I'm going to be setting up a separate Facebook page for this blog soon so those of you who are regulars can get notifications every time I post rather than my posts getting lost in the Facebook abyss.
Today I'm going to talk about a couple of new (temporary) residents I have living in a cage in my hallway! Those of you who are friend's with me on Facebook or indeed follow me on Instagram will know what I'm on about already, but for those of you who haven't got the foggiest, I'm looking after 2 guinea pigs for the week! Now I will elaborate more in a jiffy but if I had one word to sum up their time with me so far, it would be:
POO.
Lots and lots of poo. They poo sooooo much, it's almost unbelievable! They've been here since Friday night and in case you're wondering what I'm doing with these 2 turd factories, I'm looking after them for the week while Matthew's work colleague- their owner- goes on holiday. When I was first told, I had elaborate visions of guinea pig hugs and adorable little squeaks as they come to me wanting a bit of petting. Boy was I wrong! To be fair, these two are rescued guinea pigs.......and they've only been here 2 days so far, but everything I've tried in order to calm them doesn't work. They run and hide the moment they see me. I've tried the approaching quietly technique- they run away, I've tried the food bribes-they run away, I've tried sitting and talking to them too but nothing will ease their obvious anxiety! Help! All I want to do is have a little cute guinea pig snuggle time, but all I get are frozen pained looks before they dart back into bed again. I always loved the thought of having a guinea pig but now I'm not so sure I'm cut out for guinea pig ownership. I want to make them happy but all I do is make them run away. They're meant to be sociable and like being picked up and cuddled but these two little (or should I say massive) piggies are having none of it
Matthew asked me weeks ago if I'd want to look after the two brothers and, loving guinea pigs, I leapt at the chance and after my mum agreed, it was all good to go. He'd been informed by his colleague that it'd be a small cage, they like being handled and their names were Bert and Ernie.
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| The watching eye of contempt: Genghis is the brown one and Napoleon is the ginger one |
Wrong, wrong and....wrong. All deception. The cage is 3 times the size I was expecting and there was a note attached saying they don't like being picked up and to top it all off, their names weren't Bert and Ernie at all, but were in fact Napoleon and Genghis!! "Oh, right" I remembered thinking as Matthew set everything up and I rushed about doing dinner. My excitement was somewhat dampened as my rose-tinted, guinea pig sitting dreams were brought crashing down. "Maybe they'll warm to me after a little while" I thought as we set the piggies free into their cage......Maybe.
You now join me in a bitter-sweet love hate relationship with two these cheeky boys. They're so cute but I feel I'm treading on egg shells with them. Their cage is in the hall right by my room and for the last few days I've found myself asking their permission to leave and enter my room and to tell them where I'm about to walk so they don't get too scared. Only that doesn't work and they still dart off anyway! My routine with them pretty much goes;
Morning: cautiously exit my room armed with the poop spoon and de-turd their cage. I say good morning to them and put fresh hay down and fresh veg out for them as they give me evils in return. Then I let them know I'm going back into my room so they don't get alarmed.
20 mins later: They've pooped EVERYWHERE I've just cleaned including their tunnel and all over the veg I just put out for them.
(I may catch them off guard to see them eat and hear them squeak occasionally but all they really do is poo, eat, sit in poo, look at me with judging eyes, poo again.)
Midday: I give them more veg. There's ten times more poo. They give me evils and I walk about the flat as quietly as I can as to not disturb them eating.
Evening: I ply them with more veg as I persuade them to come over for a little socialisation. They have none of it and go back to bed huffing and puffing. They poo, piss, sleep, squeak, look at me with contempt, whine, poo...
You get the picture.
This weekend we did manage to get them out and running about while we cleaned the cage out but my nerves were too frayed to let them stay out for long. With wires and bags and small gaps everywhere I was on guard everywhere they went. Having said that, they seemed to enjoy running around. However, now Matthew isn't here to help me herd them back in, and mums on holiday in Scotland, I haven't dared let them out since. Today I tried again to socialise with them by talking to them and reaching in for a little stroke but I still get the impression they rather I wasn't there. I think for now I'm just going to keep them fed and watered and I'll keep trying the sweet talking technique but I doubt it'll really work.
I guess to summarise; guinea pig sitting hasn't quite lived up to my expectations (so far) and it's made me realise I'm perhaps not quite cut out for small furry animal ownership. I want a pet that appreciates that I exist and that I give them food and love. It'd also be nice to have an animal that wasn't so incontinent! Perhaps a dog? Well I feel I kind of have a dog already as I get to see Matthew's Staffy, Tilly often enough and it's lovely when she wants a snuggle with me on the sofa. To her I'm a play mate who probably lets her get away with more than she should so I suppose that's why she likes me, she can get away with murder just by being adorable!
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| This is what pet ownership should look like: Tilly giving me a facial |
I'll of course let you know if mine and the boys' relationship blossoms, but for now, I'm convinced they hate me and poo out of protest.
That's all for now! I'll update you all again on Wednesday!
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