For Moritz

This morning one of our guinea pigs died. He was over six years old, very old for a guinea pig, and he hadn’t been well for a few days. He didn’t want to eat anymore and he almost faded away. I don’t think he suffered much, and he was very old.

We first got him over six years ago, together with his little brother. The animals were only about six weeks old, tiny, but lovely. The brother died when he was just two, after having some problems eating. Then we got another companion for our Moritz, a dark-coloured, different type of guinea pig. When this one arrived he was scared of these big people and he was forever hiding behind his big fellow guinea pig. They got on very well, sometimes having their little arguments over food, but they could cuddle up very sweetly when it was cold.

Moritz was getting old, though, he had trouble with his teeth and we had to cut his vegetables into small pieces for him. He could really enjoy his sweetcorn, fennel or cucumber though. And he loved little slices of apple. If you stroked him after giving him his favourites he would let out this purr of contentment. Then, just sometimes, if you cuddled him, he would lick your nose to let you know he liked you too. But he had been gradually getting a bit slower, though he never seemed less content.

It is sad to lose him because we had him for so long, and he was such a trusting, gentle little creature. I am glad he didn’t get to suffer too much though, but we will miss him.