Sigh. Phineas didn't make it. He passed away and I don't even know what to think, what to do. I'm devastated, and a little angry.
Between 2 and 3 o clock today, he was left outside for far too long. He was reportedly found not moving. My aunt rushed him to the vet. He was there, at the vets, for about 2 hours. Kieran, my cousin and Phineas' owner called around 3 and told me that Phineas might be dieing.
I can't believe that this has happened. That little guinea pig was like my nephew. I loved him as if he were one of my own pets, own family members. And I watched him die in Kieran's arms.
Around 5 Katie, my cousin and Kieran's elder sister, called me and said that they were back from the vet, and that Phinny probably didn't have much time left. I came over, and was crying as soon as I saw the chubby, white phig wrapped in warm towels, resting on Kieran's chest. At some point his body temperature had started going down and he couldn't keep it up.
I don't know how long we were sitting with him at the table. I drank in the scene; Kieran; sitting in a chair, tears streaming gently down her face, holding her beloved guinea pig wrapped in towels on her chest, petting his head, trying to keep him warm.
Myself; sitting just behind her in a second chair, tears streaming down my own cheeks, not saying a word and just petting the guinea pig from time to time.
My Aunt Michelle; standing off to the side, on the phone speaking with the vet that had just treated Phineas, asking if there was anything else that they should be doing, chuckling uneasily into the reciever.
The house was dim, their three dogs in the backyard and their budgies quietly conversing between themselves. . .
At one point we moved to the couch, and Kieran and I switched between holding him. I was sitting on my chest, opening and closing his mouth, almost as if he were gasping for air. I knew that he was probably taking his last breaths. I didn't voice my thoughts, just passed him back to Kieran. She held him like this for a few more minutes. Then, he stopped. She lifted away the towels to watch his body. Nothing. She felt along his neck, searching for a movement of breath, a heartbeat. But there was still nothing.
"Mom," she said, tearing up once more. "I think. . . he's gone."
Aunt Michelle came over, lifting the pig to check him herself. "Oh, wrap the towel on his bottom, on his bottom!" she said frantically. Kieran asked why. The guniea pig was voiding his bowels and I, as well as Kieran and her mother I'm sure, knew that he was gone.
We cried then. Kieran held the guinea pig close to her. Aunt Michelle went off, to where exactly I'm not sure. Into the bathroom, then the backyard, I think. I sat on the couch beside Kieran, crying just as hard as she was. Kieran didn't offer to let me hold him again, but I didn't mind. Eventually she put him back in his cage, went upstairs to tell her dad. She came back down again, then went upstairs. I think she was just pacing, not knowing what to do.
She said that I could leave, if I wanted to, that she didn't want me to feel like I needed to be there. I didn't mind being there, but I'm sure she wanted some time alone to grieve. So, I gathered my cell phone, and we walked to the front door. Once the door closed, we hugged eachother.
"If you don't mind, when you burry him, can you call me, please?" I managed to ask.
She said that she would.
I walked home.
And now, I'm waiting; waiting for her to call me down to say my final goodbye to Phineas.
Between 2 and 3 o clock today, he was left outside for far too long. He was reportedly found not moving. My aunt rushed him to the vet. He was there, at the vets, for about 2 hours. Kieran, my cousin and Phineas' owner called around 3 and told me that Phineas might be dieing.
I can't believe that this has happened. That little guinea pig was like my nephew. I loved him as if he were one of my own pets, own family members. And I watched him die in Kieran's arms.
Around 5 Katie, my cousin and Kieran's elder sister, called me and said that they were back from the vet, and that Phinny probably didn't have much time left. I came over, and was crying as soon as I saw the chubby, white phig wrapped in warm towels, resting on Kieran's chest. At some point his body temperature had started going down and he couldn't keep it up.
I don't know how long we were sitting with him at the table. I drank in the scene; Kieran; sitting in a chair, tears streaming gently down her face, holding her beloved guinea pig wrapped in towels on her chest, petting his head, trying to keep him warm.
Myself; sitting just behind her in a second chair, tears streaming down my own cheeks, not saying a word and just petting the guinea pig from time to time.
My Aunt Michelle; standing off to the side, on the phone speaking with the vet that had just treated Phineas, asking if there was anything else that they should be doing, chuckling uneasily into the reciever.
The house was dim, their three dogs in the backyard and their budgies quietly conversing between themselves. . .
At one point we moved to the couch, and Kieran and I switched between holding him. I was sitting on my chest, opening and closing his mouth, almost as if he were gasping for air. I knew that he was probably taking his last breaths. I didn't voice my thoughts, just passed him back to Kieran. She held him like this for a few more minutes. Then, he stopped. She lifted away the towels to watch his body. Nothing. She felt along his neck, searching for a movement of breath, a heartbeat. But there was still nothing.
"Mom," she said, tearing up once more. "I think. . . he's gone."
Aunt Michelle came over, lifting the pig to check him herself. "Oh, wrap the towel on his bottom, on his bottom!" she said frantically. Kieran asked why. The guniea pig was voiding his bowels and I, as well as Kieran and her mother I'm sure, knew that he was gone.
We cried then. Kieran held the guinea pig close to her. Aunt Michelle went off, to where exactly I'm not sure. Into the bathroom, then the backyard, I think. I sat on the couch beside Kieran, crying just as hard as she was. Kieran didn't offer to let me hold him again, but I didn't mind. Eventually she put him back in his cage, went upstairs to tell her dad. She came back down again, then went upstairs. I think she was just pacing, not knowing what to do.
She said that I could leave, if I wanted to, that she didn't want me to feel like I needed to be there. I didn't mind being there, but I'm sure she wanted some time alone to grieve. So, I gathered my cell phone, and we walked to the front door. Once the door closed, we hugged eachother.
"If you don't mind, when you burry him, can you call me, please?" I managed to ask.
She said that she would.
I walked home.
And now, I'm waiting; waiting for her to call me down to say my final goodbye to Phineas.
RIP sweet Phineous.
Kieran is holding together though. Once again, thanks to everyone.