Content warning for pet death. That’s what this whole post is about so absolutely skip if you don’t want to be sad today.

^{(Chichi at about a year old with his “mom”, grown up Chichi, Chichi and his best bro Mocha)}

Last October one of my daughter’s guinea pigs, Chichi, died. Her other pig was sad for a couple weeks but otherwise living his best life. He was pretty old for a guinea pig, though, and over the weekend he just . . . got sick and died. He died early this morning, probably of pneumonia. He didn’t seem like he was in pain, just sick and extremely tired all of a sudden, and at that age he just couldn’t bounce back from a major illness.

He was a great pet; they both were. Guinea pigs are adorable and energetic and make all sorts of cute noises. My daughter loved every moment with her piggies. Their biggest drawback is them living only four to eight years (Chichi lived just over six years) and being prone to things like bladder stones and respiratory problems. I’m pretty tough-minded about pets, but this is a sad day for us and I’ll really miss those little guys. Our pet corn snake is fine and will probably live happily for several more years, but it’s just not the same as having those squeaky little piggies snuggle up and eat out of your hand.

Next week I’ll have all sorts of happier things to talk about, but not today. Today is for missing Chichi. Until next week. –Corvus