Rest In Peace, Rye

this evening, rye — one of two guinea pigs — seemed to be lethargic. we braced the girls for the ultimate likelihood… after all, gp’s don’t live too long.

i checked on rye earlier tonight. he was no better. i picked him up and cradled him in my arms. i used a dropper and gave him some water since they always drink us out of house and home. i stroked his fur, i looked in his eyes. he was shivering and i figured he wasn’t long for this world. i carefully returned him to a nice spot in his cage with some fresh pine shavings. i laid him down and made him comfortable, with his back against a wooden thing we have in the cage. his piggy brother, Poppy, seemed mildly aware of the distress.

just about an hour ago, i checked again. he had passed on to the other side. he is now where the grass is always green, carrots are forever showing up on the carpet of green grass, and a babbling brook brings fresh water by for all time. (well, actually, he is now in an amazon box, wrapped in a little towel, as i figure the girls will want to say goodbye.)

rye, we will miss your little piggy legs elevating your hot dog physique across our kitchen floor. we will miss your incessant audible reminders that your water bottle is empty. and we will miss your squeaks when we peel carrots or chop vegetables.

rest in peace, rye