What I Talk About When I Talk About Guinea Pigs
I never wanted to become one of those people who's crazy in love with their animals. The lone excuse would be a dog. I've dreamt of having my own dog since I was a child and I expected that to be my next, natural move as far as pets go. I had a dachshund growing up who I adored beyond words - when he died in 2007 it was one of the hardest things I've ever experienced.
I played on and off again with the idea of buying a guinea pig. I was very close over the summer, but I couldn't rationalize it. A dog was too expensive and impractical for my studio apartment, PLUS I couldn't help the notion a 24-year-old woman does not own a guinea pig. That's a pet suited for children. And I couldn't imagine- telling my coworkers, taking a date to my apartment. "Yes, that's my guinea pig over there. Do you want to read some comic books now?"
...
This all changed in January, when my girlfriend and I went to Petco after dinner one night. I had told her of my guinea pig existential crisis, and how I might (someday) cave and buy a brown one, which I'd name Mocha.
She started taking me to pet stores to look at the pigs. We'd watch them through the glass and laugh at their furry faces. I was tempted to buy one but I never did. Money is always a concern and I basically exist paycheck to paycheck. I'm not complaining but that's my reality.
Anyway, that evening I saw an animated white guinea pig with brown spots who reminded me of a guinea pig I had as a child. Plus, she was so lively! I put my finger on the glass and she stood up on her hind legs, with her nose in the air.
"She's so cute!" I gushed. And I ended up holding her, and so did my girlfriend.
"Are you two thinking of buying her?" the nerdy pet store guy asked us later. I was insistent we were "just looking," but my girlfriend had other plans.
"We'll take her," she announced. I looked at her, in total awe. In fact, I was in awe the rest of the evening. Not only was this kind of a big step for us- but also I hadn't owned a pet since high school, really. I was somewhat unprepared.
"Really?" I clutched the guinea pig close to me, who was both tiny and rambunctious, not wanting to sit still (note: this hasn't changed). She nodded. My girlfriend routinely amazes me and that's a reason I love her so much.
I held the guinea pig for a while as she discussed preparations with the pet store owner.
"We're getting paper bedding." I was confused; I'd always used cedar chips in the past (I've owned three guinea pigs during my earlier life). "Your allergies."
You have these moments where you feel so loved it's hard to believe. Yeah, that was one of those moments.
We took the guinea pig home and she named her "Smores," due to her coloration. I'm notoriously bad with names- I named my last guinea pig "Pigg"- so this was a good decision. We stopped at a grocery store to pick up veggies for Smores. I held her and talked to her so she could familiarize herself with my voice. The little animal was terrified. A girl walking into her car next to me saw the guinea pig in my arms and smiled.
In the past, when I've owned pigs I haven't been a devoted pet-mother. I've seen them as pets, little goofy beings I share my living quarters with, but I've also handled them immaturely. Because I was a child. As an adult with guinea pig, it felt different. Smores wouldn't drink her water at first and I worried about her. We both worried about her, taking turns giving her water with an eyedropper.
I thought about her at work. I worried about her. The little guinea pig was so defenseless against the world- bottom of the food chain. We were all she had.
"Smores!" I'd yell when I came home, dropping my bag and rushing to her to see if she was still alive. I checked her nose and eyes religiously to see if she was okay. She always was. If anything, I probably confused her with my attentiveness.
Smores began drinking her water, eating more food and loosening up. Which was when my girlfriend decided we should get another one.
"She'll get lonely," she reasoned. I knew she was right- except for weekends, I am not home that much. Guinea pigs are social creatures. I relented: Okay. We could get another guinea pig.
Mocha showed up a few days later. She was even smaller than Smores and so dark I could barely see her face.
I realized the name's implication as well.
Smores and Mocha seem to get along, like female guinea pigs generally do. Due to perhaps Mocha's size - and Smores has BLOWN UP since we brought her home, my god- and her general shyness, Smores has become the dominant pig. She reiterated this by humping Mocha several times. I did not know female guinea pigs did that, or animals in general. But I have glimpsed into that cage several times and seen Smores riding Mocha like a mechanical bull. Perhaps they are just lesbians. ...
It's a little bewildering to me, though, how attached I've gotten to these little pigs. I look forward to them squealing at me when I walk through my door in the evening. I like letting the cage door open and having them bounce around my apartment, sniffing everything (and occasionally grazing on carpet). How I honestly love these creatures.
Yeah, they can be pains in the ass and they go through a lot of food. They squeak at night and have peed on me several times. But they're lovable animals with their own personalities. Smores is outgoing and fearless (for a guinea pig). Mocha is reserved and likes to burrow. They play leapfrog with each other, rub noses and sometimes fight.
I worry about them as if I had given birth to them (that would be disgusting). I have this irrational fear of a cat or snake breaking in and hurting them, which would cause me to maim said imagined cat or snake. I asked one of my best friends to please knit pig sweaters. She did. The pigs are not fans of the sweaters, but they look adorable in them regardless.
Sometimes I feel like I am becoming that weird pet person, but I have my criteria for my pig-craziness. I am easily stressed, riddled with anxiety and I sometimes feel pretty adrift. I have been living in Phoenix for over a year now, and I quite like it, but my social sphere is small and my family is far away. This does wear on me now and then. I just dreamt my mom came over to help me clean, but I know that's unlikely to ever happen.
Even when I was home, I felt disconnected and shut-out. Hence, the pigs have become a makeshift nuclear family for me, along with my girlfriend, who is hands-down the most important person in my life.
So when I talk about my guinea pigs- like I tend to do- I'm talking about a lot more.
I played on and off again with the idea of buying a guinea pig. I was very close over the summer, but I couldn't rationalize it. A dog was too expensive and impractical for my studio apartment, PLUS I couldn't help the notion a 24-year-old woman does not own a guinea pig. That's a pet suited for children. And I couldn't imagine- telling my coworkers, taking a date to my apartment. "Yes, that's my guinea pig over there. Do you want to read some comic books now?"
...
This all changed in January, when my girlfriend and I went to Petco after dinner one night. I had told her of my guinea pig existential crisis, and how I might (someday) cave and buy a brown one, which I'd name Mocha.
She started taking me to pet stores to look at the pigs. We'd watch them through the glass and laugh at their furry faces. I was tempted to buy one but I never did. Money is always a concern and I basically exist paycheck to paycheck. I'm not complaining but that's my reality.
Anyway, that evening I saw an animated white guinea pig with brown spots who reminded me of a guinea pig I had as a child. Plus, she was so lively! I put my finger on the glass and she stood up on her hind legs, with her nose in the air.
"She's so cute!" I gushed. And I ended up holding her, and so did my girlfriend.
"Are you two thinking of buying her?" the nerdy pet store guy asked us later. I was insistent we were "just looking," but my girlfriend had other plans.
"We'll take her," she announced. I looked at her, in total awe. In fact, I was in awe the rest of the evening. Not only was this kind of a big step for us- but also I hadn't owned a pet since high school, really. I was somewhat unprepared.
"Really?" I clutched the guinea pig close to me, who was both tiny and rambunctious, not wanting to sit still (note: this hasn't changed). She nodded. My girlfriend routinely amazes me and that's a reason I love her so much.
I held the guinea pig for a while as she discussed preparations with the pet store owner.
"We're getting paper bedding." I was confused; I'd always used cedar chips in the past (I've owned three guinea pigs during my earlier life). "Your allergies."
You have these moments where you feel so loved it's hard to believe. Yeah, that was one of those moments.
We took the guinea pig home and she named her "Smores," due to her coloration. I'm notoriously bad with names- I named my last guinea pig "Pigg"- so this was a good decision. We stopped at a grocery store to pick up veggies for Smores. I held her and talked to her so she could familiarize herself with my voice. The little animal was terrified. A girl walking into her car next to me saw the guinea pig in my arms and smiled.
In the past, when I've owned pigs I haven't been a devoted pet-mother. I've seen them as pets, little goofy beings I share my living quarters with, but I've also handled them immaturely. Because I was a child. As an adult with guinea pig, it felt different. Smores wouldn't drink her water at first and I worried about her. We both worried about her, taking turns giving her water with an eyedropper.
I thought about her at work. I worried about her. The little guinea pig was so defenseless against the world- bottom of the food chain. We were all she had.
"Smores!" I'd yell when I came home, dropping my bag and rushing to her to see if she was still alive. I checked her nose and eyes religiously to see if she was okay. She always was. If anything, I probably confused her with my attentiveness.
Smores began drinking her water, eating more food and loosening up. Which was when my girlfriend decided we should get another one.
"She'll get lonely," she reasoned. I knew she was right- except for weekends, I am not home that much. Guinea pigs are social creatures. I relented: Okay. We could get another guinea pig.
Mocha showed up a few days later. She was even smaller than Smores and so dark I could barely see her face.
I realized the name's implication as well.
Smores and Mocha seem to get along, like female guinea pigs generally do. Due to perhaps Mocha's size - and Smores has BLOWN UP since we brought her home, my god- and her general shyness, Smores has become the dominant pig. She reiterated this by humping Mocha several times. I did not know female guinea pigs did that, or animals in general. But I have glimpsed into that cage several times and seen Smores riding Mocha like a mechanical bull. Perhaps they are just lesbians. ...
It's a little bewildering to me, though, how attached I've gotten to these little pigs. I look forward to them squealing at me when I walk through my door in the evening. I like letting the cage door open and having them bounce around my apartment, sniffing everything (and occasionally grazing on carpet). How I honestly love these creatures.
Yeah, they can be pains in the ass and they go through a lot of food. They squeak at night and have peed on me several times. But they're lovable animals with their own personalities. Smores is outgoing and fearless (for a guinea pig). Mocha is reserved and likes to burrow. They play leapfrog with each other, rub noses and sometimes fight.
I worry about them as if I had given birth to them (that would be disgusting). I have this irrational fear of a cat or snake breaking in and hurting them, which would cause me to maim said imagined cat or snake. I asked one of my best friends to please knit pig sweaters. She did. The pigs are not fans of the sweaters, but they look adorable in them regardless.
Sometimes I feel like I am becoming that weird pet person, but I have my criteria for my pig-craziness. I am easily stressed, riddled with anxiety and I sometimes feel pretty adrift. I have been living in Phoenix for over a year now, and I quite like it, but my social sphere is small and my family is far away. This does wear on me now and then. I just dreamt my mom came over to help me clean, but I know that's unlikely to ever happen.
Even when I was home, I felt disconnected and shut-out. Hence, the pigs have become a makeshift nuclear family for me, along with my girlfriend, who is hands-down the most important person in my life.
So when I talk about my guinea pigs- like I tend to do- I'm talking about a lot more.
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