Sunday, June 30, 2013

Ruby Rides Again . . .

Too bad it was back to the exotic vet!  Ruby is kinda like a cat . . . she has nine lives.  And she keeps deducting years off my life, which is pretty damn unfair.

I thought this was going to be the last picture of my sweet little piggy . . .
She's a fighter . . . so glad I didn't give up on her!
This was her at the exotic vet Friday a week ago . . . what you can't see is me sobbing uncontrollably in the corner thinking she was going to die. 

Why did I think that?  Oh, because they gave her a less than 50% chance of survival and offered to euthanize her.  No, hell no, you will NOT!

The back story . . .

I gave Ruby all of her meds for a week . . . she was like a piggy rock star!  She was a new girl . . . eating, drinking, pooping and generally putting on a rodent show of hilarity. 

But after three days off her meds, she started to slow down her eating and drinking again.  I panicked and started her meds back up on the fourth day to no avail. 

For lack of a better description, she acted seriously drunk.  She couldn't really walk without falling over, she couldn't get herself back up if she fell, and she couldn't even get her head to work right to take a drink from her bottle.  It was so freaking sad. 

Thursday night I held her for two hours because she appeared to be having seizures, and it seemed to be easier on her if I held her kinda tight so she didn't fall over.  Even her eyes were twitching . . . so scary.  I just cried and cried.  Getzy didn't know what to do with me.

I called the vet from Girl Scout camp on Friday morning, and they didn't have an appointment until that afternoon. I hightailed it out of camp at the end of the day, grabbed my piggy and whisked her off to the vet.

Now one of her medicines was a 7 day prescription, and one was a 14 day prescription.  She was doing so well that I figured after 7 days she was just fine and stopped all meds.  WRONG. 

Turns out the one I stopped early was the antibiotic . . . and clearly I made a bad choice.  Would I stop it for my child?  No.  But hell, it's a guinea pig.  I didn't think it would be a big deal . . . I was the guinea pig savior, right?  Apparently not.

The vet informed me that they are very delicate, and that perhaps I had created a super virus that had made it's way to her brain by stopping the antibiotics course early.  Kill me now . . . I could have caused this?

When my sobbing got out of hand at this news, he also offered the option that she could have a brain tumor.  That usually happens later in a guinea pig's life, but she was showing signs of brain issues.  Even the vet tech who saw her first thought it was cerebral. 

They did make a point of telling me that I have done more than most guinea pig pet owners . . . at least until I almost killed her. 

I tell them to give me the strongest drugs available along with more subcutaneous fluids.  I asked how long before I should see an improvement . . . 24 to 48 hours.  If there wasn't any, then I could bring her back to be euthanized . . . he let me know they had Saturday hours and were open again on Monday.

As you can imagine, the first question Getzy asked me when I get home was not, "How is Ruby?"  It was "How much did it cost this time?"  My answer . . . less than last time!  Bam!
My heart was breaking at the thought that I could have done her harm when my intentions were so good.  So the Ruby vigil began and even into Saturday morning Getzy was convinced she'd had a stroke . . . it seemed while she had perked up a little, her bag legs were just not working.   

And then finally, the guinea pig gods smiled down upon us!  When I was getting ready for my night out on Saturday, I took Ruby upstairs and locked her in the bathroom with me.  I set up a little guinea pig therapy course . . . things laid about to intrigue her. 
Guinea pig therapy . . .
And her little legs started working again . . . praise the sweet baby Jesus.  She puttered about the bathroom floor but mostly she just kept coming back to nibble on my shoe and anklet.  She knew I needed her to show me she was on the road to recovery . . . little did I know I was going out for my 40th birthday surprise party!
Hey, nice anklet.  Oh thanks Ruby, I know!
She likes to sit on the deck with me in the mornings while I have my coffee . . . I think the fresh air is good for her health.  It's part of her wellness plan. 
I think Ruby needs some coffee too!
She is on her second week of medicine and thankfully doing just fine . . . she loves to be dropper fed and makes it so easy on me.  She's eating her salads and hay just fine on her own, but I like dropper feeding her the Vitamin C and critical care food!
Peel the grapes and feed me lady!
So here's my PSA for you today . . . DON'T get a guinea pig.  They will break your heart . . . you will fall in love first and then realize how much work their proper care really is.

They need loads of love and affection, or they can get depressed.  They need their cage cleaned out a lot, otherwise things start to stink.  They need fresh fruits and veggies to supplement their diet of guinea pig food and hay. 

Don't get me wrong . . . I have professed my love for Ruby time and time again . . . but the parent has to want a guinea pig because it's more than a child can be expected to handle.

So to keep her safe, I've decided to get Ruby this new outfit . . . I just can't be too careful these days. 
Ruby the Warrior Princess!
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  1. Oh my goodness! Poor Ruby and mama! But I had to lololol at the outfit! Precious.

  2. Oh my. We just added a new family member this afternoon, a fancy bear Syrian hamster. Hoping I don't have such drama ahead with Liberty (aka Libby Peanut Covington). LOL

  3. Wow! Too bad Warrior Princess Ruby didn't make it in the yearbook!