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juushikaToday was Kuzco's vet appointment, down at Southwest Animal Hospital, where Alfie (and Dink) went a number of years ago. Verdict: He's on more medications than any beast in the house, now, but will most likely be fine. Unless he continues downhill, it looks like my initial concern—lost tooth was bothering him, so he was avoiding food—was correct: he has a few other health issues, but they're on account of being an old pig; it's mostly the food issue, which has left him underweight and a bit dehydrated.
He got his teeth trimmed (the other three incisors had grown scraggly and pointy because he hadn't been wearing them down; his molars were fine) and is on meloxicam, an anti-inflammatory/painkiller, so his teeth shouldn't bother him anymore; he's on acidophilus and metoclopramide to improve digestion and stimulate appetite; he's also getting Critical Care to replace the hay and pellets he's been avoiding. In short, a guinea pig get fat quick fix. The first round of squirting medications down his throat was messy, but now—well it's still messy, but he's greedily sucking down Critical Care so yay.
Critical Care smells exactly as you'd expect: quasi-semi-digested guinea pig food. For some reason it had gained a certain infamy in my mind as the superfood you force-feed your guinea pig to prevent the worst from happening; it rather lives up to expectations. It's stinky and goopy and gets everywhere and Kuzco actually loves it.
And—and this sounds awful, but—Kuzco and I have always bonded over his trauma. With a guinea pig that's almost necessary, because terrified can be their de facto state. But Kuz has always wanted cuddles most after being at his most vulnerable, like a bath or when I check his stomach and boybits. The syringes don't traumatize him anymore—quite the opposite, he was pretty hyped up over the last round of Critical Care—but we've always bonded over his vulnerability and being hand-fed his delicious nom noms and helpful medications is pretty much exactly that, and so it feels oddly ... right, in a mostly non-exploitative way, to care for my old man pig like this.
The vet was exactly what I needed. It's out of the way (in a Portland suburb) and isn't as cushy as the vet we use for all the other beasts, but it's exotic-specific and I felt confident putting Kuzco in their hands. There's also something rewarding about talking pigs with someone who's part of the pig club, and knows all about necessary diets and the correct size of poop and how they're still cute even if they're 90% sure you're about to kill them RIGHT NOW.
He didn't even pee on anyone, bless.
4-times daily Critical Care feedings means no Corvallis trip for now, but I'm okay with that. We've reached a lull in pet stress: Kuzco is perky and already filling up and taking well to the many syringes; Gillian is in limbo between finishing his antibiotics and waiting on viral tests (they want us to wait two months before restesting, due to incubation periods), so he'll have more bathroom-only time followed probably by supervised time roaming the house only when August is enclosed in a separate room, a compromise which means we won't have to worry about cat socialization efforts just yet. There's daily upkeep but it's manageable and I don't have to pay another vet another hundred dollars within the next few days and guys, I will take what I can get.
He got his teeth trimmed (the other three incisors had grown scraggly and pointy because he hadn't been wearing them down; his molars were fine) and is on meloxicam, an anti-inflammatory/painkiller, so his teeth shouldn't bother him anymore; he's on acidophilus and metoclopramide to improve digestion and stimulate appetite; he's also getting Critical Care to replace the hay and pellets he's been avoiding. In short, a guinea pig get fat quick fix. The first round of squirting medications down his throat was messy, but now—well it's still messy, but he's greedily sucking down Critical Care so yay.
Critical Care smells exactly as you'd expect: quasi-semi-digested guinea pig food. For some reason it had gained a certain infamy in my mind as the superfood you force-feed your guinea pig to prevent the worst from happening; it rather lives up to expectations. It's stinky and goopy and gets everywhere and Kuzco actually loves it.
And—and this sounds awful, but—Kuzco and I have always bonded over his trauma. With a guinea pig that's almost necessary, because terrified can be their de facto state. But Kuz has always wanted cuddles most after being at his most vulnerable, like a bath or when I check his stomach and boybits. The syringes don't traumatize him anymore—quite the opposite, he was pretty hyped up over the last round of Critical Care—but we've always bonded over his vulnerability and being hand-fed his delicious nom noms and helpful medications is pretty much exactly that, and so it feels oddly ... right, in a mostly non-exploitative way, to care for my old man pig like this.
The vet was exactly what I needed. It's out of the way (in a Portland suburb) and isn't as cushy as the vet we use for all the other beasts, but it's exotic-specific and I felt confident putting Kuzco in their hands. There's also something rewarding about talking pigs with someone who's part of the pig club, and knows all about necessary diets and the correct size of poop and how they're still cute even if they're 90% sure you're about to kill them RIGHT NOW.
He didn't even pee on anyone, bless.
4-times daily Critical Care feedings means no Corvallis trip for now, but I'm okay with that. We've reached a lull in pet stress: Kuzco is perky and already filling up and taking well to the many syringes; Gillian is in limbo between finishing his antibiotics and waiting on viral tests (they want us to wait two months before restesting, due to incubation periods), so he'll have more bathroom-only time followed probably by supervised time roaming the house only when August is enclosed in a separate room, a compromise which means we won't have to worry about cat socialization efforts just yet. There's daily upkeep but it's manageable and I don't have to pay another vet another hundred dollars within the next few days and guys, I will take what I can get.
