It’s Easter Sunday, it’s Passover and today I pushed my luck for another miracle by trimming Princess Piggy Poo’s nails for the first time. I’m sad to report a little blood was shed, yet I’m happy to tell you that it wasn’t mine. Out of 14 toes, one had a little mishap with a snip of the quick but my Princess Piggy Poo was a champ and the pitch of her squeaks were consistent for each squeeze of the nail clippers.
She had no idea what she was in for, even though I showed her the clippers before I pulled one of her little paws from my sweatshirt pocket. The happy brown and white guinea pig is a sneaky way to hide the hideous torture device that waits inside. Princess Piggy Poo took a few sniffs at the plastic face but showed no interest.
I started with her back feet—naturally because they are farther from her teeth and there are only 6 toes in the back. There were a few expected kicks with her trying to free her foot from my grasp and me trying to determine how hard I can hold her foot without hurting her. Once I got my grip and she acquiesced to my hold, I carefully tried not to cut too deep. Poor Princess Piggy Poo didn’t even squirm, so it wasn’t her fault; I just misjudged the length of the second toenail on her right back leg. A drop of blood followed the snip.
After that misfortune I thought she would object to her front paws being trimmed, but she was resigned after hearing how gnarly toenails can get when left unkempt. Princess Piggy Poo was concerned that she may not be able to walk if her nails curl under, or worse, look ugly like Howard Hughes. Any day you can reason with a creature that has a brain the size of a pea must be a holy day.