guinea pigs

Everything Passes With Time

It is a sad day in the Moore family. Unexpectedly, one of our guinea pigs, mine to be more specific, has passed away. It was the last of the “original four” guinea pigs we have had.

His name was Cheech. He was a skittish Abyssinian guinea pig that loved carrots and his building block hideout.

It’s a funny story how Cheech (and his brother) came into our house. My sisters had gotten an exciting gift of guinea pigs, probably around their eighth birthday. Since they are twins, that means double the pig and double the fun!

Their names were Chilli and Cha-Chi. I’m not sure where those names came about, but I had the feeling my parents were part of the persuasion.

Of course, pet store employees don’t have credentials, and it turns out Chilli was a boy, and Cha-Chi a girl. And we all know what happens when you mix a boy and a girl together. Clearly, there is no sex-ed for rodents.

Some time later, Cha-Chi gave birth to two adorable baby guinea pigs (both male, we checked). My brother and I were delighted because now we both could have our very own guinea pigs. So as you already know, Cheech was mine, and my brother named his Ozzy (again, do you think there was parental persuasion?).

We had some great times growing up with our guinea pigs. They were one happy, rolly-polly and fuzzy family. They loved to eat grass in the sun, and they weeped around in our hallway as they playfully chased each other. We called this “The Running of the Pigs.”

After the other three died, Cheech remained. He had some other friends of course, what, you thought we wouldn’t get more pigs? Although, the original four is where it all started.

As we get older, I think we fail to neglect childhood memories, which sometimes may be pets. As a child, having a small pet like a hamster or a fish is the greatest thing in the world. As we get older, we tend to lose the excitement we once felt. Although it is never truly lost, just dormant. Those memories are still there, and so is that excitement. The memories come out of dormancy once we realize that they are gone. Then all we want is to go back in time.

Of course, just because I was older and my priorities changed, my guinea pig was not left in the basement to starve. My mother took great care of all of our guinea pigs because she loved them, probably more than we loved them.

All my siblings, and I, have our memories now. The memories are more than just the pet, it is everything else that came with the pet. It’s having to go and clean them out on a hot summer’s day and making an event out of it. It’s cutting up vegetables in the kitchen for the guinea pigs to enjoy. It’s begging our mom to let us do the “Running of the Pigs,” and video taping our laughter. It’s carefully watching the mama guinea pig give birth, trying our hardest not to make a sound.

It’s our childhood, my childhood. It is the knowing that time has passed, and it is time that we will never get back. I just wish I had realized how important those memories are, because maybe I would have cherished them a little harder.

Rest easy, Cheech.

 

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Taking Pets to the Vet is the Least Bit Purr-fect

As I countdown the minutes until I take our seven month old cat to the vet, I realize how important pets are to me.  I’ve always had fish growing up, but they don’t qualify as a pet.  We upgraded to hamsters, which are pretty fun, but they get too crazy and won’t sit still for more than a minute.  Then, we got two guinea pigs and unfortunatley (but fortunate for the kids) the one had babies.  We then had a happy family of four guinea pigs, until years later the father passed away.  We all were devastated.  He acted so much like a baby.  We could cradle him and feed him carrots, and my sister taught him how to beg.  We still have four guinea pigs, but the parents have since died.

What my family really needed was a pet that could actually be a pet.  One that could roam around the house, sleep in our beds, and relax with us on the couch.  That is when my sisters got a kitten for Christmas.  We named her Florence, after our all-time favorite musical artist, Florence and the Machine.

Since I am home at odd times because of college, I became pretty close with Florence.  As I would get ready for school she would sit on my bed or play in my room.  She is our first real pet, and we love her so!

My love for cats (obsession?) made me want to get my own kitten, and that allows me to introduce Zooey (not Zoh-ee, Zoo-ee).  I have realized that I look at our pets as part of the family, and I hold them very close to my heart.  This post may be solely for my benefit, I feel the need to keep myself occupied as I wait to take her.  We are unsure as to what is wrong with her, but she has not been acting well.  Wish her some luck, fellow cat lovers.