Pigs Not For Kids: True Story

[Guinea_Piggin]

That brought tears to my eyes. =(

I learned the hard way with my first hamster at the age of 11...she only lived to see 1 year.

[Getting.cavys]

Oh my gosh, i cryed my heart out reading this story. It reminded me of my hamster, Biscuit. Who died when i was 14. I loved her very much, we loved eachother.

I remember when she grew quite and started pulling further away from me. she had a cold! I took her to the vet the next day, and they said the medicine may not work. So i gave her the medicine, i got my hopes up convinced she was better. But a few days later i heard her weezing, i was so worried about her, and i was going on holiday the nexy day. My mum said she would look after her an dshe did very well, she put biscuit by her bedside at night, to watch over her. But sadly when i got home a week later i arrived to her empty hamster cage on the table, and went into deep uncontrolable hurting tears.

I was so badly wishing i were there with her. To witness her last ever breath. Your very lucky you were there to comfort her.

You were so brave. Dont feel quity, you were there until the end. Be proud of yourself for giving him those happy years. Everyone makes mistakes.

Thanks for sharing.

Getting.cavys

[pennydaisy]

My little brother is XX and I'm XX. I don't trust him too muchwith my piggies...if we had enough room they'd have a lot bigger cage. But aside from that, they're healthy and I'm probably going to try my hand at potty training so I only have to scoop out the litterbox, not their whole home.
I'm basically a kid, and I'd never let the pigs on a treated lawn...I know better than that.

[CRAZY4guineapig]

That is such a touching story. You should write more.

[maddie]

It is sad. Im a preteen and im doing just fine. Now for kids who are not machure enough is a different story. Im just a kid and a great cavy owner and I realy felt critticised. Not everyone makes the same mistakes. I dont know if ower grass has been fertilised so i wont even take them out side.

best of wishes,
maddie

[maddie]

It is sad. Im a preteen and im doing just fine. Now for kids who are not machure enough is a different story. Im just a kid and a great cavy owner and I realy felt critticised. Not everyone makes the same mistakes. I dont know if ower grass has been fertilised so i wont even take them out side.

best of wishes,
maddie

[Neocavyowner]

Thank you. That brought a tear to my eye. I agree with an ealier post. You should take up writing. You have a real tallent. I will not let my young child have a pet like that.

[PotBellyPiggy]

Originally Posted by CavyLove

My first pet was a guinea pig. I was only seven years old, and my entire obsession and everything I've done for rescue pigs in my area all happened because of a single field mouse, that by now, is long gone. It's rather amazing when one thinks about how nearly half of their life originated from something so small and helpless. But mine did. And to this day, I remain completely amazed.

I was seven when my sister's cat Sampson came into the house with company one summer afternoon. Seven years old. I still made mud pies. Pretended to be an animal rescuer. Yelled at the boys on my block who tortured the poor stray cats, teased defenseless toads, or tried to hog-tie a neighbor's dogs. Even doing that, I was alone. But standing alone never witheld me from standing for what's right. I used to wish I had a giant attack dog that would chase the boys in circles around the block a few times, never hurting them of course, but definitely giving them a scare so that the stray cat could live it's stray life in peace. But only my sister was "old enough to have a pet".

In sampson's case, I couldn't scold him for forcing his guest to join us for lunch. It was only his instinct. So I simply pried open his mouth, and a little field mouse, no bigger than a shooter marble, jumped into my hand. I shoo'd the cat back outside and cupped my hands until I could find an open container.

I placed him in a square tuppaware dish, and sat down to evaluate him. Even at seven years old, the kids on my block brought all their injured "patients" to me to be diagnosed. I knew more about animals than most of the adults on my block. Mostly rodents, cats, and dogs.

From what I could tell, the mouse was hardly injured. Only shaken up, breathing quite heavily, and "seasoned" with Sampson's saliva. I took a paper towel and gently patted him dry. He let me. When my mother came in and found my new patient, she told me I'd have to let him go as long as he was okay. I didn't want to. The one thing I didn't like to believe at seven was that wild animals must always be set free, or they'll die.

"Mommy I don't want him to go. He's my pet," I begged. She paused for a moment, looking at me as if she were seriously considering letting me keep it. But then that impression left her face and she said, "Kayla, sweetheart, that mouse has got to be set free or he won't be okay. You wan't him to be okay don't you?"

"Yes..." I pouted, as I moved the mouse into a larger bucket.

"Then do what's best for him and let him go, okay? C'mon, I'll come with you, we'll do it together."

She took my small hand in hers, and picked up the bucket. We went out to the back yard, where, behind a fence, was the largest field I've ever seen. It went on forever. When we got to the fence, my mother opened the gate, set the bucket down, and then crouched to my level.

"Now, say your goodbyes," She said softly. I looked into the bucket at the poor mouse, who had become a bit more active since I saved him. His breathing had stabalized, and he pawed at the side of the bucket. I reached in and pulled him to my face to look at him.

"You can give him a name if it helps," my mom said to me. "God will watch over him from now on."

"His name is Ralphie," I said, recalling my favorite character from the popular Christmas Story movie. Then, I set ralphie down next to the tall grass, and he scurried off.

"You're very brave honey," my mother encouraged. "I'll tell you what. How about you and I go down to the pet store right now, and pick you out a pet that you can keep?"

I felt a grin touch my ears.

"I think you're old enough now," she smiled at me.

So there we were, at the pet store, not far from my house. I ran about, propelled by the sounds of all the birds and the kittens and puppies. When I pointed to a cat, my mother told me she wanted me to pick something like Ralphie. So the owner directed us to where the rabbits were.

"We were actually looking for a hamster, to be more specific," My mother told the owner.

"I'm afraid we're all out. I just sold my last one yesterday," the owner replied.

"Mommy what's he?" I asked. I dont think she was paying attention to me until I said it.

"I dont... know, honey," she replied, and then turned to the owner again.

"That's a guinea pig," the lady smiled. "Would you like to hold him? He's quite friendly."

"Can I Mama?" She nodded and the lady pulled the pig from it's cage and placed it in my arms. I knew the second that the pig reached up and began licking my lips that I wanted him more than anything. When I giggled, my mother knew too.

"I suppose he's small enough. You may get him," she smiled. I began laughing with joy, and the lady helped us pick out the things we would need for him.

At the counter, as my mother paid for everything, the lady asked me what his name was going to be.

"Ralphie," was all I said, still smiling, and hugging him gently with an impossible desire to squeeze tighter.



Ralphie and I became inseperable. I ran home for a mile every day after school because I couldn't wait to see him. I fed him everything that my mother had researched and okay'd. I even taught him how to stand on his hind legs for a treat and was so proud of my precious little piggy.

Throughout Ralphie's life, I had loved him so deeply. Defended him when the other kids called him ugly. Helped my grandfather build him a bigger cage because I could almost feel his desire for more room. Bathed him, and took full responsibility for everything he did and everything he left on the house floors.

But even the most responsible child messes up. Ralphie only lived to be three years old because of me.

It happened long after I had moved from the house where I saved the field mouse. We had a larger yard and my father always kept it sprayed for bugs. When he sprayed, he'd warn me: "Kayla, honey, it's important that you listen right now. You CANNOT put Ralphie out on the lawn anymore, I've sprayed it for the season. You'll have to feed him his hay out in the driveway from now on, okay?"

"Okay!" I smiled, as my dad reached down and petted Ralphie, who was in my arms. I remember it so well: the last time I'd ever be able to play with my best friend.

When my father left for work that day, Ralphie was in my lap as I let myself live in the video game I was playing. My mother told me it was time for Ralphie's hay, but I was enjoying the game so much I wasn't thinking when I rushed up, went down to the yard, and put him in his pen with the hay. I quickly returned to my game and unpaused. I spent a good hour playing before it was dinnertime.

"Kayla, it's getting dark, you should bring Ralphie in now," my mother said from the kitchen. I don't even think she knew that my dad had sprayed. "Wash your hands after you put him back, okay? Its time to eat."

I went down into the yard, picked Ralphie up and carried him inside into his cage. I kissed him goodnight a few hours later, and he kissed back like he did the day I held him in the pet store. He kissed me back every night. I was ten years old and it still didn't bother me that my piggy ate his poop and still kissed me on my lip.

"Goodnight, Ralphie," I said, and turned out the light.

The next morning was school. I was up and ready to go by seven thirty. But when I wen't to Ralphie's cage to kiss him goodbye, he didn't come out of his hut. I opened the door and lifted up his hut.

Oh, he's still sleeping, I thought.

But when I picked him up, he was limp in my hand. I pulled him close to me, and he was still limp. That was when I noticed he was breathing funny. Almost like gasping for air.

"Mom!" I screamed, and ran with him down the hallway to my parent's room. "Something is wrong, Ralphie is sick!" I said loudly.

"I'll take care of it, honey," my father said to her, and climed out of bed. "Calm down, and take him in the kitchen, I'll have a look at him," he said to me.

I raced into the kitchen, grabbed a towel and placed it on the table for Ralphie to lay on. He was still limp. Alive but not moving. A minute later, my father came in to look at him. I watched him closely with wide eyes. "You're going to be late for school, why don't you go on, I'll take care of him," he said to me.

"I'm not going, he needs a vet, Dad!" I said. But money was too tight, and I knew this...

My dad thought for a moment, and then said almost in a whisper, "Kayla, you put him out on the lawn, didn't you..."

"No, I..."

And then I froze. Because I froze, my dad knew. I DID put him on the lawn. It was all my fault. He ate the poisonous grass. He was probably going to die, and it was ALL my fault.

I sat down as a tear came down my face.

"I put him on the lawn..." I said outloud almost like I knew he was doomed because of me. I had no friends in school and the one friend I did have was going to die because of me.

"Honey we can't take him to a vet," my father told me. I could hear the helpless feeling in his voice.

"WHY NOT!?" I sobbed, loudly, "PLEASE Dad, I'll work, I'll get a job, ask the vet if they will let us pay them back, PLEASE!" I begged.

"Shhhh...Stay with him," my dad said. I'll go call the vet and see what I can do.

I could hear my dad on the phone in the next room for the next fifteen minutes but couldn't understand him. Everything was droned out in my ears because of the guilt. I held Ralphie in my arms in the towel and gently hugged him. He was moving a little now but I could tell he was in pain.

"Where does it hurt, baby? I'll make it better," I said, knowing there was nothing I could do but refusing to believe it. I pulled him to my face, and much to my surprise, he was trying to kiss me again. Weakly, he liked my lip two or three times, and it only made me cry even harder. Then his whole body started tightening up several times.

"DAD, something is happening!" I yelled. My dad came in quickly.

"He is seizing, honey, he's dying..." he told me. Then he reached for him.

"DON'T touch him!" I cried. "Ralphie please don't go!! PLEASE!" I was too upset to even pray. Prayer may have helped but, I'll never know. Because Ralphie's seizures got weaker and weaker and weaker. And then I watched as my best friend's friendly gray eyes closed forever.



While a guinea pig may very well be a tempting thing to give your child, it's in the pig's best interest that you don't... I learned an important lesson that day. Life in a human being's care needs to always be paid full attention to. The smalles mistake can cause the loss of that life. And although I knew better, in one sense, I really DIDNT know better. Because I was a child.

I now dedicate the majority of my time and a large chunk of my finances to my guinea pigs. I've owned over thirty of them, and currently have 18. That day did not result in a loss of my love for guinea pigs. But I learned a lesson at Ralphie's expense. And I hold a promise within me, that my kids will love guinea pigs too, but that they won't own one until they are way older than seven years old. Ten, even.

Take it from someone who has been there okay? I killed my first pet. My best friend. My baby. And if you want to spare your child the guilt that I still feel today, then do them a favor and do NOT buy them that pig or even hamster that they cry and beg you for. They may thank you some day.

Although I fully blame myself and not my parents, I wish I could have learned that lesson a lot more easily than I had to the day Ralphie died. Dedicating my life to helping rescue homeless piggies, and ALL animals has helped. But it will never fully free me from the guilt I'll always have inside me from my carelessness.

-In loving memory of Ralphie. A dirt-brown crested American pig, who lived from 1995 to 1998. "May you be kissing God the way you always kissed me in the part of heaven made just for animals."

[PotBellyPiggy]

I got my piggy when I was 8 and I have always watched over him. I know maybe some kids are not old enough, and should be watched. But I am 12 now and still take care of Chocolate my piggy and friend. I love him with all my heart. Your story made me cry though, I'm sorry that happened. I think what you are doing now for other piggies is a wonderful thing. I just got a second piggy from a rescue and they are now fast friends; his name is Chong. Now it's Chong and Chocolate. Thanks for your story, I think it will help alot of people out there with kids to be more careful.

[ctinaw]

First, I'd like to say that was a wonderfully written story. I'm so sorry for what happened to your sweet pet. Of course it was an accident - and that can happen to anyone, not just kids.

I really have to question though - parents who would leave the care of an animal solely up to a 7 year old child. It seems pretty obvious to me that a 7 year old would not be responsible enough, mature enough or even capable enough to take care of any animal without the assistance and guidance of a parent at all times.

So really, I think that saying "pigs not for kids" - isn't necessarily a true statement - guinea pigs are wonderful pets for children. But when parents buy these pets for young children - or any child - they need to realize that while that may be their child's pet - that THEY are going to be the ones taking care of it - and helping their child learn to care for it. Pets are a great way to teach children the value of life, the responsibility of caring for that life and how wonderful animals are. So no, I would not go so far as to say they are not for kids as I believe pets are extremely important to a child's full development. However - it is the parents responsibility to make sure their children know how to care for it properly - or if their children are too young to do so - that THEY know how to properly care for it.

I have a 3 year old daugher who we "got the pigs for". Am I going to allow her to get the pig out and play with it unsupervised? Or leave all of the feedings and cage cleanings up to her? Obviously not! I don't believe a 7 year old is any more responsible than a 3 year old either. Though their intention are good - the common sense just isn't there at that age. I know that I am the caregiver for those pigs. Honestly I would think a child would need to be around 11-13 depending on the child to actually be able to be responsible enough for complete care of the pigs. And even then I would still be checking all of the time to make sure they were being taken care of properly.

I guess I just don't believe that people should be disuaded from getting guinea pigs as pets if they have young children because they are such awesome pets. Instead parent involvement should be encouraged - with an emphasis upon how MUCH involvement will actually be needed. We all know how great guinea pigs are or we wouldn't be here typing on this forum!

Again, I am so sorry for what happened to your piggie. But also look at what that tought you. I bet you are one of the best piggie moms out there today because of that hard lesson you learned. Not that it makes it any easier, but sometimes those lessons are the most important.

[lynning]

Thank you, Kayla for sharing your story! It brought tears to my eyes. Ralphie would definitely be proud of you and whom you've become!

I didn't get a pet of my own until just before my husband and I were married. Hershey, my first bunny - was kept in an outdoor enclosure. I did everything right, I think. While my husband and I were away on our honeymoon, a friend was taking care of Hershey for us. Hershey ended up breaking his/her neck between the gate and the fence post of the enclosure. Our friend forgot to put the protective fencing back against the gate.

I had several rabbits after Hershey. Our neighbor reported us to the county zoning authority for keeping farm animals. I had to rehome my rabbits or be put in jail & fined.

I'd always wanted a guinea pig since then! My husband kept telling me, "No." Funny, several months ago, our four year old daughter started asking for a guinea pig. Daddy has a hard time saying, "No." to her. So, I got my guinea pig... just took my four year old 'wanting' one for me to get it!

And now I have two!!

Lynn
Michigan
Linny & Trigger - currently in quarantine.

[aaronmeister]

I've had guinea pigs since I was 6 years old. I've never done anything irresponsible with them. We read up and made sure we prepared for my pets. Although literature on these furry animals changed very quickly between early 90s to late 90s, and then solidified in this decade.

[OpalDragonSpiri]

That story was so wonderful and I am sitting here trying to keep the mist from my eyes. You know he always loved you and when you meet him on the Rainbow Bridge, there will be no more guilt. Only love. Just remember that.

[YuselinMaikel]

Oh my god, I was crying while reading your story and I cried even harder when I read what happend to your piggie that was very bad. But like you stated you were only a kid. I have now 17 almost 18 and now my piggies are the first small pet I have


R.I.P Ralphie

[funkydog3000]

What a touching story, it reminded me of my hamster Tarka who died recently. I came home late after going to the cinema and when I went to see him he was weak and couldn't move his back legs, I stayed with him until the early hours of the morning and then put him in a little cage next to my bed so I could keep an eye on him. When I checked on him in the morning he was freezing cold and could barley move, I sat downstairs with him for hours until he finally settled down to sleep in my hands and didn't wake up. I cried my eyes out for days but deep down I knew it was his time to go, he was a very old hamster at 2 years and 5 months and he'd had a string of illnesses and vet trips in the past few months. I still cry when I think about Tarka and the other pets I've lost but I know that they have changed me for the better, just like Ralphie changed you.
My parents got me my first pet, a hamster named figit, when I was nine. Luckily I was responsible and took really good care of him and loved spoiling him. I'm a teen now and my whole life basically revolves around my gorgeous pets, I have a dog, a cat, 2 guinea pigs, 2 chinchillas and 3 hamsters