When I was 6-years-old, the neighbor kids got a light brown and white guinea pig. It was the first time I had ever seen one. I can also say that about its young owner’s private parts. He used to show me his when I would show him mine until my little brother saw us and tattled at the dinner table one evening.
“She looked but I closed my eyes,” he snitched.
“If you closed your eyes, how did you know what I was seeing?” I retorted, impressed by my brilliance.
It backfired on him though, because our dad said that if we wanted to see naked people we could all stop wearing clothes around the house. My brother was a modest 4-year-old and retracted his statement.
So, why do I now have the pet of a 6-year-old? Don’t judge me; learn from me, that’s all I can handle. Guinea pigs don’t need much: a cage, bedding, water, pellets, hay and they even help you eat the produce you might otherwise throw away—just make sure some of it has vitamin C because, like people, piggies need their daily dose. You clean the cage a couple of times a week, once if you want to stretch it, and play with them everyday and that’s it.
I’ve read that you can train guinea pigs to jump through a hoop or stand up, but for goodness sake, how long will it take to train an animal with a brain the size of a pea to do that? And then what…impress your friends and neighbors with a guinea pig circus act? I don’t have that kind of patience and it would require more than I can handle.
Besides, just seeing a guinea pig made an impression on me, as much as seeing my first “thingy”—no tricks necessary.