The guinea pigs on the sales floor of Petsmart have taken to knocking their hutch on its side. I have absolutely no idea why. I can only surmise that they’re just rebelling against the dictations of their human masters. Whenever I see that they’ve knocked over their hutch, I mutter, “Viva la revolucion” and set it back. I’ve named the guinea pigs Joan and Ida to acknowledge their revolutionary spirits.
One of the cashiers decided to watch me feed the reptiles and small animals instead of work for the last ten minutes of her shift. We chatted all friendly-like about bearded dragons, and then turned the corner to look at the rodents. Joan watched me as I approached the cages.
I looked into the guinea pig cage.
“Look at this,” I said. “Look at you!”
I unlocked the guinea pig cage and took out the bowl of guinea pig food. It was mostly full.
“Look at this,” I said. “What have you been eating this whole time? This is full of healthy and nutritious foods just for you and you refused to eat it! What have you been eating all day? Was it hay? I have a whole box of hay that I was going to give you two, but now I’m not sure.”
The cashier was giggling behind me.
“What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?” I asked.
Joan responded by biting the lip of the metal food bowl. The cashier and I cracked up.