A little piggy with a big personality

Oh dear, another horrendous gap between posts! Will have to try harder. Think I will try and blog at work in my dinner hour, as i seem to be busy the rest of the time. Recently it's been getting xmas gifts, making bits and bobs like a christening spoon for my cousin's baby, going to work, and generally keeping on top of the mountains of stuff i need to store in my room, and trying not to die in a sketchbook/DVD/clothes related avalanche disaster.

Now, bit of sad news. In the past few weeks, My oldest two guinea pigs have been showing signs of getting old, with Gizmo of them losing hair and bleeding randomly. Splot started losing hair too, but i think that's because my youngest two have been nibbling her hair. Anyway, at four years, they aren't really that old, but Gizmo was getting thin, going bald and bleeding from her back end. I took her to the vet, who was irritatingly clueless about the whole thing and charged me £18 just to say ''I don't know whats wrong, see how she goes.'' (See how she goes, what a stupid thing to say. She's bleeding randomly, that's how it's going to go, it's a pretty drastic symptom. Silly cow). I did a bit of research, and I reckon it was ovarian cysts. The hair loss seemed to point at a hormonal thing, anyway. So we potter along and she seems to be well enough in herself. Fast forward to about two weeks ago, when the weather gets cold. I fought tooth and nail for my mum to let me keep the old two in the house over the winter, as they would normally be ok in my shed, but as they are bald, they wouldn't be able to cope with it dropping to below ten degrees. I brought them in for a couple of nights, but my mum kicked up such a fuss about the smell. It wasn't a dirty smell, no, she couldn't stand the smell of FRESH hay and sawdust. So, after much arguing, she made me put them back in the shed, and gave me a piece of tarp to put over the cage, convinced it would keep them warm. WTF???

So the next day, I go into check on them after work, and Gizmo is draped over the food bowl, freezing cold, having died. On reflection, it MIGHT not have been the cold that killed her, it's possible it was her underlying illness, but the cold didn't help, and if it was her illness, I would have much rather her die warm and comfortable. But no, Mum knows best. Like fuck.

She lectures me that i don't look after them properly, because i don't clean them out precisely when she wants me to, but when it comes down to it, she won't do anything that will actually help them.

But anyway, away with such bitterness. RIP Gizmo, she leaves best friend and lesbian lover Splot, and is now buried under a conifer in the back garden. Hopefully guinea pig heaven has lots of dandelion leaves and rustly bags to squeak at. Night night, sausage x