I haven't taken a picture of Quib in months. This is an old one.
He's an old man now, mostly blind and deaf.
I decided he'd earned a peaceful retirement.
A while ago Quib developed a tumor on his cheek.
I took him to a vet, then another vet for a second opinion.
Guinea pigs don't fare well with surgeries, and he's going on 6.
We're going to let nature take its course.
The tumor changes all the time, getting bigger and uglier,
but Quib hasn't changed at all.
He's bright eyed and greedy and grumpy and snuggly.
He still reminds us that sleeping in on the weekends is only allowed
so long as it does not disrupt his regular snacking schedule.
He still cuddles in the crook of my arm
and burps in my face
and scrambles to the back of the couch
so that we're the same height while we watch TV.
In other words, Quib is still the best.
