Cavia Porcellus Africanus?

A friend and I met up at the Fitchburg Art Museum on Saturday.  One room had all sorts of African art.  I was totally smitten by a black and red piece in the middle of the floor.  The colors, the bead-work, the feathers were all so cool!  But the first thing I thought of was Bertie:

Can you see the resemblance?  I suspect the museum staff person thought I was a little nuts with how I laughed out loud, then excitedly asked if I could photograph it.

I should have taken a look at the tag to find out what it really is, but I am pleased simply by what I see in it. 

Shades of Bertie

In the weeks before adopting Wedgwood, there had been strange goings on with Boadicea.  First, she took up running laps in the cage in the morning (and occasionally the evening).  It happened most often when the cage was covered - so there's no videos.  But when I caught Boadi doing it, she was very similar to when Bertie bounced around.

Remembering Bertie and Pinniped

I adopted Bertie and Pinniped (named Sweetie and Midnight) on a cold January evening in  2010.  We had lost Pippin a few weeks before, and I had been on the lookout for a pair of young sows to keep Willow company.  Willow had been very lonely.  Bertie and Pinni had been part of a large seizure of guinea pigs on the Cape and had been in foster care until they had weened their nine pups.  The two of them had been up for adoption only a few days before I took them home with me.

Bertie

We debated about what to rename Sweetie for several days.  I liked Godiva or Guilian, because her colors made me think of chocolate.  But her blue eyes and dapper, dopey personality made us think of Bertram Wooster.  So we ended up calling her Bertie.

Bertie was one of the most stubborn, opinionated pigs I've ever had.  She liked things her way and took no arguments.  So much attitude in such a small little package.  It was at odds with the cute, timid demeanor she had about her.  Bertie was fairly easygoing about life and yet would stand up to Pinniped if she started to push Bertie around.  She maintained this attitude right to her very last breath.

Guinea Pig Pain

Writing about a sick guinea pig isn't fun.  I am sure it's not uplifting reading, either, but I hope this is informative.

A somewhat puffy Pinni

It has been said, again and again, that guinea pigs are masters at hiding illnesses.  They can be stoic little creatures when they want to be.  Pain and illness can show up in some odd ways; not all of them are obvious.

First, there is the classic puffy-corner-sitting.  This behavior is the easiest to observe and understand.  I've seen this with Victoria, Willow, Bertie and Pinniped.  They'll huddle into a corner of their cage, nose pressed into the corner, curled into a ball and fur puff out.  It would be cute, if they didn't look so darned miserable doing it.  Willow and Bertie did this in the open and in cozies and cuddle cups, too.  My pigs gravitated towards any spot that they felt somewhat removed from everything else around them.

On the Edge

Guinea pigs can be so strange.  I've had a few that have this thing about perching on the edge of a drop-off.  One of Pinniped's favorite places to sit is on the third level, right next to the ramp and as close the non-gridded section as she can get.  I'm surprised she hasn't rolled down the ramp.  Don't you think she'd be more comfortable a bit further back?

Seeing Pinni on the edge of the third level reminded me how Bertie perched atop the hidey house.  She was unhappy when I parted her from her beloved hay rack.   When I first blocked access to hay rack, Bertie would sit on the very edge of the stool.  It was as close to the hay rack as she could get without being in it.  It looked like she was half over the side of the stool; I wondered how she balanced like that.

What a disapproving look!


Pinniped sits on the edge because she appears to enjoy it.  I think it's also to draw attention -- how can you walk by that pig without an urge to feed it?  In contrast, I think Bertie's perching was in protest over the hay rack and an effort to get the same view as the hay rack offered. 

Do you have guinea pigs that enjoy precarious perches?

A Ghost of Christmas Past

Pinniped pretending to be Bertie

My new order of bluegrass is delayed.  I switched Pinniped and Cannoli back to the remaining bit of Timothy hay one week ago (the rest of the 30 lbs went to PARL, to the delight of the staff -- thanks to my readers that encouraged me to do so).  I had been busy and didn't want to buy more orchard grass for just a few days (or so I thought).  However, I am regretting the return to the Timothy:  I'm coughing, sneezing and headachy.  Tuesday can't come soon enough!

In an effort to keep the hay-dust to a minimum, we stored the half flake of Timothy hay on the front porch.  I took down their hay rack and replaced it with a tissue box to help contain the hay.  Rob has been filling the the tubes (or the hay ring) and tissue box outside so I don't have to handle it.

Pinniped has been very interested in the tissue box and spent most of Friday parked in it.  I was strongly reminded of Bertie's fondness of hay containers.  We lost Bertie a year ago, a few days after Christmas.  I can't believe how the year has flown by.  Seeing Pinni like this has had me reminiscing over some of the fun bits of Bertie's quirky personality.  So much attitude in one little package.  I am sure that Bertie would heartily approve of Pinni's use of the box full of hay.

Where the Egg Ends Up

I've been putting the egg-cersizer in the cage a few times a week and it gets batted around like a soccer ball.  Bertie and Pinniped would immediately face off like opposing teams.  Even now, Pinni comes running over and noses it over as soon as I place it on the floor.

What I find entertaining is where the egg-cersizer winds up at the end of the day.  After it's emptied, I find it stuffed in a corner or wedged behind the brick under the water bottle.  My favorite is the one time it was slam-dunked into the nearly-empty food dish.  How did they manage that? 

Once the girls wedge it into these spots could they ever get the egg out again?  The spot behind the water bottle isn't very accessible.  The egg-cersizer is usually empty when I find it in jammed in a corner, so there's not a whole lot of motivation to dig it out.  Was it tucked out of the way on purpose?  Perhaps they were putting their toy away, the game having ended when it ran out of cranberries.  I suspect it's sheer luck that it gets wedged in these spots after it's empty.  On the other hand, knowing guinea pigs, it's more likely a message for me to refill it.

Tunnel Turnover

I keep the guinea pigs' cage stocked with a few cozies and cuddle cups.  I usually put their tunnel on the second level, since that area gets a lot of through-traffic and a tunnel doesn't disrupt the flow like a dead-end cozy.  Bertie disagreed with my choice and regularly insisted that the tunnel belonged on the first floor.  She'd usually pull it down at her first opportunity.  I figured that Bertie had some kind of quirky opinion about it.  Now I'm beginning to think she had an ulterior motive.

In the past, if the tunnel was on the first floor, Pinni would tend lay on it, or ignore it entirely.  I've been watching Pinni over the last several days, and I see her often taking naps in the tunnel, but only when it's on the second floor.  Interesting.  So maybe Bertie's first-floor preference wasn't due to some kind of piggy aesthetics.  I can totally picture Bertie moving the tunnel downstairs just to hassle Pinni.  After all, Pinni would regularly oust Bertie from favored sleeping spots.  I bet Bertie was just returning the favor in her own unique way.

A Solo Anniversary

It was three years ago tonight that I picked up a frightened Bertie and curious Pinniped from the Dedham shelter to bring home and be friends with Willow.  And what a three years it has been!  We've had adventures in stew pots, trips to pignics and many outings in the back yard.  We had a brief period with one big happy herd, then a couple of years in which we were content with no fighting during floor time.  There's been popcorning around in clean cages, exploring on the floor, lounging in hammocks, careful arranging of the cage contents and time spent storming the hay rack. 

Pinniped:  then and now

2012 was a rough year for the herd.  We lost Willow in February, which wasn't entirely out of the blue; she was already an old lady when the Newbies were adopted.  Pinniped was diagnosed with an ovarian cyst (which appears to be in remission).  Then we lost Bertie in December, which was very unexpected.  Although she'd been battling illnesses for over a year, she had been holding together quite well.  I wasn't prepared for the outcome.  Bertie was only three and a half.

So my trio has become a solo.  We are celebrating Pinniped's adoption by herself.  My little nosy rodent has grown to be a big, chubby, nosy rodent, in constant need of squeezes and love.  Pinni could do without the squeezing.  She'd also be happy if I limited my showering of love and affection to melon rind and tomatoes and skip the kisses and snorgling.  Sorry Pinni - it's a package deal.  You should be used to it by now.

Happy Anniversary to my old Newbie!

Bertie: Determined Rodent Extraordinaire

Less than a month ago I begged the vet that I wanted my old Bertie back:  the one that liked to run laps and defiantly climb into hay racks.  I felt like a little kid, demanding my dad fix a toy that was beyond repair.  I wanted this so much that I threw practicality to the wind, and scheduled surgery to remove Bertie's kidney tumor early in the new year.

Bertie had improved since her Thanksgiving vet visit.  By the week before Christmas, she had finally crept up over 700g, wasn't fighting the hand feedings as much and was generally looking a bit better.  I allowed myself to hope that the surgery would be successful, and after this year-and-a-half of gradual decline from viruses and kidney issues, I would get my active, happy Bertie back. 

Alas.  It was not to be.

Teach N Treat - Level 3

The girls have been mastering the first two levels of Teach 'N Treat.  I had a chance to try the remaining challenge with them today.  This level keeps the four covers used in level 2, but locks them onto the board.  This allows the covers to be pushed around, but they cannot be picked up.

Having watched Bertie and Pinniped play with this toy over the last couple of months, I figured this level would be a non-event.  And this was true.  Pinni walked over, immediately nosed over the first cover she encountered, picked out the melon piece and took off to enjoy it.  The two of them had no problems maneuvering the pieces.  Their biggest frustration was their inability to lift up the covers or knock them over.  You can see Pinni tries several times to pick them up to move them.

Diminishing Returns

I discovered a few weeks ago that Bertie likes peas and carrot baby food mixed in with her Critical Care.  She stopped fighting me as much, which is good news.  However... I had increased the hand feedings to two or three times a day.  As far as I could tell, she'd been eating on her own, too, so the latest drop in weight was mystifying.  She had stayed in the 760s for most of November, but fell into the 700s just before Thanksgiving.  The way she attacked her food made me wonder about tooth issues.  Bertie went in two weeks ago to have her molars filed.

The vet was very concerned with this latest drop in weight, and didn't think the few spurs she found on Bertie's molars was enough to cause this much weight loss.  She did further tests while Bertie was under anesthesia and didn't like what she saw: shadows behind Bertie's stomach and liver.  It took a while for the test results to come back, but the latest thought is that the kidney disease may, in fact, be caused by a tumor on or near the kidney.

A Matter of Taste

Peas & carrots, Critical Care, and pureed spinach

Critical Care seems to be a love or hate thing with guinea pigs.  I've seen this myself and heard it from others.  Willow could never get enough of it.  Bertie would be happy if she never touched it again.  In an effort to make the Critical Care more palatable, I've tried mixing it with baby food.  I thought banana would be a hit, but Bertie wasn't impressed.  However, peas and carrots seemed to be at least somewhat edible.

Whenever I've fed Bertie, I would let Pinniped slurp up whatever Bertie wouldn't eat.  Pinni would often try to pull the syringe out of my hand because she wasn't getting it fast enough.  But the first time I tried feeding her the leftover peas and carrots mixture?  Pinni took one whiff and gave me a look like I was trying to poison her.  What the heck is this stuff?

Solo Shots

Bertie and Pinniped survived our annual Christmas card photo shoot last Friday.  The holiday cards go out with a group photo, but every year we manage to get one or two nice single shots, too. 

Bertie was so well behaved during the initial set of photos.  She didn't like the tin at first, but changed her mind the second time we put her in.  She's patiently waiting for the fuss to be done and over with.  There will be extra treats, right?

We were unable to get a good solo photo of Pinni in the first series, unless you count a beautiful bum shot.  However, Pinni calmed down a bit when we put her on stage the second time and managed to pose nicely for the camera. 

It's so nice when they behave!

The Christmas Photo Shoot

This year's set

Black Friday, for us, is a day of sleeping in, eating Thanksgiving leftovers, wrangling guinea pigs and taking lots of photos.

This year was easier than past years for a number of reasons.  There were only two pigs to herd and bribe.  What a different dynamic that is!  As an added bonus, using the grids to hold up the backdrop allowed me to work with the pigs and keep my hands out of many of the shots.  There was one drawback with that: Pinniped kept facing me for treats and we got a number of her bodacious butt.  Bertie wasn't feeling terrific, so she was fairly tractable.  It was mostly Pinni that I had to chase around when she wasn't in the tin.

Ambling Along

We are on a fairly regular routine.  Bertie gets Baytril twice a day, in hopes that her failure to gain weight is some well entrenched bug.  She had gained some weight the last time she was on the stuff, but it doesn't seem to be having any effect this time around.  I need to call the vet with a progress report soon.  She won't be happy with my results.  There has been no improvement, and I suspect I've seen a hint of labored breathing.  I've been waiting for this, since Bertie's lungs have not looked good on several x-rays.

Bertie still hovers at about 740g.  She gets critical care once or twice a day (which is a fight), and still is getting jabbed every other day with 30cc of lactated ringers.  The subcues have become a permanent two-man job.  She at least doesn't cry all the time, but she is one pissed off rodent.  Bertie can't stand to be restrained, but she won't sit still, either.  So one person immobilizes her, and the other injects and tries distracting her with treats.

Teach N Treat - Level 2

It was the fifth or sixth time trying the Teach 'N Treat on Level 1 that I saw Pinniped systematically moving the disk and checking the reservoirs for bits of tomato.  Finally - a recognition of cause and effect.  I moved the disk over a few of the pieces she uncovered, and she purposely shoved the disk far over to one corner, and started to check for uncovered tomatoes.  I did not see Bertie do the same, but if Pinni has figured it out, Bertie can't be far behind.

I figured it was time to try Level 2.  This level has four plugs that cover any four holes.  They need to picked up out or knocked over to get to the treat underneath.

Apple Streamers

Whenever I make apple pie or something that involves peeling apples, I give the peels to the girls.  I try to make a game of it.  Since the peelings are long and thin, I can easily wrap them through the grids on the third level.  They dangle like streamers.  It's pretty funny watching the pigs trying to catch the ends to pull them down.  When they get too short to reach, sometimes they're smart enough to head upstairs and grab what's left. 

Bertie and Pinni managed to pull these apple peelings down pretty easily.  Normally they have to work at it for a while.  It can be like watching a kid bob for apples or try to hit a piñata.  It's good to make those pigs work for their treats!

Bertie in a Bowl

Although we mostly experimented on Pinniped with various containers, we didn't forget Bertie.  About the time that Pinni had had enough, we were trying a bowl shot that just wasn't working with her.  So out came Bertie for a bit of camera time.

This bowl has quite a pretty "ping" to it when it's hit, and I liked the sounds of Bertie's nails against it.  However, her nose demanded that I put a sound track on this video (you can still here the ping, if you listen for it).

I would have loved to have a longer clip, but Bertie was more interested in eating her apple peel than nosing about for more.  Starlets and diva sows - you work with what they give you, on their terms!

At Home with Bertie

We're on vacation this week, at home.  Bertie is still getting regular subcues and I didn't want to saddle a pigsitter with that thankless task. 

At least we knew this well in advance and planned accordingly.  I didn't have to deal with what many guinea pigs are experts at:  acting like they might be ill at the worst possible time.  All of the pigs I've had have mastered this trick.  Since guinea pigs excel at hiding illness until they're really and truly sick, it's not a good thing to wait a day or three to get them to the vet.  I've had pigs suddenly be ill days before I'll be out of town or just after the vet closes, so I can't even call to consult.  My favorite?  Willow showed all the symptoms of a URI on New Year's Eve, after the vet and most pharmacies were closed.  Luckily, I have a good relationship with the vet on call, and she had me pick up a prescription at a 24-hour pharmacy two towns away.  Yeah, that was a fun way to spend the evening, on icy roads to boot.

So when I came across this cartoon, I couldn't help but smile.  It's all true!  Obviously the artist is a seasoned guinea pig slave who has piggies as badly behaved as mine.  Look at that sweet innocent face.  Don't be fooled!  It's the pigs you love most that are the worst delinquents at playing The Sickness Game.