Metropolitan Piggy Poo

Tonight as I was cleaning Princess Piggy Poo’s cage, I flashed back to my New York City apartment. My guinea pig and I share the experience of living in a tiny studio where you can eat, sleep, play and poop without taking more than two steps.

If I compare our places to scale, my futon was proportionate to her hiding house. My bathroom—considered spacious by Manhattan standards because it had a full-size tub and room to walk into, turn around and close the door—is comparable to her bathroom—the tray that holds her hay. My kitchen consisted of a half sink, mini dormitory refrigerator and gas-powered, two-burner hot plate that I feared. Princess Piggy Poo’s kitchen is a bright yellow plastic rectangular tray with a center divider—one side for crudités, the other for nutritious pellets. She gets her food delivered right to her door, just like I did. Her water bottle hangs by her pellets taking up the same space in her house as three stacked kegs would in my humble abode.

While my apartment had three nice windows plus a small one in the bathroom, Princess Piggy Poo has a skylight spanning her entire cage. At least when people are peeking in on her, they don’t have binoculars in front of their faces peering out of windows from the apartment building across the street. Oh, NY!

Living in a small space doesn’t really bother when you have a fantastic city as your playground. I’m not sure if my two-bedroom home is the same scale as the City but there are many interesting places for Princess Piggy Poo to explore. And, when her little feet can’t get traction and she slides across the wood floor, I recall skidding across the snow slick sidewalks and landing on my well-cushioned ass. Just as I rescue her, passersby would lend a hand helping me back to my feet. Oh, NY!

It’s funny how you can enjoy a big life while living in a small space. My lifestyle and location may have changed, but I hope my piggy is enjoying her taste of Big Apple living.

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One Response to Metropolitan Piggy Poo

  1. kramer says:

    OH, MY, I remember your home in NY. You were the best tour guide and definitely the hostess with the mostest. I agree with you that there is a big difference in one’s “home space” and the great “outdoor space” of a big city. Thinking of little Princess Piggy Poo living in an outdoor space the size of NY gave me pause . . . duck and roll, Princess Piggy!! Home is where you hang your hat, where your heart is, where you come to recharge and be safe. Coming home is like sliding into home base . . . whether you’re sliding across a wooden floor or on a “well-cushioned” ass!! 🙂

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