G Force

There is a lot I want to write about and can't, some I probably should write about but won't, and a bit I probably need to write about and, at some point, will find the words. Until then, let's talk about rodents.

Meet Edge, Weston's guinea pig.

Heather's family left for Spring Break and I have guinea pig duty. When Jason brought him out to my car Edge scurried into his little igloo house (fondly referred to as his "happy place") and didn't come out for the next 12 hours, at least that I could see. Power to you, Edge. Everyone should have a happy place. Poor little guy was traumatized. He would actually pick up the igloo and move it with him to his water or food so that he only had to stick his snout out for nourishment.  Comical, really, like those cloak-and-dagger movies where you see barrels or bushes moving, mobilized by the spies hiding beneath them.

But he eventually came out and our relationship is progressing. He lets me pet him and feed him. I haven't ventured to hold him because, with my pet-sitting record, no doubt he would escape and take to the walls or plumbing.

Ask not what you can do with a guinea pig, but what you CAN'T do with a guinea pig. We've read poetry, rocked out and watched Arrested Development together. I think there was a staring contest in there somewhere. He's not much of a classic rock fan. The White Stripes, on the other hand...

I decided to do some research, as I know nothing about these creatures. I learned that they are in no way related to pigs (shocker) and they in no way originated from Guinea. I glazed over the part about guinea pig cuisine in the Andes in case he could see it in my eyes. But more importantly I learned that GPs thrive in pairs or groups and that lone GPs are more prone to stress and depression. Amen to that. So as I watched him chewing his cud (wait, that's just cows...), I couldn't help but wonder if he's lonely. Maybe he misses Lenny (Micah's GP, may he rest in peace). Hence the necessity for a happy place.

Well, Edge, you're no Jordan, and I'm certainly no Lenny, and while I won't fit in your igloo, I think we've found a comfortable happy place together. Maybe the Cureton Three can join our guinea pig cabal. If they're lucky.