Readers kind enough to glance at my first blog will remember that I called it "Squashy Droppings." This title does not refer to some quaint little English village tucked away in a fold of the Cotswold hills. No, it refers to the product of my bottom passage - as I like to call it. You will recall that I had just been forcibly evicted from my previous home and made to live with a big ugly bloke who strongly resembles a proboscis monkey on steroids and his rather gorgeous partner who strongly resembles me. They call each other "Pea" and "Chook". Pea being the big ugly one.
I overheard them discussing how they had kidnapped me. Apparently Pea had seen a sign in the window of a local shop that read "Beautiful Guinea Pig free to a good home." Imagine how betrayed I felt to hear that! So that's how I came to be where I am now. Hah! Free guinea pig my furry foot! The cage that I came with was so dilapidated that Pea immediately went out and bought a new one along with all sorts of toys, a big red plastic shelter and an industrial sized bag of guinea pig food. I heard him tell Chook it had set him back about $160 all up. The woman in the pet shop had also offered him a guinea pig harness at which he drew the line. Just as well because I wouldn't be seen dead in it. About this time Pea and Chook realised that I was not well. My bottom passage continued to produce some particularly nasty odours, not to mention the omnipresent squashy droppings.
One visit to the vet later and Pea and Chook's bank account was another $80 lighter. How proud I was to be the world's most expensive free guinea pig. I really could have done without the visit to the vet though. I'm sure he used a horse thermometer instead of the one meant for small cute animals like yours truly. Pea said at the time that my eyes bulged as the vet inserted the implement into my nether regions. His would too if he'd just had something the size of a baseball bat shoved up his bottom passage.
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