Our guinea pig, Prubs, is dying. The mass on her shoulder had grown back and she was scheduled for surgery this week, and I wondered if it was worth putting her through it. She was fine yesterday, or at least moving around and eating. But today, very quickly she declined and hid in one of her soft tunnels all day. And when we took her out she couldn't move or eat, and she's just sitting in our lap as we pet her and praise her for being a good, sweet pig.
Matilda just told her, "Thank you for growing up with me."
...and she just passed even as I typed this.
Oh, I’m so sorry. Good night, sweet Prubs.
Much love to the Zmayhem household. What a love she was, and what love she received every day.
I am so sorry about dear sweet Prubs. Much love to all.
Enjoying solitude is more important than cleaning up!
Indeed.
Aw, so sorry about Prubs.
I'm so sorry, Hec & JZ & Matilda.
We're all a little hungover with sad, and Matilda was not happy about going to school today at all.
It is no overstatement to say that the guinea pigs, Marcie and Prubs, helped us survive the pandemic lockdown. Matilda was out of school for 18 extraordinarily long months and was very lonely at times, cut off from some of closest friends. Relationships that have never been repaired.
But she could always take solace in the pigs and cuddled them frequently.
Despite being bonded littermates, Marcie and Prubs had apposite personalities.
Marcie was aloof and beautiful and soulful, singing her little heart out and yearning for smells of the outside world. She would tolerate being held and petted for ten minutes or so and then give you a polite little nibble indicating she'd rather be back in the cage.
Prubs was the runt of her litter, nearly half the size of Marcie when we got them. Her eyes were droopy which made her look particularly plaintive when asking for food. She was scruffy and skinny and cute compared to her sister's sleek self.
Prubs learned early to engage with the humans to get her share of food, always running to the front of the cage when I approached, wheeking loudly when she thought we were late with her salad. She was content to sit in a towel on your lap and be petted until she completely zoned out, like a divorcee at a resort spa getting a massage. At which point she would contentedly pee all over the towel.
When Marcie had mites and sores and bald spots, Prubs licked her wounds and tended to her. When we showed Marcie to Prubs after Marcie had died, Prubs groomed Marcie's face and made the little "where are you" noise that Guinea Pigs make when they are trying to find each other.
She was very lonely after Marcie died, and so we got a new pig named Pickles. Prubs was so excited to see Pickles and ran over to greet and groom her. Pickles then violently attacked Prubs, who looked completely shocked at this. Pickles was too territorial so we had to return her (she got adopted as a solo pig by somebody else).
So we tried again with a neutered boy, and again Prubs was elated to have a new friend and ran to join him immediately cuddling next to him at the animal shelter. And this relationship worked fine. Guinea Pigs are social creatures, and that was particularly true of Prubs who loved other pigs and humans quite a lot.
Any time you picked her up, she would give your fingers little kisses and licks, the same way she would groom her fellow pigs.
I will always be boggled that such small little brains can hold such disparate personalities, but Prubs was very distinctly herself, characterized by her goodwill and kindness to all.
A sweet and touching memorial, David. Thanks for sharing.
Matilda just told her, "Thank you for growing up with me."
Oh, my sympathies. Prubs was a good pig.
I will always be boggled that such small little brains can hold such disparate personalities, but Prubs was very distinctly herself, characterized by her goodwill and kindness to all.
That is consistently amazing, that those tiny little individuals are individuals. It came through just from y'all's posts about the pigs here and on FB. That's a lovely eulogy.
