I had to make the decision today to put Alana's guinea pig to sleep. The vet said she was critical and gave her less than a 50/50 chance. She said that these 'prey' animals tend to just roll over and give up when they get sick and really, that's what Ginger was doing.
Shannon's devastated. I hated having to be the one to make the choice, but when I asked the vet what she would do, she said she'd put her down. It just all came on so suddenly. Sunday she was fine, held and loved by the girls. Yesterday afternoon, she was lethargic and today she was almost non-responsive, not eating, not drinking, the works.
Thing is, she was a YOUNG pig, less than a year old and it seems like such a shame. I had pigs as a kid that lived for years and years, no health problems, nothing. The vet says they're just not as hardy as they used to be; too much inbreeding.
Shannon's home sick today, so she's sipping cocoa and crying. Alana will find out when she gets home from school. Don't know if I should clean up the cage and everything and put it all away or if it would be good for Alana to help me with that.
*sigh* Adulthood really sucks sometimes!
And all of this happens just as I'm vowing to stop whining and complaining on my blog! Really, I stood there the vet's office, trying to decide what to do, knowing in my heart that the treatment plan she was proposing would not work and we were going to lose her no matter what, but not quite wanting to admit it. I thought I was prepared to lose her, but when the time came to decide, that was really, really hard. I found myself wondering why *I* was in charge of this. Well, because I'm the mom, that's why. But, wait, when did I become the responsible grown-up? Is there a way to undo that? Because, at times like this, I really really really want someone else to be in charge.
Shannon is pretty upset, and that, in turn, upsets me. Ginger was a sweet animal. Inquisitive and fun to have. She loved brocolli, even though it really wasn't good for her, so we limited what she'd eat. She was okay on carrots, but spinach and parsley were favorites too.
Alana's not home from school yet, but I think she'll handle this better than her sister. I told her this morning that Ginger wasn't looking good and I was worried that she wouldn't make it. Alana told me if Ginger died, we'd get another guinea pig.
We'll have a piggy funeral this evening, though I'm not sure where we'll put her to avoid sprinkler lines. I'll get one of those stepping stone kits for the girls to make too.
I don't know how to guide them through their grief. I want to make it go away. More accurately, I want it to be gone so I don't have to watch them hurt. But I don't want to rush them or discount their feelings of loss and sadness either. I've read several online articles on the subject, but I still feel woefully inadequate.
*sigh*
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