I really do like animals.
Animals, babies and old people. The innocent and the wise. But where in the heck did I sign up for this? Ah, that's right Chase.
It all started with Guinea pigs.
OK, so if you have a boy over the age of five there is an excellent chance you've experienced the rodent on a wheel, in a cage complete with white shredded pine chips scattered about your home - right of passage. So far nothing out of the ordinary. As parents we try to stay off the dog walking and kitty litter detail as long as possible, because it is no mystery who will be doing these chores, and it ain't the kids. Still a family is incomplete without a sweet little beast to love.
In this case it was my husband who wanted pets, including a snake and chicken farm. In suburbia. The chicken plot was thwarted early on in the marriage, "over my dead body". But I was comfortable with the decision of buying a guinea pig for the household pet.
How bad can it be? One small furry thing that doesn't even weigh a pound could not be much trouble. No trouble at all according to Chase.
Guinea pigs don't have a long disgusting rubbery tail to identify they are indeed a close relative of the rat. Their long fluffy hair reminds me more of my teenage bedroom slippers than an animal. This selling point made it entirely possible to pretend it was a pet.
Care is minimal. Simply fill a bin with pellets and attach a water bottle. No vet trips no fuss no barking no shedding. No frontline no walking no boarding no problems. They are self sufficient in a cage with a handle. Chase is happy. The kids are happy, entertained and learning. All good right? Wrong.
First off you go to buy one critter and always buy two. You always buy two. Just accept this. There are so many of these homeless four legged fur balls, and they can look cute in a moment of madness and of course how mean can you be to take only one rodent then put it in a cage by itself for the rest of it's natural born life? You take two.
After being assured that both guinea pigs are of the same sex I gather the new family members Barney and Fred to travel home. I should have noted the foreshadowing of "hamster hell" from their behavior in the car. They are not two boys and they are not two girls, so........BINGO!
Barney and Fred became Fred and Ethel and all hell broke loose.
One afternoon while vacuuming the bedrooms I notice a huge lump on Ethel so as usual, I call my sister Lucy.
She answers "Hello?" I jump right in. "Oh my god Lucy, I think the guinea pig is sick. It looks like Ethel has a tumor." I am received in witty silence. "What. What do you think? What do I do?" I hear her smile with disbelief as she replies" Ivey, I don't think the pig is sick." How do you know I wonder. "While we were babysitting a couple weeks ago, every time we looked in there the pigs were on top of one another. So a tumor would not be my first guess."
Fine. Fine. So the tumor disappeared after giving birth to three little babies. Fred, Ethel, Slippers, Socks and Shoes now lived with us. Chase made them a sign for their bigger new cage. Home Sweet Home.
More humping. Humping, humping and humping.
Yea, the kids are sure learning alright.
From the beginning I should have realized that a mammal pinned in for life does not have many options to occupy an eternity of time. Options? What options? That wheel looks good for only so long. Yea, that's right. They eat, sleep, crap and hump. Hump hump hump. Think about it. What would you rather do spin in the wheel or hump?
Guinea pigs have no idea of incest. The thought never crosses their mind. It is all good as everybody and their brother is getting pregnant. Now the normal person would obviously separate the two sexes, but because of Chase and his views on animal rights we did not do that. He thinks they are family members and should stay together. That was fine until thirteen guinea pigs later I said and I quote "family my ass."
Too little too late has landed me in a perpetual petting zoo, complete with fair cages, industrial feeding bins and a bunch of hungry mouths to feed. And, well you know what happens after we eat. So imagine several big disgusting litter boxes, not just one, like with a cat that I was trying to avoid. Oh, and they don't call them pigs for nothing. The pellet bin is a facade. They eat vegetables and fruit all day long in between the humping. I reckon it gives them a healthy appetite.
Thirteen guinea pigs, seven rabbits (don't ask), two birds,two dogs, two turtles and two cats later............
It starts as early as I rise. One foot on the floor and everybody with a tail thinks they are being called for breakfast. Sometimes it's just a false alarm, if I use the bathroom in the middle of the night. Hearing the immediate jangle of dog collars and jingling cat bells, I have to firmly whisper "calm down people not time yet."
Free roaming critters alone are four pairs of eyes lookin at me as if to say "bring on the vittles broad." This is before my offspring are awake, or I go outside where the beloved cages now stand.
With the unsullied vision of a Monday morning quarter back, I understand why each of us go through this 'cage' stage with no warning from our family and friends. While in the midst of inbred rodents, you are far too occupied to have friends or know who your family members are. Because you are damn busy with the feeding schedule, cleaning up pine bedding chips and emptying the ever ending droppings pan.
I know one thing. Who ever had this scathingly brilliant idea to keep rodents as pets, never won any award. And I, Ivey Mae McFarland, can tell you exactly why.
A LTTLE BIT OF IVEY
