Squeaky Wheel Seeks Grease

Updated below the cut.

I got an email this morning from Tex that said Chewbacca had refused treats, and he was taking her to the vet.

I hopped onto Gmail messenger and asked him what was up, and he told me she was lethargic and hadn’t left her CavyCozy (basically a fleece bag designed to cater to the burrowing instincts of guinea pigs), and that she refused both kinds of treats he offered her. This is highly unusual. Usually, you get this image when you come near the cage.

Tex said he wasn’t sure if she’d had anything to eat or drink, since Lucy shares the cage, and they shared water bottles and food bowls. I told him to call me as soon as he knew something, and he promised he would.

I went to classes as usual, and noticed my phone buzzing during my religion class. It was Tex, leaving me a message.

The last time Chewbacca went to the vet was on January 14. Since then, she’d lost 1/3 of her body weight, and grown a ping-pong-ball-sized cyst in her abdomen. Ultrasound revealed that her digestive tract was completely empty, suggesting, that she hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours, as Tex suspected. The vet gave her fluids, and gave her a shot of some sort of sugar solution to see if he could pep her up enough to eat. On his lunch break, he went to the store to buy kale and parsley (this is why I love my vet) to see if he could entice her. He was unsuccessful.

I freaked out, told my history teacher I wasn’t going to be able to stay, and emailed my biology professor to tell him I’d be missing class. It seems extreme, but she’s been my nearly constant companion for six years. If she was dying, I wanted to be there.

I went home and tossed some stuff in a bag, checked my email, and while I was preparing to leave, I got a call from Tex.

The vet was working on her, drawing the fluid out of the cyst and trying to make sure she was okay, and he left the room to take care of something else briefly, and when he came back in, Chewbacca had quietly died.

We went to pick her up (I drove out to Collierville and had Tex take me to the vet, because there’s no way I would have been able to drive back…no way at all), and got Lucy while we were at it (she was there to get her claws trimmed). The vet showed me the ultrasound photos of the cyst, and showed me the fluid that came out of it. It was like green glass - just this clear liquid with nothing at all floating in it. He said they tested it, and there was no bacteria, no white blood cells, nothing. Just…fluid. He said, “I’ve never seen anything like it.” This guy’s done it all (I hear he was the president of the American Veterinary Association or something at some point, and his wife’s in opera with me), so for him to see something new is a big deal. Chewbacca was kind of an anomaly all-around, so despite my grief, I was kind of amused.

I spent about 30 minutes in the dining room with her on my lap, holding her and stroking her fur. It sounds morbid, but her fur was so soft, and I just wanted to say goodbye. The vet had wrapped her in a couple of hand towels before he put her in the box we carried her home in. The hardest thing I’ve ever done is wrap her back up and have Tex seal that box.

Tex buried her next to his frog pond in the backyard. We’re currently seeking a sort of ornament to put over it, since it’s in the flower bed and won’t be run over by a lawnmower.

I bought the vet a thank-you card, because he did a lot for her in the relatively short time that he was her doctor. And getting the kale and parsley today? That was above and beyond what he “had” to do as her vet.

So now there’s just Lucy. I just really hope she ends up being okay. She didn’t really react when we showed her the body.

All things considered, Chewbacca lived a long and happy life. I feel lucky to have had her as my piggy.