I adopted Twix in the summer of 1998, as a companion for Hershey. Fearing that she was lonely, I spoke to Judi Lainer (of the Washington area guinea pig rescue) about getting either a neutered boar, or another sow. When Hershey and Twix first met, it was like love at first sight. However, it was several weeks before Twix came to live with us, and it wasn't until late September that the two of them could live in the same cage. But, once the adjustment phase was over, Twix and Hershey became inseparable. When Hershey departed in March of 2002, Twix spent several days in confused shock. But, being a pig who enjoyed life and all it had to offer, he emerged fairly quickly.
Twix was very outgoing and friendly. "Laid back" and "easy going" would have been the quickest ways to describe his personality. When I come home, he would go to the highest point in the cage to see what I was doing, and give me a hello squeal. He liked to explore the area around him, and he loved to know what was going on. Some pigs would sit in your lap for a long time, but Twix was too restless for that. Twix was a pig of action. After a few minutes he would be squirming out of your lap and trying to explore whatever he could find. His signature routines included rattling on the cage bars (to the point of great annoyance), and sitting up "groundhog style" at the hay racks.
From what Judi told me, he used to be quite a ladies man (which is why she had to keep him in a cage by himself until he was neutered). He mellowed over time, but he was always a real smoothie. With his highly expressive face, wide vocabulary of purrs, chirps and squeaks, and his happy-go-lucky ways, Twix was a real charmer.
Which is fortunate, because in most other ways he was as dumb as a rock. He was the "Forest Gump" of guinea pigs.
In spite of his charm, Twix was always camera shy. Judi managed to get this good facial shot of him shortly before I brought him home. He was roughly nine months old at the time.
Twix passed away on April 3, 2003. I personally believe he had a stroke, and the complications it caused were what took him. Here is a paraphrase of the announcement I wrote for him, and shared with some friends in the local animal loving community.
Twix, 1997-2003
April 4, 2003My little top-knotted clown passed away last night, shortly before 11 PM. He seemed lethargic yesterday morning, but not enough to cause much concern. However, when I got home from work yesterday, he didn't look at all well. He was having trouble moving, eating was apparently difficult for him, and he wasn't making any sounds. I immediately made an appointment with Dr. Schwartz, who was going to try to see him today (preferably) or tomorrow (worst case).
About a month ago I noticed that he had started moving funny; his back legs didn't seem to be working very well. He could walk, but he had acquired a pronounced limp. I took him to Dr Schwartz about this, and he gave me instructions and medications for nursing him. Personally, I think he had a stroke. On the whole, he seemed to be coming back. He had good days and bad days, just like anyone else, but he seemed to roll with it in his usual, easy-going way. Even just a few days ago he was his typical noisy, curious, cage-rattling self. I'm thinking now that Schwartz's instructions served only to make his last few weeks more comfortable. If that's the case, then it was worth it. He only went really downhill in his last 24 hours. If it was a stroke, I'm guessing that it created complications and his little body couldn't fight back any more.
Around 8 PM last night, I somehow knew he wasn't going to hold on much longer. I had him on a bed of old towels next to me while I worked at the computer. I was standing vigil. Over the course of the evening, his breathing became more labored, and he moved less and less. I could tell that he was in pain, and yet he was still fighting to come back. At about 10:50 he started to tremble (I had him in my lap at the time); even then he was fighting to come back. So help me, I whispered to him "It's OK little guy, just let go." He left quietly, just before 11 PM. I still had him in my lap.
I'm actually relieved that he went on his own. I don't like the idea of having an animal put down, though if he had made it to the vet today, that's how it would have turned out.
He was five and a half years old; not a bad run. Except for that spell with mites a few years back, he was a happy little guy the whole way through. He never seemed very smart, though I had to wonder, because he could be very clever when he wanted to be. My friend Gerald thinks he just liked to play dumb. Whatever the case, right from the day I brought him home from Judi's, he had his own notions about things.
He was an independent minded little guy, right up to the very end. Twix left when he was ready, and on his terms. That's an appropriate finale for him.
Still, I'm certainly going to miss the little troublemaker.
I didn't have a full autopsy done on him, but Dr. Schwartz did look him over. He believed it was complications from the stroke, and simple old age.
Lisa and I buried Twix on Saturday, April 5th. We buried him in front of a large, forked maple tree on the bank of the Patuxtant river, not far from where I live. It's a place I like to go hiking. I told Twix to just follow the river to Rainbow Valley. Of course, knowing him, it will take him a while to get there, because he'll want to explore and examine every nook and cranny along the way!
Godspeed, my little friend.
Last Updated: Mar. 18, 2010