You know what’s really hard? Giving a Guinea Pig a bath… I know I’ve commented on it before, but I think it merits repeating.
Giving a Guinea Pig a bath is very hard.
And anyone who attempts it and survives should be awarded a medal.
Thanks to school and work and just general laziness I suppose, the fuzzy upstairs pets have been a little on the neglected side in terms of cleaning out bedding and trimming nails and such. I like to try to clean everyone’s home out every week or week and a half, but alas, as stated above, it didn’t quite happen that way. It’s actually been more like two weeks and it’s definitely shown. So today, since I’m still on break and wasn’t scheduled to work at either of my jobs, I took the time to clean my room and everyone else’s too.
Evie and Uno rejoiced at the opportunity to take a spin in their exercise balls around the room, Faith watching them protectively from her new orthopedic bed:
It even has that stupid little tag in the corner that I’m itching to cut off. So stupid– Like a dog is going to look at that and exclaim excitement over the type of foam. I digress.
She got it for Christmas and loves it, I think she’s starting to prefer sleeping on that compared to jumping on my bed. Good and bad for me I guess, as I’m glad she’s comfortable, but sometimes miss her being on the bed with me.
So while those two puttered around in their balls, I cleaned up, cursing Uno and her aim, for so effectively getting her bedding on EVERYTHING on my cabinet. I do not understand why she does it and how she gets it over the netting I have around her two story condo, but it never fails. Finally got those two cleaned up and moved on to my favorite little Guinea Pig and realized what a mess she was. I felt really bad too, thanks to me her fur was in a state and her toenails needed clipping in the worst way. So I cleaned up her house and then bundled her into the sink for bath time:
She wasn’t happy. And I wasn’t thrilled to see how brown the water got just from setting her in it.
After what seemed like ages, I finally felt she was clean and squeegeed out the rest of the water, wrapping her up in a towel. Her hootin’ and hollerin’ all the way.
I took her downstairs wrapped up in her little “robe” where I did a bang up job of making my mom think she had died (holy cow) and then got her ridiculously long nails trimmed.
This was all too much for her and by the time I got back up to our room, the only way to calm her was to give her an orange. All that work and she got orange all over her face. Oy.
And to wrap it all up– You know what else is hard?
Giving a Guinea Pig a haircut.
It’s harder than it looks, nerve-wracking and really just reaffirms how much of a hair stylist I’m not.
At least she can see now, before she looked like a calico sheepdog. She still has plenty of fur, don’t get me wrong. I just trimmed her around the eyes, screamed once when she bobbed her head when I was perilously close to her ears and scolded twice when she nibbled the hand with the scissors. She didn’t take me very seriously. I’m sure it’ll all grow back in about two seconds, but at least I made the effort.
All I know is that I need to sleep now, because this whoooole ordeal exhausted me. I do know for sure that one of her favorite movies is Superman, because she didn’t take her eyes off the TV the whole time I was drying her.
I understand Buddha. Christopher Reeve was a hunk and one of the best versions of Superman ever.
Time for Superman III just for laughs? I think soooo.
~Jaina G.P.S. (AKA: Guinea Pig Stylist)