Today is one of the saddest days of my life.
Today of all days, my beloved Cinnamon died.
Her teeth had over grow, so she ended up starving to death.
She lost a total of 12 ounces.
That may not seem like much to mere humans, but for a Guinea Pig that is almost life threatening.
She hadn't been able to eat anything for a few days, and she couldn't drink anything either.
Guinea Pigs cannot go for more than 24 hours without substance or their bodies start to shut down.
Cinnamon held in there for more than two days, bless her little self.
She had more fight in her than anyone else that I know, besides Granny Mary.
Last night I held her close to me for almost and hour, and I kept telling her how much I loved her, how cute she was, and how sad I would be if she left me.
Right now I am fighting back my tears, and I am not doing a very good job at it.
I was wearing my Cheetos shirt yesterday, and when it was time for me to go to bed, I put Cinnamon in a basket lined with a towel.
Momma said that she didn't look very comforted.
I told her it was probably because she couldn't smell me.
Momma then told me to go change and give her the shirt that I was wearing.
So I did, aqnd as soon as I put the shirt around Cinnamon's face, she relaxed.
She kept getting up and snuggling deeper into the shirt, the whole time she could smell me.
She ended up going to sleep within the depths of my shirt.
When I woke up this morning, I shot up out of bed and instantly went to go check on her.
When I shined the light from my DS on her, I saw that she wasn't breathing.
I was numb with shock.
I didn't know what to do, I just sat there and stared.
I knew that if I went to school today that I would not be able to concentrate on anything, and I was right.
I still barely can.
Daddy got up and helped me dig Cinnamon's grave.
She's buried right next to her sisters, Selena and Popcorn.
I'm not going to get another Guinea Pig, because it's just gonna be a vicious circle.
I'm going to have to be Sugar's best friend.
Cinnamon was my first pet, the first little thing that was mine to take care of, to love on, and to be loved by.
She knew who I was, whether by my voice or by my smell she knew.
If I was laying on the ground with her, she would try to get inside of my shirt to lay next to my heart.
If She was on the counter top and I was next to her, she would try and catapolt onto my shirt to lay on it.
If I started talking to her whilst she was in her cage, was would come up to the bars and try to sniff me or nibble on my finger.
No matter what, she always knew who I was.
In her own way she loved me back to the fullest she ever could've done.
I wrapped her in my Cheetos shirt and placed her in my shoe box.
So, my friends, you won't ever have to worry about seeing my Cheetos shirt again because it has gone to be of better use.
Cinnamon died with the smell of me in her little nose from that very shirt.
She was not but 2 years and 5 months old.
I miss her soo much.
And I know that you aren't supposed to pick favorites amongst your own children, but Cinnamon was my favorite only because she was my first.
I am sorry to those that I have made cry or feel sad by this, but you must know as to why I was not at school today, missing the FCAT.
Today of all days, my beloved Cinnamon died.
Her teeth had over grow, so she ended up starving to death.
She lost a total of 12 ounces.
That may not seem like much to mere humans, but for a Guinea Pig that is almost life threatening.
She hadn't been able to eat anything for a few days, and she couldn't drink anything either.
Guinea Pigs cannot go for more than 24 hours without substance or their bodies start to shut down.
Cinnamon held in there for more than two days, bless her little self.
She had more fight in her than anyone else that I know, besides Granny Mary.
Last night I held her close to me for almost and hour, and I kept telling her how much I loved her, how cute she was, and how sad I would be if she left me.
Right now I am fighting back my tears, and I am not doing a very good job at it.
I was wearing my Cheetos shirt yesterday, and when it was time for me to go to bed, I put Cinnamon in a basket lined with a towel.
Momma said that she didn't look very comforted.
I told her it was probably because she couldn't smell me.
Momma then told me to go change and give her the shirt that I was wearing.
So I did, aqnd as soon as I put the shirt around Cinnamon's face, she relaxed.
She kept getting up and snuggling deeper into the shirt, the whole time she could smell me.
She ended up going to sleep within the depths of my shirt.
When I woke up this morning, I shot up out of bed and instantly went to go check on her.
When I shined the light from my DS on her, I saw that she wasn't breathing.
I was numb with shock.
I didn't know what to do, I just sat there and stared.
I knew that if I went to school today that I would not be able to concentrate on anything, and I was right.
I still barely can.
Daddy got up and helped me dig Cinnamon's grave.
She's buried right next to her sisters, Selena and Popcorn.
I'm not going to get another Guinea Pig, because it's just gonna be a vicious circle.
I'm going to have to be Sugar's best friend.
Cinnamon was my first pet, the first little thing that was mine to take care of, to love on, and to be loved by.
She knew who I was, whether by my voice or by my smell she knew.
If I was laying on the ground with her, she would try to get inside of my shirt to lay next to my heart.
If She was on the counter top and I was next to her, she would try and catapolt onto my shirt to lay on it.
If I started talking to her whilst she was in her cage, was would come up to the bars and try to sniff me or nibble on my finger.
No matter what, she always knew who I was.
In her own way she loved me back to the fullest she ever could've done.
I wrapped her in my Cheetos shirt and placed her in my shoe box.
So, my friends, you won't ever have to worry about seeing my Cheetos shirt again because it has gone to be of better use.
Cinnamon died with the smell of me in her little nose from that very shirt.
She was not but 2 years and 5 months old.
I miss her soo much.
And I know that you aren't supposed to pick favorites amongst your own children, but Cinnamon was my favorite only because she was my first.
I am sorry to those that I have made cry or feel sad by this, but you must know as to why I was not at school today, missing the FCAT.
