Last night I had the misfortune to discover that Larry had died. No warning, no sickness. Just walk into the room and see him sprawled in front of his house. Our best guess at this point is that he choked on a chunk of honey stick treat. Truly horrific way to go if you ask me and I'm feeling just awful about it for a couple reasons: 1) I gave him the treat. 2) I was probably in the other room reading while he was dying. Not that there was anything I could have done to stop it... I don't think the Heimlich would go over to well on a guinea pig. It's just so terrible.
Right now our main concern is Mo. He must have been right there, watching his friend struggle and die. That's got to leave a mark and it's not like there's therapy for your pet. Even though they had their problems when they lived in the same cage, they seemed to like each other. They would squeak to each other. They'd sit in their cages and look at each other. They'd poke their noses out at each other. I don't want Mo to be depressed and lonely now that Larry is gone. Perhaps I'm personifying the guinea pigs more than is realistic, but I don't want this to turn into a gay, guinea pig version of "Romeo & Juliet." He seems to be ok right now. He's still eating and emerging from his house every once in a while. We're just not sure if we want to get another one. Adam says we should. I'm not convinced yet. We'll see what the weekend brings.
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