They say “only the good die young” so I must have been a very good guinea pig. After the problem with my eye my carers were always touching a particular area on my back. At first I didn’t notice anything and then after a few weeks it started to “tingle”. I always loved to demonstrate how strong I was by lifting the little hut we used as our bedroom. I would push my nose under a corner from inside and then push myself out from underneath. As the tingling got worse it became much harder to push myself through the gap. Then one day I felt something liquid run down my side. Our carer seemed different, liquid ran from her eyes and she held me very close. Once again I was taken to see a new lady in a white coat. The lady seemed to like me at first but then she started poking and prodding me. She squeezed the tingly area on my back. It hurt a lot and I screamed. My carer couldn’t bear to watch especially when they stuck a big needle in my neck. Afterwards I felt very tired. We went home but I wasn’t allowed to return to the family cage. I had another cage next door with just paper bedding (no shavings or hay). Each day my carer would repeat the torture…but that was nothing…Worse still was that I couldn’t go out to play with the others or cuddle my brother. I was very sad. I lay in the corner and wasn’t interested in anything. I didn’t understand why I was being punished like this. My visits to the lady in the white coat became more frequent. After the third visit I was allowed to spend my days with my family in the outdoor cage on the grass. I was so happy to be able to touch and talk to my friends. After being alone I really appreciated their company more than I had before. They were glad to see me too. We danced and sang for joy. Eventually I was allowed back in our indoor cage and I felt like things were getting back to normal again. Our carer squeezed my back less often and I felt ok most of the time. Sometimes though I had a strange feeling like someone was calling me. I would stand very still and listen and I felt very tired. In the mornings I found it hard to face the day. Before I’d always been first up, bursting out of the bedroom, interested in everything. Not now. Things seemed harder somehow.
Forward to Tommy's Story Chapter9