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| Name: |
Rascal
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Age: |
Deceased, Four years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Abyssinian, Guinea Pig
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| Home: |
Cortlandt Manor, New York, USA
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This
is Rascal, who passed away many a year ago. I was about half way
done with high school when he died. I had gotten him when I was in
Middle school in 1996 and I paid for him with my own allowance money.
He was all alone in his cage and let out a loud "weep" when
we picked him up. We were lonely for a new guinea pig since our last
passed away. This poor "bunny" hardly ever moved when we put
him down on the floor to run around. Later we found out why.
Apparently the pet store where we got Rascal did a really poor job
neutering him, so he had problems with that. And when we found that he
wasn't eating it was because his front teeth, top and bottom kept on
breaking. He couldn't pick up any food to eat! This was because Rascal
had scurvy, a vitamin C deficiency. That and why he didn't like to
move much was because of his terrible arthritis. He hardly ever
"talked" because his trachea was calcified.
Rascal was a wonderful "bunny" and I loved him,so towards
the end of his life one day when I came home from school, I found him
laying on his side like as if he was dead. I was frantic. He was still
alive, and I picked him up and held him for the longest time, crying.
My mom told me not to cry because Rascal would know I was in pain. I
couldn't help myself.
Around that time my mother and I had to start feeding Rascal by
syringe, chopping up his pellets and basically making them a liquid so
he could eat. My mother and I fed him three times a day plus his
medicine and water - all that through syringes. My bird, Ricky
Ricardo, or just Richard, was there for Rascal too. He was in the
guinea pig's cage more than his own!
There's a song that reminds me of Rascal, because I was learning how
to play it in Orchestra while he was sick. It's Pachelbel Canon in D.
During school in my music class I would break down in tears right in
the middle of the song because I thought of Rascal and how much pain
he was in. But when I would get home from school, I would do my
homework on my bed, where the sun shone in the afternoon and I would
treat Rascal to some sunbathing. It probably felt good for him and his
arthritis.
Rascal was so thin from his diseases that he could put all 4's of his
feet together no sweat when he scrunched up. Because of all the time
and effort my mother and I put into Rascal he seemed to get better one
day. I was cleaning his cage and he was walking around my floor,
eating birdseed (the only thing he could eat on his own) and then he
traveled out into the hall, which he never did before! He walked to my
brother's room, looked around, then across the hall to my mother's
room and "weeped," then headed back to my room where we
cooed at him for doing that.
Unfortunately, that summer my mother, brother and I went to
California, leaving my dad with Rascal. Rascal died while we were
away. And it didn't seem so bad as far away as I was. Well, it hit
when I got home and saw an empty spot where his cage was. It hit
really hard. Occasionally I still cry over him, but more so of another
whom has died more recently. I still remember the feeling of Rascal's
fur when I would run my hand back and forth on his back. And I suppose
that's all that counts; that I love him. Yes, I still do. I always
will love him.
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