We are sad to report that our beloved guinea pig, Nibs, died yesterday. I actually began to suspect a week ago that something was wrong--he was just acting a little off--but then we changed the cage litter and he seemed OK. Josh found him yesterday morning when he went to feed the little guy. Everybody was upset about it. I tried to think of a way out of being the one to bury the piggy, but finally I realized it was just one of those things a mom has to do. The younger boys dug a two-foot hole, we had a grave-side service, and put the box with the piggy in the hole and buried him. So far, no dogs have tried to dig him up. There's a little cross that Andrew made out by the grave.
Nibs leaves behind most of a bale of litter (just bought the stinkin' stuff!), a pound of food, a brand new bowl, a really cool little guinea pig house, a well-used cage, and a kitty who had just discovered his "company." Oh yeah, and three boys who did really love him, even if they had kind of forgotten it lately.
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