This isn’t one of my pigs, but I saw it in my Facebook feed the other day from one of the cavy organizations and it just made my day. I really don’t think dogs and cats are cute. Not remotely, not even a little. But guinea pigs? Freakin’ adorable. It’s been a rough week, my friend’s funeral might be Sunday. Blessings for your Friday. — VKS
At 12:09 AM on 26, February, 2010 — this precious little friend came into my life. He was Felicity for a week, but we soon sorted that out (he wasn’t a very cute little girl, but as boy pigs go he’s downright precious!). This is my beloved Wentworth L. Wigglewhiskers (“L” for “Lutra” — a reference to the cute little otter whiskers he got from his daddy, Watson); but he’s Dubsie for short. His mama Eleanor was pretty darn cute, as is his daddy (Watsie belongs to my sister).
I’ve had a lot of guinea pigs in the past twenty-three years, but this little guy is one of my favorites because I was actually there the moment he was born. He was a singleton, rare for guinea pigs (and consequently had some very serious “only pig” issues for the first six months of his life). Mama decided he was weaned at right about three weeks, but since she was his only friend and companion, he screamed and screamed and screamed for a lot longer than most baby guinea pigs (who — with their sibling — quickly figure out that Mom is no longer there to tell them what to do, and thus set about attempting to explore, eat, climb on, or destroy everything in sight as they feel out adolescence). Dubsie though? He pretty much didn’t want anything to do with me for the first six months of his life (until one day he decided that I was okay and that he was not going to die). Since then we’ve been the best of friends. He’s a really sweet little guy. He gives kisses, and cuddles, and is just generally a really neat little pig. So today I decided I was going to write this little guy a tribute post, because today is his third birthday. Love you bug!
Wentworth and Eleanor and I moved around a lot — we became a very close-knit family. Wentworth didn’t get to live with his mama, but he did get to see her whenever he liked because her box was right next to his and all he had to do was poke his little nose up and they could talk “over the fence,” as it were.
Last summer Eleanor started slowing down. She was middle-aged and I thought she just needed a friend. As it turned out, she was ill — probably with cancer — and died in my arms on the last Tuesday in November. At the end of September, sweet little Annie came into our lives as a friend to Eleanor. She is now a friend to Wentworth. Eleanor taught him manners, but Annie taught him how to interact with other guinea pigs. They’re really sweet together. Hoping for a few more years with my sweet little friend. Happy birthday sweet boy, you are very loved.
Oh, right — Anne and Wentworth — guess which of Jane Austen’s novels is my favorite!