Remembering Mabel

I found Mabel (then named Jewel) at the Potter League rescue.  She was bright and cheery when we met her, but simply flopped down exhausted after 30 minutes of meet-and-greet with Wedgwood.  I doubted the wisdom of bringing her home:  she was listed as 5 years old, was so tired, had some signs of neglect and had just lost her long-term cage mate.  I braced myself for heartache and figured she might last a year, tops.  But having met Mabel she had to come home with me.

Turned out to be a really good decision and my predictions were really bad.

Wedgwood was supposed to be our last pig but was unhappy being solo.  Adopting Mabel was to stave off Wedgwood's loneliness for a while.  Mabel certainly did that:  Wedg had someone to hassle and boss around.  Mabel just rolled with it.  As long as there was food and cozies (and a hammock she could get into that Wedgwood wouldn't), life was good.  Heck, life was great.  Mabel didn't have to work for any of it.  Wedg made sure to make demands for food; Mabel just had to appear to eat it.  We began calling her The Mooch, because she was so lazy and expected all food to be delivered directly to her.

Yeah, she was living the life.

Then my plans went off the rails.  Mabel's health improved; she had more energy although she continued to loaf about.  She was clearly going to outlast Wedgwood.  Wedgwood's health declined; she died from her tumor in April.  Mabel became the solo pig... and was fine with it.  Her daily routine hardly changed.  Most  inconvenient for Mabel, though, was that she needed to wheek for treats when they didn't appear fast enough.  I don't think we'd ever heard her make demands before that.

As much as Mabel expected to be waited on hand and foot like a queen, she was an amazing trouper.  Never complained no matter what situations she found herself in:  long car trips, staying in strange places (multiple times during our move), several trips to the vet, and lots of fussing over her paw.  She was calm and curious over stuff that would have freaked out any of my other pigs.  As long as she was fed and comfortable, the rest was unimportant.  Amazing.  Her biggest fault was she was unbelievably - and I do mean monumentally - destructive when she didn't feel well.  Mabel would go out of her way to chew things that aggravated me - cozies, the cage, furniture, electric cords, part of the blinds.  Little pig, why??  On the other hand, there was no question when she needed to go to the vet.

Mabel fought a series of infections over the summer including respiratory and bumblefoot.  She was deemed infection-free by Labor Day.  Mabel spent the autumn enjoying the new house and looking for treats any time either of us walked in or out of the kitchen (both of us at home all day - that was often).  She even gained back some of the weight she'd lost over the summer.  In typical guinea pig style, she hit her high point just before the end.  We got a few days warning before she passed away quietly on Friday morning.  Even so, all weekend I've been stopping myself halfway to Mabel's cage to say hi or to feed her or to give her a scritch.  I had no idea I interacted with her that often and I keep getting startled by the loss.  There's no remaining piggy to mask that.

So, Miss Mabel the Mooch, your short stay made a great impression.  I'm so glad I brought you home with me.  I got one last abby, you were a good companion for Wedgwood and I'm grateful you lived well as a solo piggy.  I'll miss giving you chin rubs and wuzzes and having you tell me it's dinner time (how will I know it's 4:45pm?).  I enjoyed your laid back, moochy attitude, your opinionated, old-lady charm.  You were a good little pig.