Domino and Buttercream - Saying Goodbye and Hello
Hey, baker friends. It’s been a while since I’ve written about my pets and personal life here, as I’ve been mostly focused on recipe development. But, it’s been a big week in the Dupuis house for humans and guinea pigs alike.
Losing Domino
Very sadly, I need to start off this post with some unfortunate news. We lost our sweet Domino this past Thursday. It was somewhat unexpected, as she was only 3 years old. But, that happens with little animals like piggies sometimes. It can be really difficult to notice signs that a small animal isn’t doing well until it’s too late.
I had noticed that one of the guinea pigs was having some sort of strange-looking droppings last weekend. I did some googling and attributed it to the fact that the pigs had been fed more carrots than usual and a different brand of hay - guinea pigs have sensitive digestion and any diet changes can set off issues. I assumed it was actually Teddy, since she’s older (about 5 years), and has had various minor health issues in the past. So, I decided to keep a close eye on their droppings and make a vet appointment if nothing changed.
On Tuesday, I noticed that the pig’s cage was a little smellier than usual - I clean their cage daily and don’t usually notice much of any smell, so this was worrying. I took Teddy out of the cage and examined her thoroughly, and everything seemed to be fine, so I decided to do the same to Domino. Upon doing so, I noticed that she had blood on her rear end and my heart sank. I cleaned her up and quickly told my husband and we rushed her to the local emergency vet’s office.
A stressful few hours of waiting later, we were told that the exotics vet was out of the office doing an emergency surgery and Domino was being seen by a different doctor. Guinea pigs are considered exotic pets and many vets don’t know much about them. I was slightly dubious about it, but figured any vet was better than none, especially since there wasn’t any chance of us getting an appointment with another exotic vet on such short notice. A few minutes later, they called us into the exam room for a chat.
The vet seemed very unsure. She said it *might* be a urinary tract infection or it *might* be uterus issues, which aren’t unusual for guinea pigs. They gave us some antibiotics and anti-inflammatory meds for her and sent us home. I was anxious and concerned.
The next 24 hours were spent in a state of constant worry. I checked on Domino regularly, but she mostly slept in one bed and didn’t seem very interested in eating. She seemed unbothered when I picked her up to give her her medicine, which was unlike her. Her spunk seemed to have faded fast. She ate a small piece of lettuce that second night, which gave me slight hope…but not much.
On Thursday morning, she refused to eat any vegetables or even move. Dan and I decided another visit to the emergency vet was imperative. As I lifted her out of the cage and into the carrier, she drooped in my hands. She seemed to have no fight left. The emergency vets rushed her straight to the exam room and gave her oxygen. The exotics doctor was there that day, but to no avail. She told us that Domino was already in a state of shutting down and she seemed ready to go. But, if we wanted them to do everything they could, we could shell out a few thousand dollars for a last attempt. It wasn’t an easy decision, but we decided it was time to say goodbye.
They brought Domino out to us wrapped in a blanket and we tearfully gave her her last head scritches and told her how much we loved her before handing her back to the doctor. It was clear as I held her in my arms that she wasn’t going to be able to hang on much longer. We never did find out what exactly went wrong.
The next two days were tough. I sat next to the pig’s cage and talked to Teddy quite a bit. She seemed okay, but confused. When I brought Domino’s empty carrier into the room, she seemed like she was expecting to see her friend again and squealed loudly. It broke my heart. We knew we had to get a new friend for Teddy quickly. Guinea pigs are incredibly social herd animals and don’t do as well alone, especially when they’ve been with another pig their whole lives.
Meeting Buttercream
Saturday was the big day. I did research around our area but couldn’t find any guinea pigs for adoption that seemed like a fit for Teddy. So, we ended up having to go to a pet store, which I wasn’t too happy about. I don’t like to support pet stores. But, pet store piggies deserve a good home too, and I knew we could find a good friend for Teddy there. So off we went.
When we arrived, I peeked into the cage of guinea pigs and saw three piggies. Two smooth-furred brindle and white girls sleeping in the corner…and then our baby. A precious gray-brown and white abyssinian, her fur poking out in every direction and her velvety pink ears flopping as she sipped energetically at her water bottle. I knew she was the one. The pet store employee scooped her out of the cage for us and she let out an ear-splitting squeal - I knew she would be a tough one to tame, but that didn’t matter to me. I just wanted Teddy to be happy.
I set up a playpen for the girls to meet on our library floor adorned with wooden tunnels, fresh veggies, and a big pile of hay. I let the new baby out first. She stayed frozen in one corner, too confused to move around much. She’d had a big day. I sat next to the playpen with Teddy on my lap, hoping she might see the baby and want to investigate through the bars, but she was too excited about the vegetables to even care! So, I set her in the cage and waited eagerly.
A minute or two of veggie-munching later, Teddy finally found her way around the hay pile in the middle of the pen and spotted the new baby. She immediately waddled over and started sniffing her face - success! A lot of guinea pig meetings result in chasing, chittering, and other communication to figure out the pecking order of the new herd member, but it’s so much easier when one is a little baby. Teddy very quickly took on the role of mama pig and started cleaning the baby’s ears and eyes, even sharing a snow pea with her. I was so grateful, and the baby seemed to be as well. Upon watching her explore her surroundings, I mentioned to Dan that her goofy peaks of silky brown and white fur reminded me of marbled buttercream, and he said he couldn’t think of a better name - and so she was dubbed Buttercream from then on out.
Since then, Buttercream has been doing fantastic. As I expected, she’s definitely not very tame yet, but that’s just fine. I spend a portion of each day sitting next to the cage and talking to the pigs while they eat their vegetables so she can get used to my presence. The next step will be trying to get her to eat some vegetables out of my hand. It might take a while to get there, but she’s already learning so much from Teddy (like squealing for veg whenever the fridge opens!), so hopefully trusting us will be one of the things she’ll pick up.
It’s definitely still difficult looking into the cage and not seeing Domino’s familiar fluff waddling around. Knowing how happy Teddy is to have Buttercream and watching them interact helps a bit, but losing a pet is never ever easy. Nor is getting a new one so quickly after the trauma of saying goodbye. But, guinea pig feelings don’t work quite the same as human ones I suppose. For Teddy, a friend is a friend. So we’re happy to accept that and show as much love to our new little friend as she does. Welcome to the herd, little Buttercream!
