For the Love of a Piggy

My precious baby Mocha passed away on Wednesday. Over the last few weeks, he struggled with two upper respiratory infections. But the worst news was when we found out he had a stone in each ureter and needed emergency surgery. We left him with our vet on Tuesday, with his surgery scheduled for Wednesday. Tuesday night, at almost midnight, we made a 20 minute trek to the vet office to visit him and to bring him his most cherished possession, his cuddle cup. The cuddle cup is about 3 years old, so worn and ragged from several washings, but he absolutely loves it. We spent about half an hour with him, taking turns holding him, feeding him blueberries (his favorite treat), singing to him (he always looked at me and purred when I sang the song from Dumbo, "Baby Mine," to him), telling him what a good piggy he was and how much we loved him. He purred away in contentment as we rubbed him and held him close. We asked the vet if it was ok if he had his cuddle cup with him so he had something familiar with him and she said it was fine. As I was preparing to give him back, I held him close and breathed in his scent several times. I felt at the moment that it was so important for me to just breathe him in. I looked at him and said "precious, you smell like Mocha." He purred, I told him I loved him...and that was the last time I saw him.

Wednesday afternoon around 1pm, our vet called and said he made it out of surgery, but that one of the stones went back into his kidney so she'd need to go back in for it in another day or two, but he was resting well in the mean time. Three hours after that, she called again...the first words out of her mouth were, "I'm sorry." She explained that his intestines started to bloat and they couldn't stop it...and finally he "went to sleep" as she delicately told me. She kept apologizing and through my sobs, I told her how much we appreciated that she did all that she could for him. The drive to pick up his little body was painfully long, but it was even worse when we got there and they handed me a little box with his name and a heart drawn on it. I also got back his cuddle cup. When we got home, I opened the box, took off the towel he had been wrapped in, held him close, and just cried. I think even the other piggies knew something was wrong as they all were incredibly subdued...and still remain so, Eggnog in particular.

Piggies can live anywhere from 5-10 years. Mocha would have turned 3 in June.

We've lost three piggies. One died in my arms, one died due to the fault of a former vet, and now Mocha. With each, we wrapped them in a shirt of mine so they'd forever be wrapped in Mama's arms. We also put in clippings from the other piggies' fur, as well as little things they loved. Mocha will be no different. And as much as I want to hang on to his cuddle cup, he deserves to have it with him. Some people can't imagine why I would do this. After all, I've been told, it's just a guinea pig. Why do I do it? Because I loved him. I adored him. He trusted me. He was not a disposable pet to toss to the side when things went downhill. He was a creation of God, entrusted to my care...and he deserved to be cared for. Mocha was an incredibly affectionate piggy with such a sweet disposition...and anyone who "could care less" truly doesn't deserve his love.

I realize that the entire world is not as passionate about animals as I am, and some barely even care. I realize that not everyone cares about creation in general. I think what saddens me even more is when Christians are the ones who could care less. We are the ones who should be front and center when it comes to caring for God's creation. Instead, many Christians look at me and Wes and we're considered "moderate" or "liberal" because of our beliefs regarding conservation...and some have used the term "tree hugger." For the record, I have no problems being a tree hugger...I do have problems with people who use that term in a derogatory manner towards me. When Adam and Eve were created, the first command was to be fruitful and multiply. The second command was a charge regarding our rule over the earth. Why do so many Christians happily accept the first command while completely ignoring the second? They're both in the same verse. I'm not saying that everyone needs to be right where I am regarding my passion for the environment. It just makes me sad that the very people who are called to be stewards of the earth are the ones who look down upon those who actually take the job seriously.

For you Lord of the Rings fans out there...remember Denethor? He was called to be the Steward of Gondor. He was to take care of the kingdom until the king returned. And what happened? He let it get to his head...he stopped caring about his kingdom and refused to give up "his" throne for the return of the king. He declined into madness. We, as Christians, have been called to be stewards of this earth with God as our High King. This world is not our own...it's not ours to mess up. And yet, some stewards could care less about it. While we are anxiously awaiting the return of Christ, what kind of earth are we having Him return to? Have we seriously declined into madness like Denethor and refuse to give up our throne for the rightful King? Are we really proud of what we're offering to Him? Can we stand tall when asked "what did you do in your role as steward?" When we chase after animals to scare them, throw things at another animal for fun, care less about the plight of an animal in need...stop and think about just Who created that animal...and Who we are hurting when we take delight in their suffering.

Mocha, I love you...and I feel blessed that God gave you to us...even for a short time.

Photos by Mary King

Little Wonders

Our lives are made in these small hours - these little wonders - these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours - these little wonders still remain.

Back in June 2004 I had the opportunity to participate in a tour at Disney World called "Dolphins in Depth." The three hours was devoted to learning about the dolphins, their anatomy, their training sessions, and their conservation (and conservation of marine life in general). Approximately 30 minutes of those three hours were spent in the water with the dolphins. I had always wanted to simply touch a dolphin. Touch one, that's it. And here I was, in a wet suit, in the water with two dolphins. There were eight of us on the tour and we split into groups of four and each group was with one dolphin. While my group was rubbing down a dolphin, he opened up his blow hole and sprayed me in the face. A couple of teen girls from the other group saw and were "eww"-ing themselves to death, while I stood there laughing and smiling. We all received photos of us and our dolphin and after the tour ended I told Wes that nothing could ruin my day. I couldn't stop smiling and my cheeks hurt tremendously. When I brought the photo to work after returning home, one of my coworkers commented on how truly happy I looked. I can honestly say that it was one of the happiest moments of my life and thinking back on the experience still brings tears to my eyes. Some people have looked at me like I am crazy..."it's just a dolphin and it was just 30 minutes!" But it's a really big deal to me.

I have wasted too much of my life looking for the next grand moment...the moment that will sweep me off my feet and take my breath away. You know, the moments that are Grand Canyon-like where my husband all of a sudden transforms into the hero from some chick flick where everything he says and does is perfect. But that isn't reality. The reality is that my husband and I are both sinners and we don't have someone writing a script for us where we can always say the right things at the right time. My life isn't a series of one grand event after another. It's a series of small events that have grand meaning in my heart. Yes, there are grand events that have happened in my life that were truly some of the best moments of my life. Getting married would be one of them. But I've also found that I need to pay attention to the little moments...the moments that may mean nothing to someone else or may not last very long. I can't let the moment pass, I need to treasure them because I can never go back in time and relive that moment. Sure, I may have similar experiences in the future, but I will never relive that exact moment in time.

I am camera happy and one of my favorite photo subjects are my guinea pigs. I spent about an hour on the bed with Eggnog one day as I snapped photos of the two of us together. Not the easiest thing to do when you're holding the camera with one hand and you have a critter who is anxious to explore. So many of my pics came out blurry. But I love them because it captured a moment we had together...a moment that I felt peaceful and happy. My favorite picture of that day was captured right when he licked my nose. It's horribly out of focus, but I don't care. I will never forget the feeling I had when he turned to kiss me. The same is true for the little moments I share with Wes. I'll never forget the feelings I have when I get an email from him, or he picks a little flower for me, etc. Those moments just seem to make the bad go away.

Grand moments are awesome, but it's the little moments that make up most of our lives. We need to focus on them, not ignore them while waiting for the next big thing. Don't just stop and smell the roses. Study that rose, know it, remember it....cherish it.

All of my regret will wash away somehow,
but I cannot forget the way I feel right now.

Dolphins in Depth photo by Disney
Eggnog & Mary photo by Mary
"Little Wonders" lyrics (in italics) by Rob Thomas

An Alternate Plan

Yesterday, on the way home from church, Wes and I talked about a troubled teen who has a response of violence any time things don't go his way. In fact, Wes had been pulled aside by the teen's mother and told "don't make him mad, he gets really angry." Naturally this raised concerns about working with a teen who is prone to violence. In the middle of the conversation, my mind went in all kinds of directions and I stopped and told Wes that I was about to sound like a selfish brat and then asked, "how is it that I can't have children?" The question was lost on us, but I felt the frustration in me rise. I couldn't understand why a home with people who would raise a child in Christ would be denied children and yet homes in which violence abounds have one or more children. Later yesterday I told Wes that I would love to have a boy and a girl, but I would just be happy with one. One.

And then last night happened. We have three guinea pigs who are on a special diet to prevent & combat bladder stones. One had surgery about a month ago and needs another surgery. He takes medicine five times a day. For the most part he has been good about taking his medicine, but the last couple of days I have had to semi-force the syringe in his mouth. Last night was one of those moments and it broke my heart when he squirmed and squeaked, trying to get away. Every few minutes, I hear cries of pain as he tries to use the bathroom. Today my heart dropped when I couldn't see him breathing and too afraid to touch him, I called out his name in a panicking tone. At the second call of his name, he perked up his head, eyes half open from being woken from a deep sleep (something he hasn't done in a long time). Immediately tears flowed out from my eyes as a wave of emotion came over me as I felt both scared and relieved.

This little one to the left and hanging out in the pumpkin is Eggnog. He has two brothers, Mocha and Coconut. He is also the one who is struggling with bladder stones. As I sat here trying to convince myself of how much more deserving of children I am than other people, God reminded me of this precious animal. And a realization came over me....
I am not responsible for the life of a child right now and I may never be. But I am responsible for the life of Eggnog and the lives of his brothers. They depend on me for their survival. They know me, they know my voice...they trust me. They know I will not harm them. They know if they get scared, they can bury their face under my chin and I will protect them. They know I will bind their wounds when they bleed, I will cradle them when they whimper, and I will comfort them when they mourn. I shudder to think of what would have happened to these beautiful creatures had they wound up being some child's "starter pet" (the idea of a starter pet truly upsets me). Would they know to rub Mocha in that special way that makes him purr or what way to hold him that makes him feel safe? Would they know how to watch Coconut's body language since he's a pretty quiet piggy or that he likes to be rubbed under his chin? Would Eggnog get the proper care he needs for his bladder stones and would they know his most favorite treat is watermelon? I'm grateful that I know them to know all of these things.

I held Eggnog in the bed today and we laid down together. He laid on a towel as he has been having trouble controlling his bladder. A few minutes into our quiet time (known as "Mama & Eggnog time"), he stiffened up and began to cry in pain. I knew this meant he was peeing. I gently rubbed his back and softly told him that it was ok, that I was right here. A few seconds later the crying stopped and he walked a couple of inches over to my face and licked my lips a few times. My heart swelled.

I can't honestly say that I am content in our no-children situation right now. But as I look into the faces of these beautiful animals who depend on me, I can't help but think that God has set aside this time for me to take care of them. Right now, they need me.

When I am tempted to ask why, I see this big hand pointing towards their cage and a voice that says, "Because."

Photo by Mary King (me)