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]]