As the world’s greatest grandpa, he sets his standards high when it comes to entertaining his grandkids for a weekend. The 3-year-old boy and 6-year-old girl have even been taught to say, “what happens at Papa’s, stays at Papa’s.”
Since the heat was going to keep everyone inside, my boyfriend decided the kids needed something new to play with. I was imagining a train set or maybe a new baby doll, so when he presented the new “toy,” I thought I smelled a rat.
It’s not a rat, but still a rodent, which the girl named Bella. The pet store guy sold him on bringing home a guinea pig, which is supposed to love social interaction and will sit for hours while being petted.
The kids wrapped Bella in a blanket and for the first couple of days she seemed very content to be held. I didn’t try to make friends with her right away, but she seemed to be fairly unmotivated to try and get away.
While the kids and their Papa were checking rabbit traps (which are caught and released, along with raccoons, just so the grandkids can say they saw one up close and personal) I decided it would be fun for Bella and the kids to sit in the grass and play. I set up a large dog fence in the grass and as soon as I put Bella down, those little guinea pig legs were moving faster than this overweight old lady can run. Just as she passed through the fencing (I guess I slightly overestimated her size) she headed toward the bushes.
About that time Papa and the kids arrived and all I could hear, while running like a wild woman, was him screaming, “if she goes under the house, she’s gone forever.”
Sure enough Bella hightailed it under the shrubbery and under the deck (where I envision brown recluse spiders and snakes live).
The three of them were frozen in fear as they stared me down and it looked like the girl was beginning to cry. I was going to be known as the one who lost their pet. I made a dive through the bushes and landed underneath the house in the dark, damp, dungy space where Bella was waiting.
The guinea pig, aka, rodent gone wacko, turned around to look at me with her beady little eyes and took off running deeper into the dark shadows of where people shouldn’t be.
As the world’s greatest grandpa, he sets his standards high when it comes to entertaining his grandkids for a weekend. The 3-year-old boy and 6-year-old girl have even been taught to say, “what happens at Papa’s, stays at Papa’s.”
Since the heat was going to keep everyone inside, my boyfriend decided the kids needed something new to play with. I was imagining a train set or maybe a new baby doll, so when he presented the new “toy,” I thought I smelled a rat.
It’s not a rat, but still a rodent, which the girl named Bella. The pet store guy sold him on bringing home a guinea pig, which is supposed to love social interaction and will sit for hours while being petted.
The kids wrapped Bella in a blanket and for the first couple of days she seemed very content to be held. I didn’t try to make friends with her right away, but she seemed to be fairly unmotivated to try and get away.
While the kids and their Papa were checking rabbit traps (which are caught and released, along with raccoons, just so the grandkids can say they saw one up close and personal) I decided it would be fun for Bella and the kids to sit in the grass and play. I set up a large dog fence in the grass and as soon as I put Bella down, those little guinea pig legs were moving faster than this overweight old lady can run. Just as she passed through the fencing (I guess I slightly overestimated her size) she headed toward the bushes.
About that time Papa and the kids arrived and all I could hear, while running like a wild woman, was him screaming, “if she goes under the house, she’s gone forever.”
Sure enough Bella hightailed it under the shrubbery and under the deck (where I envision brown recluse spiders and snakes live).
The three of them were frozen in fear as they stared me down and it looked like the girl was beginning to cry. I was going to be known as the one who lost their pet. I made a dive through the bushes and landed underneath the house in the dark, damp, dungy space where Bella was waiting.
The guinea pig, aka, rodent gone wacko, turned around to look at me with her beady little eyes and took off running deeper into the dark shadows of where people shouldn’t be.
I could see daylight so I knew we had to be nearing the end when she again gave me the look, although this time she stopped so I could pick her up. Maybe she smelled something around the corner that she didn’t want to run into and figured I was her best bet to stay alive. I decided to go back the way I came in, just in case her instincts were right.
I crawled out with scratches up and down my legs, a hole in my head from something above and a guinea pig that was being overdramatic and crying like I was the one who decided to go on an unannounced journey.
Bella is living happily in her cage, although I’ve been instructed to never get her out on my own again.
I swear every time I pass by her cage her beady little eyes are saying, “nah-nah-nah-nah.”