I’m not sure I’ve mentioned it here, but last summer, we got a guinea pig. Why? Well, because I’m crazy and prone to needing an increasingly larger outlet for my nurturing instinct (we’re not having kids). So, at the time, three dogs and a horse just wasn’t enough, so
we I decided to add a little more fur to the brood.
This is Nugget. He is adorable, makes cute noises and gestures, and absolutely loves to cuddle on my lap. He also likes pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.
And if you think horse people are crazy, I soon got into the depths of the Internet where the guinea pig people hide. They are 1.5 times as judgmental as horse people and are quick to tell you that YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG. EVERYTHING. You’re probably even breathing wrong and should probably just give up and die. I’m guessing they are quicker to jump into Tiny Rodent Vigilante mode because they don’t know the majestic love of ponies to calm their spirits, and it’s easier to be smug about animals you can fit in a box.
ANYWAY, I soon learned that I was
worse than Hitler not being the best pet parent for keeping little Nugget alone, as they are very social creatures. I tried for quite some time to convince my husband that Nugget needed a little friend, but he kept telling me I was insane. Well, I am, but that’s beside the point.
So, instead I got him a big cage upgrade and made him the happiest little solo piggie I could. I even got him a piggie hammock.
One day, incredibly AFTER
I forced another dog into the house we rescued Pony Boy, Bora caved. I think I pretty much broke his spirit and he figured that we were already that crazy animal house, so why the hell not at this point. I found a guinea pig rescue (yes, they exist!) and applied for finding Nugget a friend. After they inspected photos of his cage, I told them all about his diet and care and if he preferred a bold Aries or a moody Gemini companion, we were approved.
It took a while to get an appointment, but today was the day. And it came at a good time, as Nugget had started having….. inappropriate feeeeeelings for his stuffed ducky you see in the video above. His little teenage piggie hormones have gone into full swing. Yeah. Anyway, I cleaned the cage, set up extra hay and food bowls, and off we went to Crazy Town to pick out our household’s seventh animal, if you count Ollie.
We got there, and the lady set up a little playpen-type area on the floor, and we put Nugget in there while my husband Bora and I went around to pick out a friend. We picked a cute little fluffers, and in he went with Nugget.
It was instant “OMG I HATE YOU SO F**KING MUCH. GET OUT OF MY FACE. YOUR MOTHER PROBABLY ACTUALLY *WAS* A HAMSTER. YOU SO UGLY. YOUR MOMMA SO SKINNY THEY USE HER TO THREAD NEEDLES.” (I imagine guinea pigs making skinny your momma jokes, since they are so so fat. Shut up, it makes sense.)
So out he went. Picked out another and OMG THE HATE. More rumbling around, teeth chattering, mounting, chasing, nipping, circling. OK, not his friend.
Next one? In he went, and they just sat on opposite sides of the pen and stared in opposite directions. They didn’t like each other so much they couldn’t even be bothered to physically fight.
So then we put in Winchester. I had seen him on the website and just loved the look of him. Plus, I like to say Wiiiinchestaaaaaaaah in a British accent. I imagined he would need a tiny little top hat.
So at first, they did a mild little rumble and strut. Then Nugget began the mounting behavior. “It’s OK, it’s normal,” said the rescue lady. Nugget mounted, got off and circled and rumbled. Mounted and circled, repeat. Meanwhile, Wiiiiinchestaaaahh just kind of ignored him and was all, “OK, get it out of your system little fella. Just get over it and then we can be friends.”
Well Nugget didn’t get over it. And it turns out it’s not just the ducky he has inappropriate feelings for. He went on full rabbit-esque, Do the Humpty Hump, bow chicka wow wow, how now brown cow, toot toot, zoom zippity bop, hubba hubba, OMG. Yes, my guinea pig totally hate humped another boy guinea pig. To completion. Against his will. All I could do was stand there aghast, mouth agape and look around nervously to see if I could find the tiny rodent porn camera crew.
“Oh… there’s boar juice. We’re going to have to cut that out later.”
So not only IS IT CALLED BOAR JUICE, but it’s so incredibly disgustingly sticky and gross and CHUNKY that there is no washing out that shame. That shame is suited only for a pair of scissors and some holy water.
Soon after, Nugget retreated to a corner to lie down and smoke a cigarette, and the rescue lady brought out lettuce. A nice meal to refuel the two and try to ease the uncomfortable feeling in the room for us having shared a Very Special Moment with Nugget and Wiiiiiinchestaaaaah. The two happily ate lettuce together and then both rested. It seemed we had reached detente, and Wiiiiinchestaaaaaaah had gotten over the moment of violation.
As soon as the rescue lady and I started to talk about maybe giving the two a try together at home, they went back at it. It seems that Nugget’s Very Special Ejaculatory Moment had not taken all the hormones out of him, and he was back to KILL KILL KILL HUMP KILL. Poor Wiiiiiiinchestaaaaah had to do the walk of violated shame back to his cage, alone, sticky and just a little less innocent than when he emerged from it earlier.
We decided to try one more piggie. Although Nugget seemed to hate Wiiiiinchestaaaaah, he also seemed to resent the introduction of a new violation partner, and proceeded to ignore the little guy.
Nugget had had enough excitement and was in a post-coital let-down stage. Who knew it was so hard to find him a little friend where their relationship could be only MILD violation instead of full-on boar juice factory? So, we resigned ourselves to going home and trying another day.
Until then, I’m keeping an eye on his little ducky.