08/22/2025
Sir Alfred of Bromley died yesterday. I found him just before work, cold in his box. He was just fine in morning. It was a clean box with plenty of water and food. He was here just for a short period, only four days. In that time, he wiggled his way into my heart, as it was so nice to have a little fella to talk to and hold. Coming home to silence and no little Sir Alfred Bromley was so sad.
We found him by the bank of Bay Minette Creek, Buck and I. We had taken Bromley Road to Stockton, and Buck wanted to stop by a creek he swam in as a child. We walked down to the creek and I heard a squeal in the bushes. I looked over, and there was Sir Alfred, a little round ball of white and brown fur fluff. He scurried around and would not let us catch him. This was Saturday. There was an angel number on the bridge, 555; to me, that was a message from the Universe. I tried to catch him, but I had no luck. There was another little Guinea Pig with him, and he would not come out.
We left them both out in the wild, under a bridge. Guinea Pigs don't live in the wild, so someone must have dropped them off. I saw him as a gift from the Universe and looked up the spiritual meaning of a Guinea Pig. They represent vulnerability if found or seen in the green grass, a sense of freedom, still vulnerable but free and not being experimented on. I identified with this meaning as I have felt like I have been being experimented on, and now I am on the verge of freedom.
The following day we stopped back by to check on Alfred, and sure enough, as soon as he heard my voice, he started squealing again. This time, he let me catch him, and I knew he was destined to come home with me. I looked for his buddy for the longest time to no avail. I felt terrible leaving his friend behind. The two guinea pigs represented Lilly and Savannah to me. Lilly is ready to play and outgoing, and Savannah refuses to come out and only wants to hide. Eventually, we had to leave even though it was hard for me.
I carried Alfred into Walmart to pick up his supplies, Timothy Hay for food, bedding, and a water bottle. He settled in nicely for the night. The following day, he escaped his box and scared me terribly. But he came back and all was well until today, when he died. I am sure he must have been sick or sustained injuries from his time in the wild, and there wasn’t anything I did wrong. However, it still hurt.
The lesson in this is that the Universe or God gives and takes. It’s important not to waste another day. I could die at any time, and Sir Alfred is a reminder that life is fleeting and we shouldn’t take it for granted. To quote Tim McGraw, it’s important to live each day like we are dying.
