I remember the day we met, almost five years ago. My mom and I were in the pet store, you and another guinea pig were in an aquarium in the top shelf. I picked you because you were so unique to me. I had never seen a guinea pig with a single rosette, right in the middle of their forehead. You were so funny looking.
I brought you in your box to the cash register and they horrified me by saying, "You can get a full refund if you bring back his body." But on the way home, I sat there with you moving around in your little box on my lap, I knew everything would be okay. And I was so happy.
Things were so different back then. I was still living in the dorm, and guinea pigs were contraband. I had to teach you to be quiet all the time. You would say, "Wheep! Wheep!" and I would say "shhhhh," and then you would be safe and quiet.
I had to teach you other things too. Like not to pee on the bed. And to Never, Ever chew on the power cords. And I taught you to climb up into my hand whenever you wanted out of your home. It was not a problem back then, because you fit perfectly into the palm of my hand. When you got bigger, you figured it all out, though. You would run over and scramble up, putting your hands up on my wrist and then walking your back legs up into my fingers.
Guinea pigs are not the most graceful creatures, they have short little legs that were not meant for jumping. But you never figured this out. Sometimes you were so excited you would try to jump into my hand. You always missed and I would laugh at you while you squirmed around, trying to get into my hand the proper way.
You were a traveling guinea pig, for sure. You and I drove across the country several times. I must have driven six thousand miles with you, or more. People always laughed when they saw me put the seat belt across your cage to buckle you in. But, you know, nothing ever bad happened when I was driving with you. I never even had to slam on my brakes hard. You must have been my good luck charm.
And you were always so wonderful about new experiences. You took all the driving in stride, and you were so patient when I carried you around to new places. People would come up and say, "What's that?" and I would explain that you were a guinea pig. "Does he bite?" I would smile at that and say, "Little Adric never bites." Strangers would hold you and you were such a good boy, you were always quiet and didn't squirm. You let them pet you and feed you frozen peas, your most favorite treat in the whole world.
You loved to run around, free, on the floor in my room. I loved to watch you, on those short legs you looked so strange to me. You would chase after anyone who would walk through the room. And if they stopped, you would stop and maybe lick their feet. Silly Adric. And sometimes Clark would chase after you, and you would run away and try to hide. And when the game ended, and Clark left the room, you would say, "Wheep! Wheep!" because you were so happy and wanted Clark to come back and play some more.
Our last week together was a good one. I spent extra time with you, petting you and feeding you frozen peas and berry flavored nibblers. I could see that you weren't feeling so good, but you always perked up and you were always so cheerful to see me. You got to eat your favorite things, and run around on the floor, and get chased by Clark, and chase him as he left the room. You got to chew on your magazines, and your Hershey wrappers. And you always climbed up into my hand.
Yesterday, I sat there, with you perfectly silent in your little box on my lap. And I said goodbye to you. And I was so sad.
I miss you Adric. It's okay, Little One.
It's been a week now, and I am still lost without you.
I come home from work and expect to turn the corner and see you. In the evening when I am getting ready for bed, I think about you and wonder if you'd like some more frozen peas. At night, I think that every small sound is you. I open my eyes, but you're not there.
This morning I got out of bed and accidently tipped over the glass of water on the floor. I thought of you. You were always getting into trouble by tipping over my water. Remember the time you tipped over my glass and discovered it was apple juice? You were soaking wet and soon to be sticky and I gave you your first bath in the sink. Boy, you hated that! But it never stopped you... You kept tipping those cups over like nothing ever happened. And I never learned to get them out of your way.
I miss you so much Little Adric.
A month has passed, and I still think of you every day. I still cry for you.
I wish I could stroke your fur. You were so soft, your fur so shiney. You would stop whatever you were doing when I pet you, you would even stop chewing. But you weren't one for hanging around. You had things to do, places to run. I remember laughing at you as you zipped like a gray bullet from one end of my room to the other. I was amazed that your little legs could carry you so fast.
You made me so happy. I wish I could have you back. I would put my finger right in the middle of your forehead rosette and you would look at me like it meant something. I know you are in a good place now.
I had a dream about you last night. I dreamt I traveled a long way, on a road with little traffic. I parked my car, got out, crossed the road. I walked in a long, wooden, covered bridge. My footsteps echoed in the tunnel.
I arrived at a room, sat down. You were scampering about on the table. Coming up to me, I would pet you, then you would walk away, other things catching your attention. I didn't mind. You came close again, and I ran my thumb from nose to forehead, trying to straighten out your rosette like I used to do when you were alive.
I knew I would have to leave soon. I missed all the times I had you next to me in my car, your traveling box seat-belted into the passenger seat. I knew I would have to leave alone this time.
I woke up, my heart sore. You will always be in my heart, Little One.