Today is six months since Hugo left us to go to the Rainbow Bridge. Although he left me earlier in the week to go and stay at the vets first. He had new-monia, and needed special medicine and special air but he didn’t recover.
Mummy gave me a long time to say goodbye to him when she brought his body back to us. I’m glad she did that. I’d been with Hugo most of my life. From about the age that the Ds are now. He was a funny boy. Took over everywhere, got everyone running round at his command. Knew exactly where the fridge was that keeps the cucumber cool. He bossed me about a bit when I was young but once I grew up I told him I wasn’t going to stand for that any more and he sort of accepted it. He always thought he was in charge though, so it was quite hard for him when we came to live with Mummy and he found Fred was already number one pig. I think they got on pretty well considering.
Although we had a smaller cage at Mummy’s Hugo had the complete run of the place. He even started out walking from the cuddling room to the kitchen but after a while he just used to keep control of the kitchen. He said one step was enough. Although I always remember how he disappeared over the side of the cage one day about a month before he left us, because he wanted to go into the garden where Mummy was. She found him climbing up the steps in the garden as she came back in with grass for us. Always up to stuff, that was Hugo.
Six months is three and a half years in piggy time. That’s a long time.