Okay, that's not even remotely true. Pigs are pigs, and people are people, and this blog isn't even about pigs, it's about guinea pigs. Yes, guinea pigs: America's favorite pet rodent and Peru's favorite main course (actually, judging by their size I would probably only consider them to be appetizers). Guinea pigs have taken up a surprisingly large role in my summer this year, and I wanted to bestow upon all of my readers the privilege of hearing ALL about it. Can't wait? That's what I thought.
So, flashback to the beginning of the summer. I am three months younger, and about to launch into a summer-long house sitting gig. The family that lives here is spending the summer in a home on the East Coast.
When first offered the gig, I hesitated as they have two rather high-maintenance dogs (one elderly and medicated, partially blind and deaf, and hardly mobile and the other a young, spritely and large dog not yet aware of his own strength). However, they informed me that the dogs would be venturing east with them, causing me to do a little jig of victory internally.
Then I remembered... the dogs weren't their only pets. Cookie the Guinea Pig also lived in the house I would be watching. I anxiously asked if Cookie would be going with them, too- I had no desire whatsoever to take care of any creature beneath that roof besides myself. My heart sunk a bit when I found out that Cookie would be my responsibility, too. I fully anticipated a very half-ass effort on my part just to keep the thing alive, but quickly I realized my affinity toward the creature.
Cookie has a personality just as well defined as any other living being I have come across. He is laid-back, cares about eating way more than he should (often to the point of prioritizing it above his own safety), is relatively quiet but still makes those charming little squeaks from time to time, and will happily sit on my lap while watching TV and just relish in being stroked. Cookie and I became fast friends, and so attached that I began to worry about our eventual and inevitable separation. Actually, anyone who knows me was worried about it too- I was attached like a conjoined twin to this furry little critter.
I began to wonder if all guinea pigs are this rad as pets. One weekend, the neighbors asked me to watch their guinea pig, who shall not be named (we will call him Bob just to make this easier to understand. He doesn't deserve more than a generic name like that [no offense to my readers named Bob. It's a pretty good name for a person]) while they went out of town. I agreed. Bob came over and quickly demonstrated that no, not all guinea pigs are rad as pets. Some are just horrible.
First of all, he was a jerk to Cookie and that is just not cool. No one messes with my baby! Yikes, can you imagine what I would be like as a mother? I put them next to each other for a quick photo op and Bob quickly attacked. Screw you Bob. That instantly put him on my most-hated list. That's not a list that anyone wants to be on.
Also, he squeaks to this volume that seems absolutely unbelievable coming from his tiny body. In no way are these cute, quiet squeaks like Cookie's- no, these are more like blood-curdling shrieks. I also decided that Bob was trying to sabotage me. As I recorded a guitar song and was finally happy with my take, he squealed in the last five second and ruined it, as if he were just waiting for the end to do so. Whatever, I posted it anyway so joke is on him. Or maybe he won that round, whatever. Click here for the song, and wait for the squeak at the end.
Okay, I just realized how ridiculously long this post would be if I made it just one, so I'm going to split this bad boy and make it a two-parter.
So, flashback to the beginning of the summer. I am three months younger, and about to launch into a summer-long house sitting gig. The family that lives here is spending the summer in a home on the East Coast.
When first offered the gig, I hesitated as they have two rather high-maintenance dogs (one elderly and medicated, partially blind and deaf, and hardly mobile and the other a young, spritely and large dog not yet aware of his own strength). However, they informed me that the dogs would be venturing east with them, causing me to do a little jig of victory internally.
Then I remembered... the dogs weren't their only pets. Cookie the Guinea Pig also lived in the house I would be watching. I anxiously asked if Cookie would be going with them, too- I had no desire whatsoever to take care of any creature beneath that roof besides myself. My heart sunk a bit when I found out that Cookie would be my responsibility, too. I fully anticipated a very half-ass effort on my part just to keep the thing alive, but quickly I realized my affinity toward the creature.
Cookie has a personality just as well defined as any other living being I have come across. He is laid-back, cares about eating way more than he should (often to the point of prioritizing it above his own safety), is relatively quiet but still makes those charming little squeaks from time to time, and will happily sit on my lap while watching TV and just relish in being stroked. Cookie and I became fast friends, and so attached that I began to worry about our eventual and inevitable separation. Actually, anyone who knows me was worried about it too- I was attached like a conjoined twin to this furry little critter.
I began to wonder if all guinea pigs are this rad as pets. One weekend, the neighbors asked me to watch their guinea pig, who shall not be named (we will call him Bob just to make this easier to understand. He doesn't deserve more than a generic name like that [no offense to my readers named Bob. It's a pretty good name for a person]) while they went out of town. I agreed. Bob came over and quickly demonstrated that no, not all guinea pigs are rad as pets. Some are just horrible.
First of all, he was a jerk to Cookie and that is just not cool. No one messes with my baby! Yikes, can you imagine what I would be like as a mother? I put them next to each other for a quick photo op and Bob quickly attacked. Screw you Bob. That instantly put him on my most-hated list. That's not a list that anyone wants to be on.
Also, he squeaks to this volume that seems absolutely unbelievable coming from his tiny body. In no way are these cute, quiet squeaks like Cookie's- no, these are more like blood-curdling shrieks. I also decided that Bob was trying to sabotage me. As I recorded a guitar song and was finally happy with my take, he squealed in the last five second and ruined it, as if he were just waiting for the end to do so. Whatever, I posted it anyway so joke is on him. Or maybe he won that round, whatever. Click here for the song, and wait for the squeak at the end.
Okay, I just realized how ridiculously long this post would be if I made it just one, so I'm going to split this bad boy and make it a two-parter.
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