Pinky.
You came into our lives as a science project. You came with your fuzziness and your cuteness, your happy squeaks and your calm purrs. When the project ended, you came as a member of the family, and you turned our world upside-down. For four years you were the family's heart. Through all the hardships we faced, Pinky, you kept us together with your constant pleading for carrots, your cute little dance, your refusal to use any of the exercise equipment. Pinky, you got through parasites and you got through baths, and came out stronger. You got through premature hair loss. You grew bigger, and stronger and smarter, but you couldn't get through this one. Finally it was time for you to go.
Pinky, you will be sorely missed. I can't walk by the empty cage without remembering your sweet squeak. Why didn't we play with you more while we had the chance?
Pinky, I know you're home now, in some big safe jungle full of other pigs. I'm sure you're happy there, eating all the carrots you want and with no kidney stones to make you cry. But when I think about that last carrot and apple sitting uneaten outside your pigloo last night, and think that was the last carrot you ever even nibbled, I can't help but cry. You were the family's heart, the constant through all the hardship; where will we be without you? We loved you, Pinky, with a pure unconditional love. I hated cleaning your cage every week, but the thought of never doing it again brings me no joy at all. You were a good friend. You were a good pet. But most importantly, you were, as we always said, a good pig. Rest in Peace, Pinky. Rest in Peace.
