Once upon a time there were two girls. The older girl, Matilda, wanted a guinea pig for Christmas. That was all she desired. Just a small rodent that could be held, loved and stroked. The younger girl, Gert, also wanted a guinea pig. One would assume it was merely because her sister wanted one. That was partly true. But Gert also desperately wanted something to love. Not just a furry pet, but something she could love with all her heart.
Christmas came and Santa complied. He brought everything a girl could ever need for a rodent. A home, food, vitamins, toys and more. He did not, however, provide the livestock. Instead, he provided the means by which to get the livestock.
We followed all the rules. We picked animals from the same litter. Both boys, of course. Matilda picked out Frito, a brownish, small pig with a sweet disposition. Gert selected Max, a largish pig who was hiding.
From the back seat Gert’s voice was a feeble wail, “I love him so much I can’t breathe,” she said. Those words would haunt us.
We brought them home. Frito and Matilda immediately bonded, cuddling and playing Gameboy. Gert and Max, however, had a few problems.
Max didn’t wan to be held. Max didn’t want to play. Max didn’t want to be looked at, touched or even thought about. Max didn’t want to live with Frito. Max didn’t want to share food with Frito. Or water. Or space. Max, in fact, hated everyone and everything.
Max was also a bully. He pushed Frito around, causing Frito to cower in the corner quivering in fear.
But Gert loved him. She tried to bond with him; she made excuses for his behavior. She did all she could. But Max wanted nothing to do with anyone. Gert cried, “I’m a bad guinea pig owner.” But she never gave up.
But the household was on edge. No one, including Frito, seemed happy with the situation. In only three or four days, these pigs had caused so much stress and unhappiness.
Finally, early Sunday morning, we heard a clatter and a chirping. I found Frito cowering in the corner while Max sat on top of the food dish angry. There was a hunk of Frito’s fur embedded in the wall and bedding was scattered across the room. Literally, ten feet from the cage.
Mom and I started discussing that maybe Max was not a social animal and, maybe, it would be best for both of the animals if we took Frito back to his brothers and we selected another.
But there was Gert. How to explain this idea to emotional Gert. Turns out, she was completely open to the idea. But, not without emotion. She held Max and cried for an hour. She asked to be left alone with him and wondered if, maybe, he were just like her. Maybe he needed time to adjust. Maybe he was just nervous and needed love. Maybe he was just a furry version of Gert. Maybe …
In the end she decided that maybe Max had been separated from him family and his best friend was still back at the hutch. So she steeled herself and went back with mom and Max to reunite him with his family.
She returned an hour later with Max II. He was the same size as Frito. He was brown and white and very, very sweet. The original Max was at home again, with his family and seemingly happy.
Gert put Max II in his new home and filled the food bowl. Frito wolfed down food as if he hadn’t eaten in days. And, perhaps he hadn’t because Max I had frightened Frito away from the food dish.
Gert and Max II spent the day together, watching TV, playing on the floor and getting to know Frito. They were happy together. Very happy together.
When I last saw Gert this morning, she was laying on the couch with Max II on her chest. They both seemed content and relaxed.
And Gert was happy. I don’t know if it’s causing breathing problems, but I can tell that she loves Max II so much.
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