Good bye, little guinea pig.

This morning I went to check on my guinea pig and to change her water. She was lying underneath a little shelf I put in there for her to sleep on (figures she would sleep under it instead of on top), looking comfortable and sleepy. But when I picked up the bottle and found it untouched, I knew something was wrong. Baby, the guinea pig, always goes at her water the minute it hits her cage. I was automatically worried and checked on her. When I reached over to pet her, and she didn't scamper away, I knew all was wrong. Baby wasn't breathing.

I feel like I should have known better. She would never let anyone open the cage door without throwing a fit and running to greet them. What's worse is, horrible as it sounds, she may have been gone for a while. Whenever I checked on Baby, she was in that same spot under her shelf. But she looked like she was just resting, with her eyes open and laying like she would any normal day. Maybe I should have noticed when she hadn't squeaked whenever we chopped up vegetables or rustled a plastic bag.

At first, as anyone might guess, I was hysterical. I didn't want to think that she was gone, and that I'd been stupid enough not to notice. When I called my mom to tell her (she was at work) I could hardly talk through my sobbing. When my dad called after recieving the news from my mom, he told me the only sensible thing. Take deep breaths, have some breakfast, and think about the good times, when she would greet me when I got home from school. I had FCAT this afternoon, and I couldn't afford to stay home and grieve. I couldn't be distracted either. So I went over to her cage and said goodbye, knowing that when I got home we'd have to take her out.

I miss Baby more than I thought I would, and just typing this gets me teary again. Baby died what appeared a comfortable death, hopefully just dropping off in her sleep. She's turning five this year, and that's basically their lifespan. Wherever she is now, I know she's happy. She never has to wait on me to get her a carrot as fast as I can, because I'm sure where she is there's a veggie vending machine. I just hope she brought enough quarters. And besides that she's with her sister now, and I imagine they're doing piggy dances and getting their groove on. I plan to bury her tomorrow afternoon, in a little guinea pig grave deep enough to keep curious animals at bay. And just in case I bought a nice little plant to sit over her.