Our beloved guinea pig, Lily, died today. We knew she was sick for a few days now, and I had just found a small animal vet in the area who, although totally booked, could have seen her Monday. We first noticed a smell coming from Lily that, honestly, smelled like a dead animal. My fear was that it was coming from the lump on her back. When we adopted her, we were told the lump was not malignant and that it was just cosmetic. Maybe so, but I believe it became infected somehow; I assume she had some form of cancer, which is the origin of the lump. It happened very quickly, all within a week. The smell was so bad, that I moved her outside to the balcony for the past couple of days until she could be seen by a vet. I was feeling pretty guilty, because it gets so cool at night here. The temps drop to the 50's. I had covered her cage with a blanket and put extra hay in for her to snuggle in. I had noticed she wasn't really eating very well over the past week or so, but beginning yesterday she did not touch her food. And, this morning when I checked on her and gave her more food, I noticed the hay was untouched and the carrots were only partially nibbled. Her little face was poking through the window in her little 'cave,' and in retrospect I believe she was probably propping her head up there. I was trying to clean up in the cage and noticed she was leaking fluid, but made her move around and nudged her toward her food. She was totally disinterested. After we took Dahin to school and watered the garden, we came back home and made the appt with the vet. When I checked in on her, I called her name, but she didn't move or make a sound. I picked up her cave and she was motionless. And, when I touched her, I knew she was dead. After taking some time to realize she was really gone, I actually got pretty emotional about it; totally caught me by surprise. She was, afterall, the first real pet the kids have had. You know, they've had fish, but you really can't cuddle with fish. She snuggled, she purred, and she vocalized with us, and I was feeling like the terrible pet owner who had not acted sooner. I truly suspect, though, that she had been sick for a while and that it had not really become obvious until this week. I wrapped her in the kids' Winnie the Pooh hooded towel, put her in several plastic bags, put some bedding in the bottom of a paper bag, placed some lilies the kids had picked this week on top and then laid Lily on the flowers. I covered her with more bedding, folded the bag over, and placed it within another bag and placed her in the dumpster. I had called the city and asked about dead animal removal, they referred me to animal control, and every call proved worthless. The dumpster was the best option since we don't have a yard. I told Dahin, though, that the people who take care of dead animals came to take Lily away so that she could be part of the earth again, and used the composting bin idea at school to explain this to her. I think it made sense to her. Not totally a lie, since she will, most likely, go to a landfill where she will become part of the earth. Dahin cried a lot at first, but I told her we would have a memorial service for Lily in evening and I think it made her feel better.For Lily's memorial, we placed a photo of Lily, a gerber daisy from our balcony garden, and a candle on the boys' train bench, and burned incense. Dahin had friends over, twins from her school, who joined us in the memorial. Dahin provided the eulogy. She said, "Lily, was our guinea pig. She had a bump on her back that was stinky and it made her sick and she died." She proceeded to show everyone the bucket and shovel used to clean her cage, her plastic cave (that we used on the balcony), her water bottle, her cage, and the pvc pipe grandfather constructed to give her some exercise. Dahin then suggested we sing "You Are My Sunshine," so I pulled out my dulcimer and we sang. Then, the girls began singing Hannah Montanah songs and it developed into a full-out wake, complete with dancing and food (with the highlight Ronan showing his "hip-hop" moves and leading the girls and his brother in a hip-hop dance-a-thon).
The kids decided to dress up in costumes and went crazy with accessories.
Ronan has moved beyond Thomas the Tank Engine and has now become a huge fan of spiderman. Here, he shows us his spidey moves while Thomas lends support.Our impromptu wake created a cathartic experience for Dahin, truly. I think it helped her cope with the loss of Lily. The boys, really, didn't register what happened. I told them, "Lily died," and I had them say goodbye to her and pet her one last time before I wrapped her up. But, still, I don't think they understood what happened. Ronan kept saying, "She not died; but she still have ears." I don't really get that, but oh well. Dahin was truly sad, but I think the combination of the memorial and the wake helped her get through it. The pic above says "I'm a proud mommy," because I think I did good. It's VERY rare that I feel this way, since I am bumbling my way through parenthood, so I thought I might as well document it. It's going to be a long time before we get another pet, though. I won't be ready for something like this for a while.


Dahin said, "You know why I wanted salad? Because that's what Lily ate and I want to eat this in honor of her."

2 comments:
We are sorry to hear about the death of Lily. It's never easy losing a bet. Sounds like you are doing a great job parenting!
This is one of the sweetest parenting stories I've heard. You did a great job. I remember when my rabbit died in Korea and I was trying to explain it to my kindergarten... so difficult to explain death to a child. Your kids are very creative, btw. Sounds like a very interesting wake, it looks like they play really well together.
Post a Comment