I Wasn't Ready

I knew with the diagnosis of kidney issues that Boadicea's days were numbered.  She had gained some weight last week, had been annoyingly cranky, and although she looked uncomfortable and ate slowly, she had mostly been herself.  On Saturday we refilled her pain medication and brought home a second one to keep her comfortable.  Sunday morning Boadi woke as her hungry cranky self, but after breakfast she started to fade.  By Sunday evening she was too weak to do anything.  We lost her on Monday morning.

I wasn't ready.

Here I was, preparing to keep Boadi comfortable for the next week or three (as awful and dragged out as that would have been) and she decided to check out.  She didn't clear it with me first.  No warning other than a suspicious lack of interest in morning pepper (one never turns down morning pepper).  As the day progressed, I fretted over her:  was she hurting?  Could I coax her to eat?  How could I make her comfortable?  I sat with her; told her I loved her.  I eventually tucked her in a corner of the cage all snuggled up with food and water within reach.  Boadi's passing most peaceful I've witnessed of any of my sows.

Suddenly she's not here to worry over.  Instead of weeks of exhausting heartache, I got one day of heartbreak.

I am sick of having guinea pigs waste away before their fifth birthday and being powerless to stop it.  I am tired of the months of angst I go through while nursing each of them.  I have had more than my fair share of chronic illnesses; three of my last four sows developed symptoms at such an early age.  When Cannoli passed and I adopted Wedgwood, I expected to have them as a pair for at least two or three years.  This wasn't part of the plan.  It's hard not to feel like I've failed (even though I know it's not in my control).

In the end, I told Boadi it was okay to go.  That Cannoli was waiting for her with treats to steal share.

But Piggy-pie - I wasn't ready.  I miss you.