Free To Be Me in 350!: A Tribute to Gus, by FamousDiva

On January 5, 2011, Mannigus Prime passed away from natural causes. Purchased on July 4, 2009, for the purpose of being set loose in a fraternity house, Mannigus was rescued by FamousDiva and lived the remainder of his life in her home. He knew she had saved him, and they had a connection ever since. Whenever FamousDiva walked into the room, Gus squeaked with joy. He enjoyed playing in his hut, chewing on his edible log, and running around the apartment. His favorite pastimes included eating carrots and spinach, watching movies while cuddling with FamousDiva, and long walks on the beach. He is survived by his stepmother, FamousDiva. He was preceded in death by his stepsister, Harley. A funeral service will be conducted after the spring thaw.

On January 5, 2011, the Diva Residence suffered a horrific event. Gus, my beloved guinea pig, passed on to eat the Big Carrot in the Sky.

Though his death was hard, it was not shocking. A few days earlier, I noticed Gussy was not making his normal squeaking noises as I entered the room. Instead, he was making a whimpering sound. His food and water were untouched. He was not running around like his typical guinea-pig self in anticipation of carrots and spinach. He wouldn’t eat any food out of my hand and he turned his head away whenever I tried to give him water.

Google and guinea-pig-owning-friends all told me the same thing: Gus was dying. I didn’t know what to do, so I simply held my Gus and watched tv while he laid in my lap. I enjoyed every last minute I could with him. Before going to bed I returned Gus to his cage, all the while feeling guilty for having to leave him alone. As I laid him down, he slowly went into his green hut. I turned off the lights and said, “Goodnight Gussy! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I had to work in the morning, and what do you know, I overslept. I was in a rush. I quickly put fresh food in the cage, saw Gus sleeping in his hut, went to the door, and said, “I’ll see you when I get back, Gussy!” I braced myself throughout the day for whatever condition Gus might be in when I returned home.

Sure enough, when I arrived home, he had passed. His lifeless body lay in his hut. Although I was sad, I was now preoccupied with a new problem: What the heck am I supposed to do with a dead guinea pig?

I called my friend, Big Papa, and told him the news. Since BP is my best guy-friend, I expected he would be there to sensitively comfort and assist me in the removal of his body.

BP-“Hey, what’s up?"
Me-“Um…..Gus is dead.”
BP-“……I’m sorry to hear that FamousDiva.”
Me-“Yeah…I don’t know what to do with him.”
BP-“Fry him up for supper.”
Me-“NO! I am not about to fry up my dead pet!”
BP-“Well, have you ever had guinea pig?”
Me-“No.”
Bp-“It might be pretty tasty.”
Me-“No. Will you come over here and put him in a shoe box for me?”
BP-“No! Gross.”
Me-“You are no help.”

Now what? I couldn’t exactly flush him down the toilet, and I wasn’t about to throw him in the dumpster. So I did what any grown woman would do in this situation. I called my mom.

She suggested I ask my Aunt and Uncle, who live nearby, to come over and help. How ridiculous, I thought. I can take care of this myself.

I hung up the phone and scoured my house for anything I could find that would be helpful in the removal of my pet rodent. I came up with the following: Pink rubber gloves, 2 different sized shoe boxes, plastic bags, and an odor-absorbing garbage bag.

I took a deep breath, removed the top of the cage, and sat down next to it. I reached in and removed the green hut with Gus inside. He looked like he was sleeping. Yes, I thought, he is just sleeping. I kept repeating to myself, he is just sleeping, he is just sleeping. Just pick him up like he’s sleeping and set him in the box and it will be done.

The moment of truth. He’s just sleeping…he’s just NOPE not going to do it.

He is solid. And stiff. I put the pig down, threw off my gloves, and called my mom.

While waiting for Aunt and Uncle to arrive (I guess it wasn't so ridiculous), I answered several phone calls from concerned friends responding to my Facebook status of “RIP Gus You were a great guinea pig.” When Aunt and Uncle arrived, I was in tears. They hugged me, and then shared a laugh with me as they admired my makeshift funeral home complete with bags, shoe boxes, and pink gloves (I'm FamousDiva, of course I have pink cleaning gloves).

Uncle walked over to the cage.

U-“You sure he’s dead?”
Me-“Um..yeah pretty sure.”

I looked away, and heard rustling noises.

U-“Yep he’s dead. Pretty stiff.”

And with that, the deed was done. Thank you, Uncle, for taking care of the lifeless body of my rodent, and thank you, Aunt, for being there for support.

After a movie and dinner with BestFriend, I returned home to a different apartment. It’s crazy the effect that little guinea pig had on me and the aura of my apartment. Before I went to bed, I shut off the light in the living room and said, “Goodnight Gussy!”

Then it hit me. I’m no longer going to wake up to him and his little squeaks. I’m no longer able to hold him and have him lay on my lap while I’m relaxing and watching tv. I’m no longer able to hear his cute little sounds while he eats a carrot. My Gussy is gone.