It’s just over a week since the shocking loss of my beautiful Fred.
He had a minor tooth problem and wasn’t eating properly, so I took him to the vet, who needed to check his teeth under anaesthetic. Now guinea pigs and anaesthetic are not the best of friends, so there is always a risk, but I thought he was a big strong boy and at 4 years, 5 months and 5 days (somehow the days listed on the consent form sort of leapt out at me as I signed it) I thought it was the best thing to do to make sure his teeth were in good shape for the future. He came round from the op., he wobbled round the cage finding his feet, and the nurses phoned me to come and get him in an hour. Just before I left I had a call from the vet: Fred had gone. Just lain down for a nap and gone.
He never really had a day’s illness. A little fungal problem on his nose and top lip. A mystery limp when George was ill that I swear was psychosomatic. Always in charge, the perfect piggy and a joy and delight to me. My first pig. Top pig. The most beautiful boy in the world.
He and George were so close and such a fun pair. They were perfect gentlemen and rejoiced in the fresh veg and herbs and weeds I’d bring them from the garden. I realise my garden is designed round their needs. I wrote stories about them. I hope they get published. I suddenly had a vision of how he had been approached by George who asked him if he was ready to join him, so I wrote that too. It helps a little to write. But I just want him back. Him and George, and Hugo too. The biggest characters and such wonderful friends. Victor is left on his own, although Hector and Humphrey are chatting to him in their own way. He keeps me company in the daytime too.
I buried Fred next to George under the lavender bush in the garden. There is a Michaelmas daisy in flower above them, and strawberries growing over them as well. Their own personal supply of strawberries and lavender, what more could a guinea pig want?