The Prodigal

On Saturday, June 14, 1997, our usually laid-back male guinea pig Hoppy (or Hopscotch) was outside in the "browsing cage" (a floorless, heavy wire-mesh cage which can be moved about on the lawn in the constant search for greener pastures). Evidently Hoppy decided he needed to explore rather farther than the cage's confines that afternoon. When his primary caretaker (Dad) went to bring him in before the evening's chill--the CAGE WAS EMPTY! He had apparently managed to lift up one side and scoot out under it. None of our four lady guinea pigs had ever done this, but Hoppy, weighing in at a whopping two-and-a-quarter pounds, must have had enough brute strength to lift the structure--and take off for REALLY greener pastures.

What a busy and sad next few hours. We called; we searched (shudder) the little pond and crawled under the porch and nearest bushes with flashlights in hand. We piled a variety of tempting foods on the lawn. We brought out the lady guineas and had them sing tempting songs. Nothing. We left the treats in the browsing cage, covered it, put Hoppy's house and water in it, and hoped.

Sunday morning, he wasn't there. So before church, and in the evening, we tried again to find him. Again, nothing. What a sad Father's Day it was. The word "Happy" just didn't fit.

Before I go further, you must realize that we really do live amid 5 acres of evergreens. Over four acres of this has been left wild and natural; and on either side and behind our property are many more natural acres. Our undergrowth is quite heavy in many areas; and that, in combination with the hundreds of broken branches and treetops that came down in last fall's ice-storm, makes it close to impossible to see the ground in most areas (let alone walk around!). If you like math, try figuring out the ratio of square inches of guinea pig top surface to the number of square inches in just four acres of land (or double that for a more likely range of space covered as the days go by).

On Monday, Sunshine thought she might have heard a "squeek" as she sat on the lawn with the lady guineas. But she couldn't see him, and couldn't really tell what direction the sound came from. After that, the days went by with no more clues. We looked; we sat out with the lady guineas; and Dad went out each evening after work to listen and look and walk around sadly hoping. And every day we knew in our hearts that Hoppy's chances of survival were lower and lower. Yes, there is a lot of tender green stuff to eat. But there are also some larger creatures out there who just might prefer a diet that includes guinea pig. Yes, rabbits do have a similar lifestyle and diet, but can we really believe that they might take in a lost guinea pig?

There came nights of rain, with the temperature in the low fifties; Hoppy had almost never gotten wet--only for a bath or two in warm water; how could he survive this saturating weather? I knew in my heart that there was really no hope he'd come back; and the chance of finding him was ridiculously small. In my mind I was trying to decide when to approach the family about a "memorial" gathering to acknowledge our fondness for a little creature we'd never see again. It's hard to know how long to wait.

Meanwhile, life continued on and there were other pets to care for: the dog, the cat, the parakeets, the fish, and the four lady guinea pigs. They all have their own needs for attention and food, and each requires a different type of interaction.

Our dog, Galahad, for instance, is a high-energy "big red dog." We believe he is a golden lab/Irish setter mix; and we know he's at least 5 years old. But he is still in the puppy stage of life. A hundred pounds of "puppy" gets to be quite a challenge when you're connected to him with only a fifteen foot leash! That sounds like a long leash until you're among lots of trees and snags on a primitive path through the woods! Then it's just short enough that you can't quite keep up, yet long enough to do some rather sophisticated interweaving around tree-trunks!

Yesterday, Galahad almost outdid himself in the tangling department. I haven't been walking him recently because I'm having some problems with my back; but yesterday morning was beautiful, and I was the only one available. So I latched his collar to the leash and, reminding him to go gently and slowly for me, set out with him. He forgot my instructions every few seconds, so I had to keep telling him over and over to slow down. After some not-so-delicate negotiations, we balanced out reasonably well, but I was glad when it was time to come back for breakfast.

At one point along our "trail," he decided to stop and do his "squirrel sighting" act. This involves getting very excited (and, usually, tangled around trees) and indicates that sometime in the last day or so, a squirrel was probably within 20 feet of the path, horizontally, and within 20 feet of the ground, vertically. It's rather non-specific, but he seems to feel very heroic about the potential discovery. We very seldom actually see the creature whose supposed existence leads to this energetic pastime. The search pattern does, however, tend to keep at least a few trees actively (if that's possible?) involved. On this occasion, I looked into the area he was investigating, but all I could see was the normal tangle of plants and branches. He finally decided "treat" and "breakfast" sounded good, and I got back to the house where we both settled down. I felt like I'd already done the day's work; Galley just ate, relaxed, and smiled (yes, dogs do smile when they've had a good time).

A couple of hours later I heard the bark that means "I REALLY need to go for a walk!" again. This time, I delegated the task to the girls. Again, the "squirrel sighting" act. A few hours later, again the "URGENT" message; and again, the energetic "squirrel sighting" routine. By the fourth time he called in one day, neither of the girls really wanted to be at the other end of the leash (hey, this stuff's hard on the shoulders!). But Sunshine, bless her sweet heart and reluctant feet, agreed to go out with him one more time.

About two minutes later, even through the closed door, Rainbow and I could hear Sunshine screaming frantically for help. Rainbow is fast, and was out the door before I could even manage to get up from my chair where I was working on (believe it or not) a page for this newsletter. The screaming stopped when Rainbow reached her sister--before I even got to the door--and the situation looked to be well in hand. Galahad had probably gotten tangled around a tree while investigating, and he needs reassurance, and sometimes more than one person's involvement, when his own (often frantic) efforts to untangle the problem don't work. (He sometimes tries to go around the "other way" to undo the problem, but, more often than not,accidentally goes the same way again, getting himself into a regular "double bind," as you might say.)

Rainbow stayed out with Sunshine, and I assumed they were going to continue Galley's walk together. But within minutes Rainbow was back, coming in the door wearing the most peculiar expression. Her face captured my attention immediately: she was rather glowing, her eyes reflecting amazement, her smile full of anticipation, and, in general, so full of something she looked ready to burst.

Then I looked down at what she held in her arms. A little gold and white bundle looked out at me with dark round eyes. Hoppy! That's why Sunshine, now hurrying back to the house with Galahad, had screamed for help! Galahad's "squirrel sightings" had all been in the same area, and now his strange insistence on taking so many walks began to make sense. He had found Hoppy's sheltering place and was showing us over and over what he'd found! But we hadn't been able to see through the branches and leaves what he could smell. On that last walk, Sunshine had seen a flash of white, and knew instantly what she was seeing-- thus her urgent scream for help. As Rainbow rushed to her side, the situation was quickly explained, and Sunshine held valiantly onto Galley to keep him from helping too vigorously while Rainbow maneuvered among the bushes and branches to scoop up the frightened, tired, and hungry little creature trembling there.

We celebrated for hours last night. Galahad was showered with praise and notified of his "HERO" status. Hoppy, who had lost a huge amount of weight (he was down to one-and-a-half pounds), just wanted to sit still or be held at first, but later was willing to nibble some salad greens and a bit of carrot. The returned wanderer was the center of attention for a long time, but we did lavish affection on the lady guinea pigs too*--after all, THEY had behaved well and stayed out of trouble! Rainbow slept right next to Hoppy's cage so she could hear him if he needed anything.

This morning, he's actually doing some of the hopping that gave him his name, and his appetite is much better. I believe he's going to survive this ordeal. I do wish I could interview him to find out what he actually did out in the wilds on his own for nearly a week! Wouldn't that be a story? Well, the Prodigal* is home, and all's well that ends well.

For more about guinea pigs, check out Sunshine's House. Also read below for some Hoppy History. If you're ready to adopt a cyber guinea pig, make sure to look at Sunshine's adoption page. Maybe you can guess which piggy there is modeled after Hoppy! I'll give you one hint--it's not this one. This is Platinum Piggy, the one I adopted from Sunshine's House.

Does 1 ever equal 5? The one is my little Golden Guinea Pig who came from a pet store to live with us on August 3rd, 1996. She continued to look like "one" for a few weeks, but after a while she became a very large one. She got so round she looked like a huge puffy pancake! We were extremely suspicious by the first part of October.

Then, on Saturday, October 5th, the math happened: We peeked into her little home that evening and Yes! There were four more big-eyed fluffballs, "popcorning" all over her and each other! Maybe you can guess what they look like (and where they live) by their names: Rainbow's Woolly Bear, Sunshine's Cinnamon, cousin Garrett's Sunny, and, of course, Dad's (famous) Hopscotch!