Buttercup first came into our lives approximately a year ago in early March. Guinea pigs are rather social animals, and realizing that Peanut, our only guinea pig at the time, had no companion, we eventually came to a conclusion and adopted Buttercup. We were not prepared, nor aware, of how this pint-sized cavy could change our lives so drastically. The earliest memory that we can recall sharing with Buttercup is the day he was first introduced into our lives. As we made our way home in the car shortly after we had picked up our new family member, we found the ride quite amusing as we watched Buttercup investigate the box that was used to carry him. His whiskers twitched as he made an effort to decipher every smell that was around him. Occasionally, the car would turn sharp corners and he would helplessly skid from one corner of the box to the other. Of course, we understood that this part of Buttercup's journey home would be rather stressful for such a small animal, and we did our best to comfort him during this time.
 |
| Buttercup engaged in a fierce game of tug-o'-war with a stalk of hay. |
 |
| Buttercup performing "In the Corner". |
Of course, during these times, we remained alert and kept a close lookout for birds and other predators. Thankfully, these animals avoided our backyard while we were present. Nevertheless, Buttercup was to remain supervised, as we worried for his safety. We would never put him, let alone Peanut, in such danger.
Another pastime Buttercup adored was listening to music, specifically the flute and piano. Unlike Peanut, who wasn't fond of a rhythmical beat, Buttercup fell in love with music as soon as we started playing for him. If you happened to be witnessing Buttercup at a time when he was indulged in a song, it was unmistakable that he enjoyed it, as he was occasionally squeaking, chutting, or even wheeking in pleasure, his beady eyes gleaming and yearning for an encore. He would contentedly sit and stare into the player's soul (or so it seemed) throughout the entire piece, and even stretch out and drift into a peaceful doze when the mood was right. Music is one of life's simple pleasures, and no guinea pig knew this better than Buttercup.
After a long day, the family would occasionally get together on the couch to watch television. As you can imagine, Peanut and Buttercup were there as well, marveling at the moving pictures that were displayed on the screen. Buttercup, especially, took an immediate interest to this, and would stare at the screen for ages, shifting as he witnessed the unknown events that were held before his eyes. If the program didn't flare his attention, Buttercup would turn around, obviously uninterested, waiting patiently for the following show to proceed. This behavior unfailingly brought giggles to any member of the family.
Although we cherished every memory we experienced with Buttercup, it is true that, eventually, all good things have to come to an end. There is so much more that we would relish sharing with the world about our guinea pig, but that would not hold the capacity of a single post. In addition, we feel strongly that no one will ever fully understand the love that was exchanged between us and Buttercup, even including the effort that we gave to tell you. However, if you can understand how much our guinea pig meant to us to some degree or fashion, then that is all we ask for. Buttercup was an endearing piece of our life, one that remained with us for too short of a time.
We started noticing slight symptoms of sickness approximately a month after Buttercup was brought home. The only noticeable one was his occasional wheezy breathing; for instance, when Buttercup was busy exploring outside of his cage, he would rarely give out light wheezy sniffs and coughs as he made an effort to decipher every particle of his surroundings. Alarmed and slightly anxious about this behavior, we decided to keep a close eye on him, as he continued to act similar to his normal self whenever this action proceeded. These signs hardly made an appearance, however, and signs of illness in guinea pigs are commonly persistent. More than once, Buttercup would go through short spasms (not violent) of shaking as well. However, these episodes were less than a minute in length and we suspected it was something passing through; by the time Buttercup had celebrated his first birthday, we had only seen the spasms twice, perhaps even less. Guinea pigs tend to shake when they are cold or frightened as well, and we can recall seeing these shaking spasms only in the early winter months. We have to say, Buttercup did get an annual checkup at the vet, and there had been no signs, nor reports, that he was ill.
The morning of March 22, 2014, however, when Buttercup's loss of appetite was just beginning to reach it's climax, Buttercup took a turn for the worst. When we came downstairs to feed him, we were shocked to find him laying with his nose faced toward a corner, whimpering slightly. His breathing seemed forced, and he appeared to be gasping for breath. Buttercup attempted to heave himself to his paws when he saw us, but he didn't have the strength to lift his bottom half off of the ground; consequently, he could do nothing but helplessly collapse back down. We were immediately alarmed, and we opened his cage door to pick him up to get a closer examination. Usually he would have enjoyed a small chase around the cage, but Buttercup could only glance up fearfully as we lifted his limp and seemingly lifeless body from the bedding. As we held him, we stroked his head softly, speaking to him comfortingly. He gazed up into our eyes with a look of love and understanding. He knew what he was going through; he wasn't going to make it. He was saying goodbye.
Nonetheless, we called up for an appointment with the veterinarian as quickly as possible. We were told later that Buttercup was diagnosed with an Upper Respiratory Infection, or URI, a common illness to guinea pigs. The symptoms of a URI are very slight; in fact, by the time most guinea pig handlers discover that their cavies have the infection, it is, most likely, too late because of the fact that guinea pigs masterly "hide" the symptoms when they are under the weather. Guinea pigs are prey animals in the wild, and any outward signs of weakness would result in an immediate death from their predators. To this day, guinea pigs continue on the legacy of instinct to mask the symptoms of an illness. Unless your guinea pig is of an older age and very strong in his immune system, then URIs are almost always fatal-and Buttercup was no exception, especially dealing with the fact that we had saved him in the nick of time. Having adopted Buttercup from a pet store, we believed that he had been born with the infection as well, similar to many guinea pigs. The unhealthy living conditions that these small animals live in before being brought to the stores only add to the possibility, and, unfortunately, URIs are dangerously contagious; one guinea pig could have easily passed it on to Buttercup. Along with that, when a guinea pig is born with the infection, it often does not appear until the guinea pig is of older age. The veterinarian let us know that they would try their best to give Buttercup some medications and keep a close eye on him throughout the day. We had to leave Buttercup at the office overnight, but the veterinarian reassured us that they would call occasionally to send back how he was coping. In the afternoon, we got a call- but it wasn't what we had been praying for. Despite the veterinarians' best efforts, Buttercup's breathing was only slowing down. We wanted to believe that he would eventually be on the road to recovery, but inwardly we all were aware of the answer.
Later that night, we received a call from the veterinarians' office that Buttercup had passed; apparently, the medications hadn't reached him in time. We were overcome with devastation; to this day, it is still difficult to believe that he is gone. Yet it comforted us to know that Buttercup's short suffering was at an end; he was in a better place. We just wish that his life hadn't been taken at such a young age of one year and four months. There was so much more we could have accomplished; it only seemed unfair that all of our future moments together were cut short.
 |
One of the final pictures taken of Buttercup, showing off his unique
half black and half brown ear.
|
When we go downstairs to feed Peanut, we still expect to see two cages, one with a guinea pig gnawing madly on the bars, the other popcorning and wheeking in his excitement. We are only greeted by one cage, however, and our hearts shatter, as there is no more squealing to greet us with delight each morning. Peanut doesn't bother to chew on the cage bars with the same enthusiasm as he did when Buttercup was around; after all, Buttercup almost always led the cheer of motivation and excitement. Suddenly feeding Peanut isn't such a task to look forward to, although we make an effort to continue our lives in a positive manner.
Playing the flute and the piano without Buttercup to contentedly listen to us fills the house with loneliness. Whenever we play, we try to imagine the pint-sized guinea pig next to us, listening quietly. Even though he isn't visually sitting and viewing the performance, we are filled with the knowledge that he is, in fact, there, encouraging us to continue playing through our grief for him. Playing music for us is no longer just an activity. It is a sign to show that, like each note, we must move on, keeping Buttercup's spirit in our hearts. With Buttercup gone, everything has changed. We cannot express how much grief and pain we are currently going through. Buttercup meant the world to us, and we feel as if, to some degree, that world has been torn away from us.
Rest in Peace, our Baby Buttercup.
 |
Our Baby Buttercup
November 4, 2012-March 22, 2014
|
YouTube videos that Buttercup appeared in.
Our official YouTube channel: www.youtube.com/user/PeanutGuineaPigOur official blog: www.PeanutGuineapig.blogspot.com
