Pogo had surgery two days ago and got his bladder stone removed. We were supposed to feed and water him back to health, and in two weeks, take him in to get his stitches removed. Unfortunately, we had no idea that he would not make it through those two weeks. My mom found him dead in his cage this morning around 1:40 a.m. It's weird to think that only a few hours ago, I was holding him, feeling his heart beat rapidly. I was worried about him, and my mom said that he was probably just in pain and that he could have more pain medicine in the morning. I held him close and prayed to God, asking Him to take Pogo's pain away and to make him healthy again. I set Pogo on a towel in his cage afterwards and put his house over him to make sure he was comfortable for the night. I thought that he'd like to sleep on something soft instead of his bedding. My mom came out a little while later to get her pillow and saw that he had worked his way out of his house. When she went to go pet him, he no longer had a heart beat. Our little Pogo had left us.
It was hard for me to come to terms with his death. I lifted him out of his cage and tried to talk to him, but as I felt his body, limp in my hands, I knew that he was gone. I held him close and kissed him on the head, and before I knew it, I burst into tears. I felt my heart break into a million pieces as I realized he wasn't going to come back. He would no longer squeak or move around. He wasn't going to rest his head on my chest anymore or ever suck water down from his water bottle again. I couldn't handle it and handed him to my mom while I sat and sobbed. God had answered my prayers, and not in the way that I preferred, but I knew that Pogo fought hard for us. Even when he didn't want to eat or drink, he was a good guinea pig and took the water and food that we begged him to get down. He put up with the medicine and the doctors, and I still remember the day we brought him home from the hospital after getting the bladder stone back into his bladder. He licked my finger to thank me for making him feel better. Little did I know his health would only drop from there. That must have been the best he felt in the past week.
I will no longer have a guinea pig that will follow me around while I go get clothes out of my closet. I will not get to hear him squeak at me and beg for attention like he used to do, and it will never be the same holding another guinea pig again. Pogo was one of the most comical pigs I've ever had, and he was always the little genius that thought through things and figured out how to find ways out of his play pen or how to grab the food bag with his teeth to tug and let a landslide of pellets fall into his dish and all over the bedding. I often laughed at his brilliant little mind and how he analyzed everything that he could benefit from if possible. I knew that he was a special one, and it's hard to believe that he took such a quick turn. One day he was happy and healthy, and the next, he was bleeding and in pain.
I'd like to think that Pogo worked his way out of his house so that he could see me one final time before he passed, and I would not like to think that it was his calling out to hold him while he died. I hope that he wasn't in too much pain either, but I do know that he died knowing how much I loved him. God. I loved that little creature with my whole heart. He brought me so much joy, and it's going to be really hard to move on from this point. I wish he could have died in my arms. That's the way I would have preferred him to go, with someone holding him and giving him love, warmth, and closeness. But I guess beggers can't always be choosers.
Pogo, I love you so much. You are no longer in pain, and although you being gone is something I'll have to learn to cope with, I just want you to know that you were the greatest little piggie I could have ever raised and loved. You'll be in my heart forever.
Rest in peace, buddy. You fought hard.
No comments:
Post a Comment