Is there anything as blissful has munching on green grass stems? I think not. Today I was given an entire bale of Timothy hay all to myself. Not that I ever have to share, mind you. That’s the benefit to being an only-guinea pig.
The hay was doled out in response to my squeaking about something…I forget. I don’t remember if it was important or not. But Mrs. Liz apparently thought so because she brought me a big pile of hay. Not a giant pile… Those are rare. But a big one.
Ah, I remember the days when she would give me a Giant Pile of hay every day. That was back in the early days when she was still trying to get me like her. Needless to say, I fell in love at first touch. She pet me for an hour, and that’s when I knew I’d found home. But I didn’t complain about being daily awash in good old Timothy stems. She kept it up for two weeks, and after that, we both knew I could never go back.
Nine days ago exactly we celebrated one year together. I lived somewhere else before that. With another owner who liked me a lot too. And another guinea pig. She was my best friend. I had to share my hay with her, but I didn’t mind. And then came that fateful day when the dog broke into our cage and ate her. It was a traumatizing experience. The smell of dog breath still makes me purr.
Mrs. Liz didn’t do anything special to celebrate our one year together. She wasn’t here for my fourth birthday, either, back in August; she was off celebrating her own birthday. We share the same day, see. Anyway, she didn’t celebrate my birthday much, and she didn’t celebrate our anniversary, but I’m not fussed. I completely forgot about it until today anyway. That’s the kind of mind I have. I would forget my own ears if they didn’t flap in front of my eyes.
Yesterday, Mr. Nic brought me upstairs—upstairs! Where they have soft carpeted floors and a big bed I can crawl under. I love being under the bed. So dark and homey.
He put me on top of the bed this time. In Mrs. Liz’s lap. I got to wake her up by sitting there and staring meaningfully into her eyes while she stroked my nose. I think she knew what I meant. We have good interspecies communication. We kithe.
Well, if you don’t mind, diary, I’ve got to get back to my hay. Can’t let Mrs. Liz catch me writing; she likes to come snap photos of me. What can I say; I’m a good-looking guinea pig. Redheads are the best-looking of the bunch.
Ps. I almost forgot the entire reason I was writing to you! I discovered a new favorite pastime today: burrowing in the woodchips. It is so much fun! I get woodchips all over my nose and that itches, but I have found that I can dig deep holes and hide my head in them. And eat the woodchips. I already knew woodchips were a nice snack—good for sharpening the teeth—but they taste even better when you’ve dug them out from under other woodchips.
What can I say? I’m a genius.
Word count: 560.