This little piggy went to market. This little piggy went home. This little piggy had roast beef. This little piggy had a GIANT TUMOR ON HIS JAW THAT WOULD NOT GO AWAY.
This.
Led to this vet visit.
Led to this unsuspecting Mother and a pre-mortem photo shoot.
Led to this long ride home and an empty basket.
We went in for a consultation, we left minus one furry friend.
Never in my life would I have imagined I would pay $160 to have a guinea pig (that cost $30) euthanized. Then again, never in my life would I have imagined my husband and I would sit around at night dreaming up ways to put the poor thing out of it's misery OURSELVES. When Erick suggested dropping it off of a local newspaper-production building, I decided we had officially lost our minds and called the vet.
We will miss you, guy. You were my favorite.
Here's to happier days.
Here's to happier days.
And awkward photos.
3 comments:
Oh man! I don't EVEN know how many whistle pigs we had growing up, but never had to have one euthanized! So sad, so tough, so expensive.... I know. I hated every time one of them died. One time I even did fairly extensive physical therapy with a pig in an attempt to keep him from dying. I know. The mental image of a 13 yr.old developing her own PT regimen for a rodent is a bit... weird. But it actually (seemed) to work. Anyway, my sincerest condolences to all of you.
Oh, dear. But think how much more traumatic if he had suffered at home...I'm sure the little ones would have noticed.
Bless your hearts! You are great parents!
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