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For the last couple of weeks, the McKinney family has been on a journey of despair and exultation. Our little boy guinea pig, Satchmo, stopped eating suddenly one day. We knew immediately something was wrong. Though he doesn't quite have his sister's ferocious, hysterical appetite, he enjoys dining on a delectable repast of all things vegetable. So when he declined that hearty helping of salad, we were immediately seized with a 5-alarm panic attack.
We brought him to the vet, and after he was probed, gassed, endoscoped and X-rayed, our vet noticed that he had a small sore spot under his chin that might be turning into an abscessed tooth. With a few rounds of antibiotics, Satchmo would likely start to feel better and eat again within a couple of days.
Just one problem with that prognosis. Satchmo used his reserve tank of freakish strength to defend himself against the necessary oral injections. And he didn't start to eat again. In fact, his weight was rapidly diminishing. Back to the vet, we procured some Nutri-Cal, which the doctor assured us would temp him with its luscious caramel-like flavor and help him pack on the pounds again. Satchmo was too clever for this, though, and used the "spewing baby" trick on us every time we tried to syringe some of the nasty stuff into his mouth.
Desperation, and back to the vet. The doctor gave us some pain killers (in oral syringes, of course, because we were so accomplished at giving oral injections.) It had been more than a week since this whole thing began, and all Satchmo had managed to eat was a little cucumber here and there and whatever Nutri-Cal we could sneak down his throat. But, thanks to God and the miracle of modern veterinary medicine, the pain killers did the trick! Since Saturday, Satchmo has cleaned his plate every night, and he has started to gain back some of his weight. As an added bonus, the vet gave us some Oxbox Critical Care formula, which Satchmo can't get enough of! He'll be back to roly-poly in no time.
Clay and I have agonized over our sweet little boy's illness. We are physically and emotionally exhausted. And it hasn't been so great for Chandelier, either. Every time we take him out of his cage to doctor him, she is convinced he's being treated to a spa day/kumquat feast. We have been at the vet, calling the vet, or picking some concoction up from the vet's office almost every day. However, we have hung in there, prayed very hard, and finally learned the age-old art of syringe feeding. We hope when Satchmo goes for his check-up this week, his doctor will give him a clean bill of health once and for all!
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