Somber Piguin

  A few months ago one of our two guinea pigs passed to the great clover field in the sky. That left us with one little piggy. We don't want to get her a companion for a couple of reasons:

• Despite her cuteness and sweetness, cleaning the cage is a pain in the ass! Guinea pigs are foul little critters who poop and pee endlessly! I'd like to NOT have that cage to clean someday.
• She never seemed to appreciate her companion anyway. She seemed to be more of an annoyance than anything else  - just someone trying to hog all the hay - and I don't think any other companion would be more welcome.

The remaining piggy is a fat little thing - little rolls around her middle and several chins - many more than the one who died. But since she's been alone she has slimmed down considerably. I think now that the competition is gone she's lost the urge to eat everything in sight before the other pig can even look at it. She's still plenty healthy, just slimmer.

And, in addition to losing excess weight, she's also lost a bit of hair. I understand that it's not that uncommon with guinea pigs. I'm giving her some extra vitamin C to see if that helps. But in the meantime, we have this funny little chubby piggy with a hairless belly and balding spots on her sides. It feels very strange. I can only imagine how it feels to her when I pick her up with my ice cold hands. Yikes!

She reminds me of one of those weird hairless cats! I sometimes call her 'Somber Piggy', named after a cat, 'Somber Kitty' that we came across in the book 'May Bird and the Everafter' and its sequels. We really enjoyed those books and that name is awesome. So, our poor little lonely balding piggy not only has to put up with the indignity of losing her belly fur, but also has to put up with a strange and somewhat ridiculous nickname of 'Somber Piggy'. But really, is it any worse than her other nickname, Piguin?

Quack!