Well, here is the prose piece about the demise of George the First 😭
It's written from the perspective of me when very young and it's not something I'd usually post on the 'sphere. They're loving it in Winchcombe, which tends to be a sign it's a little bit homespun, lol. I do think there's a market for homespun, though. Anyway, here goes...
Carrots and Cuddles
"I'll dig a hole, I'll dig it deep."
David Callin*
It was Saturday. I woke early as usual, but I had to wait until 7 o'clock to get up, also as usual. Dad always said there was no need to get up any earlier. Once he'd put a big board across my window, between the glass and the curtains. Mum told me it was to see whether I'd get more sleep if the room stayed darker for longer. I didn't, though. I'd just put on my light and read a book for about an hour.
Once up, I skipped along the landing, past Mum and Dad's room and the bathroom, and went into my younger brother Adrian's room, the largest. My older brother Graham and I had never minded that his bedroom was largest because we liked our smaller rooms. Graham's had a bay window, where he could sit and look up at the stars when it was night-time. I thought I had the best view, of the garden and the woods. Well, unless Dad's big board was in the way.
Graham was already in Adrian's room, playing with Koala. He'd made a sort of robe for Koala, using a bit of a sheet. We were all laughing. Then we heard Mum and Dad coming up the stairs together. They came in and said good morning and then they looked serious. Dad said to me, "Nutcase, you'd better sit down."
Then Mum spoke. "Now, I'm afraid we've got some bad news for you." Her voice broke a little and she looked sad.
I was frightened. "What is it, Mummy?"
Mum took a deep breath and reached for Dad's hand. "Well, I'm so sorry to say this, but George has died." She started to cry.
I started crying too. Adrian just looked at me, but Graham put his arm around my shoulders. "What happened?" he asked Mum.
"A fox," Mum told us. "It was quite early in the morning and I heard noises in the garden, something coming and going. I thought it might be burglars, but when I looked out of the window I couldn't see anything. Something just seemed off. So I went downstairs, I found Dad's big torch, and I went into the garden."
"Dad's big torch," Adrian said, smiling. He'd always liked the big torch.
"Yes, Tots," said Mum. "Well, Dad's big torch helped me up the path and I'd just reached the flat lawn when I saw George's dining room door was open. And then—." Mum couldn't go on, because she'd started crying again.
Dad squeezed her hand and took over, in a quiet voice. "Your mother went up to the hutch and saw that something, most likely a fox, had managed to open the door. I was asleep through all this, but she came back in and told me. I got a brown paper bag from the drawer and my trowel from the garage, and then we went back out together."
"Oh, that poor guinea pig," Mum sighed. Tears poured down her face. She fished a tissue out of a sleeve and blew her nose loudly.
"Poor little chap," Dad agreed. "He was in his dining room and I'm afraid we were too late to help him. So I put him in the bag and then I went to get my spade."
"Your father made such a good deep hole for George," Mum told us, managing a sort of half-smile. "He went 6 foot deep! I found a nice shoebox, the one they gave me at Marks & Spencer's. I put in some of our dried flowers, Nutty, so it all looked very pretty. So now George is asleep and dreaming about all the happy things he enjoyed during his short life. You know, when he used to have carrots and, and cuddles and things."
I knew Mum was trying to make us happy, but I kept crying. Graham cried a bit too, although he did his best not to show it. I wiped my nose on my pink pyjamas.
"Oh no, poppet, tissue," Mum said. Dad left the room and returned with the blue loo roll from the bathroom. Graham and I took quite a lot of it. We were sad.
"It's like when you have some sweets," Adrian told us. "Sometimes, you might lose them."
We were confused for a moment and looked at our younger brother. He grinned and nodded.
"Yes, that's right," said Mum. "Sometimes we do lose things. It's hard, but with a bit of time we can start to feel better again."
"He was such a smart chap," said Graham. He coughed and blew his nose.
"Yes, he was," Dad agreed.
I said, "He was shiny too."
"That's right!" Mum nodded. "Smart and shiny. And do you remember when he came in and did his droppings all over the kitchen floor?"
We laughed a bit then. It had been quite funny, especially as George had done so many of his little droppings. Dad had said he looked proud.
"Come here." Mum stretched out her arms and we all went in for a hug, Koala too. "You're my brave children," she told us, "and once you've all got dressed, we'll go up the garden so you can see the nice resting place Dad has made for George."
Once dressed, we went up the garden. It was a nice sunny morning. We passed the sloping lawn, the flat lawn, Dad's vegetable patches, the rows of fruit trees, and the shed. Right at the top, there was a small mound and a tiny cross above it, which Mum had made using two twigs.
Graham and I started crying again, but not as much this time. Dad said we'd have a prayer, so we all put our hands together and closed our eyes.
"Dear Lord," said Mum. "Please take into your care our dear guinea pig George, whom we loved very dearly. Please make sure he has somewhere nice to play, with lots of carrots and cuddles. Amen."
"Amen," we said together. Graham asked, "Is George in Heaven now?" and Mum said he was. We stood for a while longer, under the trees, beside his grave.
🥕🥕🥕
*Recalled from a poem posted in 2017, possibly. Apologies to David C.
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