I didn't have that guinea pig for two weeks, and I had to return her. I had her for hardly a week, at that.
I waited to name her to see if she would get better; she had gone into shock from the transisition into live with me, and she got better. I named her. I thought we were clear.

I picked her up and found blood. Finding the source, I called the Petstore where I got her, and the specialist said she'd never heard anything like that in her entire line of working there. I called the vet, and they were no help. As a last resort, I looked it up on google. Immediatly after that, I ended up bringing her back to the Petstore, with the healthiness guarantee under us.

My original intent was to buy her back when she was healthy, if she got healthy. But the time it would have taken to get her back was several months. I hate myself more than anything to say I gave her up, with my selfish desire to raise a guinea pig from the ground up, and got another one.
I will be calling the Petstore to find out about her condition.

The other one is a little older, a lot more skittish and jumpy. At first glance, she is solid black, but in certain lights it gets rusty red patches. [If you know my character Rustshade, that's exactly what I thought of.] She's remarkably soft, and has a cute face.

Regardless, it surprised me how attatched I grew to Savannah after I named her. With several days of planning out the perfect name for her, and just playing with her. I miss her so much already. Maybe if my parents will let me, i'll buy her back and keep them both. But I think something internally happened with Savannah, but I know she didn't fall or anything.

I hate myself so much right now.