… we almost had the impression our brains are liquefying.
But now it’s over and we can go back to our usual Belgian weather and activities. 🙂
Stay tune, we will tell you about our diet :P, the preparations Ms M does for their holidays and many other interesting stories.
Ms M broke all the written and unwritten laws of binding two guinea pigs males. She followed her gut and apparently it works.
Kirk and Archy were out on the couch for few times and they didn’t seem impressed one to each other. They were on the couch, passing by, but not really doing something together.
Wednesday afternoon Ms M decided to open the fence between the two of them and see what happens. The main thing she skipped (and please don’t do this at home!) was cleaning the cages and making sure the odors are neutral. But the boys didn’t seem to mind this.
She had two main concerns: how the boys will react at being together and how the white ones (Spock & Data) will react to meeting Archy at the fence. Spock can be very nasty with Data if something bothers him at the fence.
Well, everything went pretty well. A little bit of teeth chattering, but no biting, no fighting.
Still Ms M hadn’t had the guts to leave them like this over the night, so the fence was back late in the evening.
Fortunately, the other adult biped was at home on Thursday and Friday and the fence was up again, this time for the night too. The boys are fine together, although we do not see any huge friendship there. But tolerance is acceptable if this gives them a bigger space.
Archy is still getting scared of the movement around him, but less and less and being with Kirk seems to diminish it. So far s good!
And Ms M is happy she can take nice photos of both of them. 😀
This is the human writing. A sad, restless human.
I was taking a shower this evening and started crying. It’s becoming a habit since Worf died last Thursday morning. Probably because it’s the only moment when I am somehow alone and no one would ask me what’s wrong.
This time is different. This time I cry, sob and silent scream. Because I finally manage to name what bothers me a lot.
I feel like I failed him. I am so so sorry that I failed him.
I deeply regret everything that happened, starting with his pododermatitis and the need to take him out three times per week for the laser therapy. And continuing with his pneumonia and our bad management of the situation.
He was our responsibility and we failed him.
Another very profound regret is that on Wednesday when I left him in the veterinary clinic, all small, looking bad and scared, I failed to hug him and tell him I loved him. I just hope he knew it.
I write all this while crying in my bed with my daughter in my arms and my son sleeping aside me. And the feeling that I failed Worf is so strong that I barely can breathe anymore.
I f@#£_& failed him! It’s all I can think about.
He is no longer here because us, the humans, the adults, took some bad decisions and failed him.
I failed him and I am so very sorry. I miss him and I must learn to live with this.
P.S. I really hope we’ve learned our lesson.
P.S. 2 If you ever feel that your veterinarian is not doing everything and you should ask for a second opinion, don’t hesitate. Ever!