come back. He was Primrose's 'boss', Primrose was the go-between from guinea pigs to human. Stanley was the popcorner of the two - mostly after I'd cleaned the cage - leading with his head into a little mid air twist. He was a daft lad and I miss him so much.
I always had Stanley in reserve as a pet name and after considering a few other names, Stanley he became. I also called him Stanley Sausage, Stanley Crackers, Stanley Trousers, Glove Puppet, Little Charlie Bubbles and Little Charlie Herbert. When I first got the guinea pigs I tried singing to them to get them used to me - I don't think they appreciated it really but Stanley always used to listen to 'What Shall We Do With The Drunken Sailor'. I also used to sing the theme tune to an ancient radio comedy programme which I knew of from my Mum called Happidrome: "We three in Happidrome, working for the BBC; Ramsbottom, and Enoch, and me". Primrose was Ramsbottom and Stanley was Enoch, and now they're both gone. Stanley was the first to get a hay poke, something he did with frustrating regularity over the years, and usually at the weekend or Christmas. If ever a guinea pig needed hay goggles it was him. Other than that he was a healthy little boy until the last year he developed a problem with his teeth and needed semi-regular filing. Nail cutting was challenging with his black nails and toes and I nicked him far too often, poor lad. He always used to quietly let me do his nails until this last year when he started getting more awkward and wriggling away and last summer was the one and only time I dropped him, or rather he wriggled free and jumped for freedom, which I still feel awful about. It didn't help his teeth any, though thankfully he didn't hurt anything else, but we had a tottering time with his eating until he could get an appointment for his teeth filing.
Primrose died at the end of October and he was never really the same after that. I feel like I lost him twice; once then and now forever. He was always the happy-go-lucky baby with much older Primrose, but with her gone he suddenly looked and I first realised his age. I wanted to do right by him the last three months but I feel like I've just made a mess of things and now he's gone. He lost his voice when Primrose died. I knew he needed a guinea pig companion but I still haven't really gotten over Primrose and didn't want another female guinea pig. Looking back I think this was my first mistake as that would've been better for Stanley, but instead I got George on 11th of November. At the end of November I tried to bond them but though they both obviously wanted company they were both fear aggressive, George wasn't going to accept anything other than being the boss, Stanley looked like he might accept some loss of power but ultimately not enough and he didn't want to submit; I felt things were escalating and it wasn't going to work. So I divided the cage and they lived as neighbours but Stanley still wouldn't 'talk' to George or show much interest in him and George in frustration started incessantly rattling the grids which has been a bit wearing for both Stanley and me.
Then Stanley got a mild URI in the middle of December and had a course of antibiotics for the first time. It was a real battle syringing his meds and I got really stressed out. I knew they could have an effect on his appetite but we seemed to be getting away with it and I was just focused on getting the antibiotics into him. I was just relieved to have finished the week's course and my second mistake was I was too slow to notice his appetite go and his weight go down. (Partly because I was also attributing this to having had his teeth filed at the same appointment as he got his meds, as his appetite and weight always fluctuated a bit before and after having his teeth done.) So I stepped in with syringe feeding him for 6 days but he really hated it and fought me all the way and I felt whatever energy he was getting from the critical care he expended in fighting taking it. But he started showing an interest in George's rear end which I realised was because he wanted his poos, so because he had started eating a little bit again I made my third mistake. For 5 days I stopped the critical care and gave him as many of George's fresh poos that he wanted and his appetite started to return as he ate soft veg and bits of hay, and Stanley's own poos went back to normal. I should have carried on syringing him aswell or phasing it down instead of cutting it out. But he seemed to be doing okay (and even though it was because he wanted something from him it was nice that Stanley and George had started meeting and touching at the grids) until he took another downturn and didn't want anything. So I went back to syringe feeding him critical care for another 11 days - he took it better this time and he started eating hay normally again, he started eating all the veg from herbs back up to carrots and though his weight was obviously much lower than normal he was holding his weight and not losing anymore.
On the evening of the 11th day he really fought the syringing and as he was eating everything and holding his weight I then made my fourth mistake which was that I stopped the critical care when again I should have phased it out. But for 4 days he seemed fine, was eating hay, was eating veg, was holding his weight, I thought if we can carry on like this with him being stable for a while then I can worry about him getting more weight on again later. I then made probably my 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, however many mistakes. He had gotten pickier about harder veg again but I put this down to his teeth starting to become uneven with everything that had gone on and that he would just need his dental sooner. On Tuesday his weight dropped a bit and I thought oh no more syringing again, I gave him about 10ml which he took okay. I think I also gave him cabbage on Monday or Tuesday which may have caused or exacerbated his problems; I wish I hadn't done this but as he'd had some cabbage a few days prior and had no problems I thought it would be okay. I also kick myself that on Tuesday I thought I heard his stomach gurgle but as I'm trying to sort out my own digestive issues I couldn't tell if it was Stanley or me, and I didn't put 2 and 2 together, but kept thinking the little downturn was because of his teeth. In the evening he only ate half his veg (which I was still thinking might be because of his teeth) and I tried to syringe feed him again but he really battled against it and I thought well you've still been eating hay and veg today, I won't push it now, but tomorrow we'll go back to syringing the full amount of critical care.
On Wednesday I took him out to syringe feed him and he was wet from dribble all down his front. I weighed him and he had lost 100g over night. I tried syringe feeding him but most of it just dribbled out again. I took him to the vet on Wednesday afternoon (still thinking/hoping this would be a problem with his mouth or teeth) and she said it was probably bloat/possibly a twisted gut and gave me various meds, try to feed him, massage him and get him through which I tried to do for 24 hrs but he wasn't really able to swallow anything much. Yesterday afternoon after nothing was going down and he was getting distressingly weak, I rang for an emergency appointment to put him to sleep but he died in the car not long after we had set off. I kick myself that I can see where I went wrong now but even weeks and days ago I couldn't see this. That there are decisions and compromises I've made at various points because money has been tight to non-existent for a long while. That I've not helped things by thinking he would get through this as he's not properly ill, this is just a side effect from the antibiotics. About a week ago he made a couple of little quiet squeaks to George, the only ones he's really made since Primrose died, and only a few days ago he was starting to make happy little rumbles when I brought the veg. I thought we would get throught this and gradually Stanley would adjust and start to to become more like his old self again. I tried to help you Stanley but I rushed you into 'normal' again and probably caused you to bloat and it's my fault you died. I've failed you and I'm so sorry. I love you so much and I just want you back. And now it's just me and George and none of this his fault but I feel awful looking at him and thinking he's an interloper in what was Primrose and Stanley's cage. And how am I going to do right by George and I haven't got a clue.
I buried Stanley this morning in the same pot as his beloved Primrose so they are together again, but I just want them both back so much x
I always had Stanley in reserve as a pet name and after considering a few other names, Stanley he became. I also called him Stanley Sausage, Stanley Crackers, Stanley Trousers, Glove Puppet, Little Charlie Bubbles and Little Charlie Herbert. When I first got the guinea pigs I tried singing to them to get them used to me - I don't think they appreciated it really but Stanley always used to listen to 'What Shall We Do With The Drunken Sailor'. I also used to sing the theme tune to an ancient radio comedy programme which I knew of from my Mum called Happidrome: "We three in Happidrome, working for the BBC; Ramsbottom, and Enoch, and me". Primrose was Ramsbottom and Stanley was Enoch, and now they're both gone. Stanley was the first to get a hay poke, something he did with frustrating regularity over the years, and usually at the weekend or Christmas. If ever a guinea pig needed hay goggles it was him. Other than that he was a healthy little boy until the last year he developed a problem with his teeth and needed semi-regular filing. Nail cutting was challenging with his black nails and toes and I nicked him far too often, poor lad. He always used to quietly let me do his nails until this last year when he started getting more awkward and wriggling away and last summer was the one and only time I dropped him, or rather he wriggled free and jumped for freedom, which I still feel awful about. It didn't help his teeth any, though thankfully he didn't hurt anything else, but we had a tottering time with his eating until he could get an appointment for his teeth filing.
Primrose died at the end of October and he was never really the same after that. I feel like I lost him twice; once then and now forever. He was always the happy-go-lucky baby with much older Primrose, but with her gone he suddenly looked and I first realised his age. I wanted to do right by him the last three months but I feel like I've just made a mess of things and now he's gone. He lost his voice when Primrose died. I knew he needed a guinea pig companion but I still haven't really gotten over Primrose and didn't want another female guinea pig. Looking back I think this was my first mistake as that would've been better for Stanley, but instead I got George on 11th of November. At the end of November I tried to bond them but though they both obviously wanted company they were both fear aggressive, George wasn't going to accept anything other than being the boss, Stanley looked like he might accept some loss of power but ultimately not enough and he didn't want to submit; I felt things were escalating and it wasn't going to work. So I divided the cage and they lived as neighbours but Stanley still wouldn't 'talk' to George or show much interest in him and George in frustration started incessantly rattling the grids which has been a bit wearing for both Stanley and me.
Then Stanley got a mild URI in the middle of December and had a course of antibiotics for the first time. It was a real battle syringing his meds and I got really stressed out. I knew they could have an effect on his appetite but we seemed to be getting away with it and I was just focused on getting the antibiotics into him. I was just relieved to have finished the week's course and my second mistake was I was too slow to notice his appetite go and his weight go down. (Partly because I was also attributing this to having had his teeth filed at the same appointment as he got his meds, as his appetite and weight always fluctuated a bit before and after having his teeth done.) So I stepped in with syringe feeding him for 6 days but he really hated it and fought me all the way and I felt whatever energy he was getting from the critical care he expended in fighting taking it. But he started showing an interest in George's rear end which I realised was because he wanted his poos, so because he had started eating a little bit again I made my third mistake. For 5 days I stopped the critical care and gave him as many of George's fresh poos that he wanted and his appetite started to return as he ate soft veg and bits of hay, and Stanley's own poos went back to normal. I should have carried on syringing him aswell or phasing it down instead of cutting it out. But he seemed to be doing okay (and even though it was because he wanted something from him it was nice that Stanley and George had started meeting and touching at the grids) until he took another downturn and didn't want anything. So I went back to syringe feeding him critical care for another 11 days - he took it better this time and he started eating hay normally again, he started eating all the veg from herbs back up to carrots and though his weight was obviously much lower than normal he was holding his weight and not losing anymore.
On the evening of the 11th day he really fought the syringing and as he was eating everything and holding his weight I then made my fourth mistake which was that I stopped the critical care when again I should have phased it out. But for 4 days he seemed fine, was eating hay, was eating veg, was holding his weight, I thought if we can carry on like this with him being stable for a while then I can worry about him getting more weight on again later. I then made probably my 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, however many mistakes. He had gotten pickier about harder veg again but I put this down to his teeth starting to become uneven with everything that had gone on and that he would just need his dental sooner. On Tuesday his weight dropped a bit and I thought oh no more syringing again, I gave him about 10ml which he took okay. I think I also gave him cabbage on Monday or Tuesday which may have caused or exacerbated his problems; I wish I hadn't done this but as he'd had some cabbage a few days prior and had no problems I thought it would be okay. I also kick myself that on Tuesday I thought I heard his stomach gurgle but as I'm trying to sort out my own digestive issues I couldn't tell if it was Stanley or me, and I didn't put 2 and 2 together, but kept thinking the little downturn was because of his teeth. In the evening he only ate half his veg (which I was still thinking might be because of his teeth) and I tried to syringe feed him again but he really battled against it and I thought well you've still been eating hay and veg today, I won't push it now, but tomorrow we'll go back to syringing the full amount of critical care.
On Wednesday I took him out to syringe feed him and he was wet from dribble all down his front. I weighed him and he had lost 100g over night. I tried syringe feeding him but most of it just dribbled out again. I took him to the vet on Wednesday afternoon (still thinking/hoping this would be a problem with his mouth or teeth) and she said it was probably bloat/possibly a twisted gut and gave me various meds, try to feed him, massage him and get him through which I tried to do for 24 hrs but he wasn't really able to swallow anything much. Yesterday afternoon after nothing was going down and he was getting distressingly weak, I rang for an emergency appointment to put him to sleep but he died in the car not long after we had set off. I kick myself that I can see where I went wrong now but even weeks and days ago I couldn't see this. That there are decisions and compromises I've made at various points because money has been tight to non-existent for a long while. That I've not helped things by thinking he would get through this as he's not properly ill, this is just a side effect from the antibiotics. About a week ago he made a couple of little quiet squeaks to George, the only ones he's really made since Primrose died, and only a few days ago he was starting to make happy little rumbles when I brought the veg. I thought we would get throught this and gradually Stanley would adjust and start to to become more like his old self again. I tried to help you Stanley but I rushed you into 'normal' again and probably caused you to bloat and it's my fault you died. I've failed you and I'm so sorry. I love you so much and I just want you back. And now it's just me and George and none of this his fault but I feel awful looking at him and thinking he's an interloper in what was Primrose and Stanley's cage. And how am I going to do right by George and I haven't got a clue.
I buried Stanley this morning in the same pot as his beloved Primrose so they are together again, but I just want them both back so much x
He sounds like a real character and it’s clear how much you loved him