The news that a guinea pig farm is being closed down because of ‘extremists’ reminded me of a harrowing guinea pig incident that happened here not so long ago. I’m not going to get into the rights and wrongs of guinea pig farming but as some of you may already may know my life is either about my wife and our three daughters or their animals. Which include about 20 guinea pigs (all well looked after before anyone is tempted to throw paint over my car). They get all the fruit and vegetables that would have been thrown away (into the compost bin of course). They’re lovingly cared for by my children.
But sometimes they die.
I was working at home on a particularly hot day. My wife had taken some of the guinea pigs out of their luxurious Wendy House (yes, they have their own fully adapted Wendy House, waterproofed, the lot – even Sky TV) into the run to enjoy the day.
I was in the kitchen when a neighbour called out, ‘Mark, are they supposed to be doing that?’
I looked out the window and could just about make out 3 guinea pigs flat on their backs. I rushed out and soon realised that they were suffering from heat exhaustion. The piece of board over the run had slipped off so there was no shade for them to hide. I picked them up one by one and carefully placed them back into the shaded cage. I squirted water into their mouths in the hope that this would revive them.
But it wasn’t to be and I had to explain everything to my wife when she got home.
It was my fault of course. I had drowned them.
29/08/05 @ 21:07