Originally written December 2013
Ziva was one of the little residents of our guinea pig village.
They had their houses, their garden, their places to hide and explore, and—as anyone who has ever loved a small animal knows—somehow these tiny creatures can occupy a surprisingly large part of your heart.
By December 2013, Ziva had been unwell and had suffered enough.
I knew letting her go was for the best.
Knowing that didn’t make saying goodbye any easier.
My Facebook post that day was only a few lines:
“Rest in peace Ziva. I know it’s for the best—you’ve suffered enough—but I will miss you.
I love you, Zivey.”
There really wasn’t much more to say.
She was only a guinea pig to anyone looking from the outside.
But she wasn’t only a guinea pig to me.
She was Ziva.
One of ours.
And she was missed.
S
Stories Along the Way 