Farewell to Calpurnia

On Thursday my sweet little guinea pig, Calpurnia, died of surgery complications. She had a massive thyroid tumor which was unfortunately misdiagnosed until it was very late in the game. The wonderful veterinarian, Dr. Shepard, performed a very risky surgery to remove it. The massive tumor was growing around all the important bits in her throat; her jugulars were so encased that there was no blood flow in them! Cal made it through the risky surgery like a trooper and seemed to be doing well for a little while. Then she crashed, and despite Dr. Shepard's best efforts she passed away. I got the call just as I was preparing to go on a long weekend trip north, so my mother and I went to the vet's office to collect Cal's remains. Dr. Shepard took us into a waiting room and gave us hugs and the full story. We talked about Cal, the surgery, and about small animals and their healthcare in general. We took Cal home and buried her in our little pet cemetery. Then today we received a card from the vet's office (signed by everyone) expressing condolences. I have to say this is possibly the smartest and kindest vet on the planet. I hope everyone who has a pet is as lucky as we are to find a good veterinarian to take care of their beasties, big and small.

Now that pretty little Cal has passed away I have no guinea pigs. It's the end of a glorious era of small cahttery little critters. Guinea pigs don't posesses a mean bone in their body, and they are so enteratining to watch, cuddle, and listen to. In they heyday of guinea pig ownership I would come down the hallway to my room and all four pigs would start crying "wheeek wheeek wheeeeek!" to try and get my attention, for food of course. They loved finishing up table scraps of fruit and vegetables, and when the weather was nice I would let them outside to eat to their little heart's content.

Cal has the softest white fur, gorgeous pink eyes, and the silliest crest on her head. She was always more timid when it came to cuddles, but the sneakiest about snaring all the best morsels for herself. Woe betide any creature who got between her and something tasty!

I am sure I will own guinea pigs again one day, but for now their cage is empty and I will dearly miss their little voices.