While You Were Gone

Many of you know that I was on vacation last week in San Francisco.  Alfalfa was left at my step-dad’s house.  I jokingly call him Alfalfa’s granddad…  I left tons of greens, two fresh cucumbers, a fresh bag of carrots, fresh timothy hay, and apples as treats.  I told him that he could supplement Alfalfa’s diet with some fresh picked and washed dandelions.  I book marked several pages on his computer that could help him with questions about guinea pigs.  I even wrote out detailed instructions on how to care for and feed Alfalfa.  Given all of that information, what could possibly go wrong?

I gave everyone summarized update on Facebook.  However, the story behind those summaries is really funny.  Here are the text conversations between me and my dad over the course of my vacation…  Enjoy.

Day of Departure:

Dad:  “Alfalfa is in your room and he is eating his dinner.”

Me:  “Thanks.  That’s good.”

Dad:  “I gave him greens, carrots, apples, and cucumber.”

Me:  “That’s good…just watch out how much you give him.”

Dad:  “Did I have him too much?”

Me:  “I don’t know…”
Dad:  *sends dark picture of Alfalfa eating*

Me:  “Sorry, I can’t tell from that picture…  I’m sure it’s ok…”

Dad:  “I’ll take some back…”

Me:  “DO NOT DO THAT!  HE WILL BITE YOU!”

Dad:  “Too late…  Do guinea pigs have rabies?”

Me:  “NO!”

Dad:  “He didn’t need to bite me…”

Me: “You tried to take away his food what did you expect?!?  Besides, he will not over eat…”

Dad:  “Let me go and put something on this…”

Me:  “Ok, good night.”

 

Day 1:

Dad:  “Alfalfa is jumping up and down when gave him his food.  Is that normal?”

Me:  “Yes.  It’s called popcorning…”

Dad:  “Give him popcorn?”

Me:  “NO!  What you saw is called “popcorning”.  That’s the term we use to describe it…

Dad:  “Oh, why?”

Me:  “I don’t know…look it up.  Is everything else ok?”

Dad:  “Yes…except for that jumping thing.”

Me:  “The pop-corning…”

Dad:  “I thought you said not to give him popcorn…”

Me:  “NO popcorn!  Never mind…  TTYL…”

The Golden Gate Bridge

Day 2:

Dad:  “There’s a lot of poop in Alfalfa’s cage…”

Me:  “Ok… Describe a lot.”

*five minutes passes*

Me:  “You still there?”

Dad:  “Hold on, I’m still counting.”

Me:  “Counting?!  Are you counting pellets?!?”

Dad:  “You asked how much…  Can I just send you a picture?”

Me:  “lol”

Dad:  “What?  I’ll just send you a picture.”
*picture of a lot of poop arrives*

Me:  “Looks normal to me…”

Dad:  “Ok, if there is more, I’ll call…”
Me:  “Dad, there is going to be A LOT more… That’s what GP do!”

Dad:  “That’s not normal…”
Me:  “Yes it is…  Call me if it doesn’t keep building up!”

Dad:  “OK.  But I’m not counting it again.”

 

Day 3:

Dad:  “All is well with the guinea pig…”

Me:  “Good to hear.”

Dad:  “Well…”

Me:  “What?”
Dad:  “He peed all over the floor when I walked into the room to feed him…”

Me:  “He was excited to see you.”
Dad:  “It smells.”

Me:  “I’m sure it does.  It cleans up easily enough…”
Dad:  “Is that normal?”
Me:  “What?  The pee or the smell?”
Dad:  “The pee.”

Me:  “He only does that when he’s really excited.  That pig is more like a dog than a pig some days…”

Dad:  “You owe me.”

Me:  “I know…and I love you.”

Dad:  “Sure, leave me with a peeing guinea pig…”

Me:  “lol”

Dad:  “What?

Me:  “If he doesn’t pee he’s sick, silly…”

Dad:  “I knew that…”

Me:  “Sure…sure you did…”

 

Day 4:

Dad:  “Alfalfa is eating well.”

Me:  “Good…that means he is healthy…”

Dad:  “He gets a bit of all of his food twice a day.”

Me:  “Only give him greens in the morning…”
Dad:  “He looks too hungry for that…  I give him carrots, cucumbers, and apples too…”

Me:  “He’s going to get fat.”

Dad:  “He looks like he could use a couple extra pounds…”

Me:  “POUNDS?  Try ounces…  OMG!”

Dad:  “Should I cut back?”

Me:  “Just in the morning…”

Dad:  “Ok.”

Dad:  “But what if he looks hungry.”

Me:  “That’s what the hay is for…he gets as much as he wants.”

Dad:  “All he does with it is spread it out.”

Me:  “Clean that up and give him fresh hay.”

Dad:  “He’s dragged it all over…”

Me:  “Yeup, he wants fresh hay.”

Dad:  “Wow, he’s a bad pig.”

Me:  “Yeup, TTYL.”

 

Day 5:

Dad:  “Alfalfa is running around.”

Me:  “lol, describe it…”

Dad:  “Random circles…back and forth…”

Me:  “Oh, those are called “zoomies”…”
Dad:  “Good name for them…”

Me:  “It’s funny to watch.”

Dad:  “Oh, he just stopped and is looking at me.”

Me:  “Is it in a menacing fashion?”

Dad:  “What?”

Me:  “Never mind…”

Dad:  “Ok…”

The Pacific Coast of California

Day 6:

Dad:  “Alfalfa bit me again…”

Me:  “Why?”
Dad:  “He doesn’t like me…”

Me:  “He doesn’t like men.”

Dad:  “Oh.”

Me:  “Don’t take it personally.”

Dad:  “I have another bite on my hand.”

Me:  “Sucks to be you.”

Dad:  “Thanks.”

Me:  “Don’t thank me, thank Alfalfa.”

Me:  “Is he being aggressive any other way?”
Dad:  “No.”

Me:  “Sorry about your bite…”

Dad:  “Thanks.”

 

Day 7:

Dad:  “Alfalfa is being loud this morning…”

Me:  “That’s normal.”

Dad:  “He sounds like he is going to die.”

Me:  “No…that’s just him.”

Dad:  “I never knew guinea pigs could be so loud!”

Me:  “Yeup.”

Dad:  “He really is going to die if he keeps that up…”

Me:  “No, GP are that loud.”

Dad:  “He got louder…”

Me:  “He’s got two levels:  loud and louder.”

Dad:  “Louder just kicked in…”

Me:  “lol.”

Dad:  “It’s not funny.  I’m going to get a headache…”

Me:  “lol.”

Dad:  “I’m going to put in ear plugs in order to feed him.”

Me:  “Good luck.”

Dad:  “Thanks, I’m going in…”

 

As you can tell, were interesting for my dad over vacation.  He was more than happy to have me back home and taking care of Alfalfa.  As for Alfalfa, he held a grudge against me for a couple of days.  Once I gave him a nice meal, he was happy again.  I never want to go on vacation again without him…ever.

“Dangers of Cedar Bedding – Alfalfa’s Story” – Part Two

Ten minutes later the vet walked back into the room with the x-ray in hand.  He put it up on the light board and turned it on.  The black and white imaged of Alfalfa’s body blazed.  I have little experience reading x-ray.  But, I could tell that the image was not good.  The vet began to talk about the x-ray results.  I did not hear a word he said.  I went into a bit of a shock.  I looked down at my guinea pig sitting on the exam table loosely wrapped in a towel.  I had the sudden urge to pick him up and comfort him.  I gingerly grabbed him and placed him on my shoulder.  I turned my back to the x-ray, the vet, and his words and began to gently sing to my pet.

I’m one cool pig… – A

The vet stopped talking.  After several minutes, he interrupted me with, “Kerry Anne?  Do you understand what I am saying?”

I began to cry as I rocked Alfalfa back and forth.  “No,” I replied through my tears.  “I lost you…  I’m sorry…”

The vet handed me tissues and gently urged me to sit down.  “His lungs are very bad…it’s from spending all of that time on those cedar chips…  You did nothing wrong…”

“I know,” I replied blankly, “I took him in because I saw how bad he looked…I couldn’t let him just…just suffer…”

“I know,” the vet comforted me, “I know…  I remember you and Petey.  You took him in too although he was a special needs guinea pig…”

“Yea…” was all I could say as I kissed the top of Alfalfa’s head.  “Ok, now what?” I asked bravely.

“I’m going to be totally honest with you,” the vet said looking at me, “It may be best to put him down.”

“What?!?” I yelled standing up reflexively and grasping the bundle in my arms even tighter.

“Please sit and let me explain,” the vet pleaded from his seat below.  I sat down.  I stopped crying the best I could and turned to hear out what the vet had to say. “Ok, his lungs are infected and damaged.  They are scared.  We can treat the infection…  However, the damage is most likely permanent.  This means that his lung function is compromised.  He may never recover from this…  Kerry Anne, you may take him home and he could die…”

“Die?” I asked rocking the bundle in my arms.

“Yes,” the vet explained, “The fluid in his lungs…the mucus could cause him to drown.  The risk is very high right now.  Guinea pigs can’t get that stuff out of their lungs very easily…”

“Ok,” I said.  “What if he gets over this initial issue?  What then?”

“Well, that’s tricky,” the vet explained, “If he gets sick again, he may not be strong enough to fight it.  If he needs surgery, he may not be able to survive.  I don’t think you will ever be able to neuter him.  I wouldn’t want to risk putting him under.  He may live a very short life.  I just don’t know…”  I began to cry again.

“I want to fight for him,” I said through my tears.  “I want to try to get him better…give him some time…two weeks…then if he doesn’t get better or gets worse then I’ll make the decision…the decision to put him down.”

“Ok,” the vet said.  “You are going to have to keep a close eye on him for some time.  And I’ll need to see him back here in about two weeks…sooner if he gets worse or there is ANY change…”

“Ok,” I said wiping my tears, “Ok…”  Just then Alfalfa let out a small wheek followed by a mucus cough.  I think it was his way of saying thank you.

“I think he does that to clear his lungs,” the vet remarked, “You may hear a lot of that over the next two weeks…  On the bright side, if it gets louder and stronger, it’s a good sign.”

I laughed at his comment and held out my hand to shake his.  “Thanks for everything.”  We shook and I left to settle the bill out front.

The receptionist smiled at me and offered me a tissue.  “That bad?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “It’s going to be a fight.  But I have a feeling this guy is going to be just fine.”

In one side…out the other… – A

“Good,” she said handing me the $450 bill, “I’m glad to hear that…”  I paid my bill and left.

The next two weeks were hell for me and Alfalfa.  Each cough brought me running to Alfalfa’s cage in a panic.  He did not like taking his medicine and fought me each time I tried to give it to him.  Slowly, Alfalfa began to recover from his infection.  His squeals got louder.  They less often ended in a mucus cough.  He began to eat more and drink more.  I was encouraged by his progress.

Alfalfa’s next vet visit went much better.  He had gained weight.  The infection was mostly gone and needed only one more fourteen day course of antibiotics.  He was more alert and his wheeks were almost at “Abby” volume level.  The vet was glad to see he was doing so much better.  And to show his appreciation to the vet, Alfalfa peed on him during the examination.

Over the next several months the damaged to Alfalfa’s lungs began to heal.  Currently his is at about 90-95% lung function.  His lungs are permanently scared.  I need to closely monitor him for any lung problems.  One of the most important things I can do is keep his cage clean and the house dust free as best as possible.  The vet said to treat him like a kid with asthma.  So, I have made an extra effort to keep the house as hypoallergenic as possible.  He still does that mucus cough every once and a while.  He may do that for his life.  The vet says his lungs may produce some extra mucus.  It may be their way of dealing with the damage that was done.  It is a type of chronic lung fibrosis.  I am amazed with his ability to survive and recover from the damage that was done to him early in his life.  I am also amazed that a simple decision about which bedding to use could cause so many problems for one small guinea pig.

Alfalfa is fighter…and so is his mom…and I’m proud to say that’s me!

“Dangers of Cedar Bedding – Alfalfa’s Story” – Part One

I adopted my guinea pig Alfalfa impulsively.  I was presented with an animal that was in desperate need of a good home and didn’t think before I jumped.  When I examined him, I discovered that he was bad shape…  Alfalfa’s teeth were too long.  His diet consisted of only pellets and carrots.  His nose ran.  His nails were too long.  They were starting to curve under. His feet were sore from living on dirty bedding.  His ears were full of wax.  His cage was too small and too dirty.  His hair was matted with pellets on his underside and butt.  His male part area was unmentionably unclean.  His eyes ran a bit.  He had this weird cough.  Oh, boy did he stink.  And to make matters worse, he had spent the first nine months of his life on cedar chips.

“Even on this side, I’m cute!” – A

When I got home that first day, I cleaned him up the best that I could.  I trimmed his nails.  I gave him a bath.  I trimmed the fur that was matted and too dirty to come clean easily.  I un-caked and cleaned his waxy spot on his butt with a bit of olive oil.  I cleaned out the tons of wax in his ears.  I gently cleaned the caked on buggers on his nose.  I checked and cleaned his eyes ensuring that no gunk was matted around them to irritate them again.  I even made sure his male area was in tip-top shape. I put together a cage that was three times the size he was used to and threw out the old one. I filled the cage with Carefresh bedding, a variety of good fresh food, fresh water, and lots of timothy hay.  After several hours of work, he looked like a brand-new guinea pig in a brand-new home.  There was only one problem…the neglect had already taken its toll.

When I was done, Alfalfa spent a bit of time exploring his cage.  Things were quiet in the house and I noticed that he sneezed a lot.  I also heard an odd wheezing coming from him when he breathed.  Sometimes that wheezing turned into a mucus filled cough.  It sounded like he was going to choke to death.  I was planning on taking him to the vet sooner than later.  However, the noises he was making made me very concerned…  Guinea pigs do not make noises when they breathe.  Guinea pigs should not cough.  Finally, it is not a good sign when guinea pigs sneeze.  So, I scheduled a vet visit for him.  I adopted him on a Tuesday and had at the vet on Thursday.  I went to bed that night concerned for my new pet.  I prayed that he would get better now that he was cleaned up and in much, much better environment.

On Wednesday morning I was encouraged by Alfalfa’s progress.  He was no longer audibly wheezing with every breath.  He seemed to have much more energy.  He even let out a bunch of squeals at me.  They were weak and usually ended with a mucus filled cough.  However, I was encouraged by his progress.  I left for work in a good and hopeful mood.  When I got home from work, I noticed that Alfalfa had some crust around his eyes and nose.  It was a sad sight.  The poor thing was clearly suffering.  I picked him up and gently cleared the gunk from his face.  I used a warm wet cloth and managed to get most of it off.  He was still not audibly wheezing and the sneezing seemed less frequent.  But there was that mucus cough.  It was not getting any better.

Thursday afternoon arrived and I swept through my apartment, gathered my new pet, and rushed off to the vet.  Alfalfa was not handled much during the first months of his life.  So, this vet experience was very traumatic for him.  When we got the vet I was greeted with the usual paperwork.  Most of it I left blank.  The receptionist at the desk was not too happy with my lack of information on my pet.  She said that she would ‘try again’ with me on my next visit.  I was escorted into a room with Alfalfa.  He let out a small wheek followed by a mucus filled cough.  “Oh, that doesn’t sound good,” the receptionist said with great concern.

“Yes,” I stated in as calm as a voice as I could muster, “That’s why we’re here…”

I sat with Alfalfa in his travel cage for about five minutes before being greeted by the vet tech.  He weighed and got Alfalfa’s temperature.  He remarked that his temperature was a bit high and at the top of the normal range for a guinea pig.  When he was done with Alfalfa, he put him back in his travel cage.  Alfalfa let out a horrible series of mucus filled coughs.  The tech was taken aback by the noise and backed away from the table.  Unfazed, I reached in and put Alfalfa on my left shoulder.  I gently patted his back to help him clear the mucus in his lungs.  He stopped coughing after several pats.  “There you go,” I said gently to my suffering pet.

The tech had a concerned look on his face as he said, “I’ll get the vet right away.”  He slipped out of the room without another word.  I continued to rock Alfalfa on my shoulder as we waited for the vet.  The vet came in minutes later with the same tech in tow.  He introduced himself briskly and asked me to put Alfalfa down on the towel on the examination table.  He poked and prodded Alfalfa to the animal’s chagrin.  The guinea pig did not like to be handled.  Finally, he took out his stethoscope to listen to Alfalfa’s lungs.

“Am I too close for you?” – A

The vet took a long time to listen to Alfalfa’s lungs.  I was very scared as a sat and watched.  He told me, “I need to get an x-ray of his lungs…now.”  The statement was made with such authority that I didn’t even question it.

“Ok,” I replied without thinking.  With that, he whisked Alfalfa out of the room with the tech following close behind.  I was left alone in an examination room to wait for my new pet and the results of his x-ray.  Alfalfa returned about 10 minutes later in the tech’s arms.

“He was a bit squirmy for us…but, he did well,” the tech explained handing my guinea pig back to me.

“Give us a bit to read the x-rays and the vet will be back in to explain what’s going on…” the tech explained.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’ll let the vet explain to you the issues with his lungs…” the tech said.

“There is an issue with his lungs?” I asked with even greater concern.

“Uhmmm,” the tech mumbled back to me, “I’ll let the vet explain it.”  The tech quickly exited the room.

Little did I know that Alfalfa was in a potential life and death struggle as I sat there in there in the exam room….

Please come back next week for Part Two of this story…