We’re having a heat wave—a triple-digit heat wave. So why do people laugh when I tell them I leave the air-conditioner on for Princess Piggy Poo? “That’ll cost you,” said my work buddy. Don’t get me wrong, the thermostat isn’t a chilly 68° or even a moderate 72°—the lowest I even set it for humans is 78°. Thankfully, Princess Piggy Poo seems quite comfortable at 82°.
Princess Piggy Poo doesn’t even have an inkling it was 104° yesterday (82° sounds downright comfortable compared to that). She’s still dashing around, enjoying her veggies and snuggling when she gets the chance. No sign of lethargy, sweat or excessive drinking—Princess Piggy Poo may not get to experience the great outdoors but she can vouch for the benefits of climate-control.
I’m guessing in another week, the heat will subside and I’ll be able to turn off the air and open the windows again. There was a time when I didn’t have that option; it was fresh air all the time. And, when it’s scorching hot outside, no fan will even provide relief. I’m so glad I have an air-conditioner now; otherwise, Princess Piggy Poo would have had to go to work with me—there’s no way I could make it through the day worrying about coming home to a roasted guinea pig.
Sure, it will be a little more expensive leaving the air on for Princess Piggy Poo, but it would cost me more not to. If she did want the temperature lower, I wouldn’t mind, as long as Princess Piggy Poo keeps her cool.