Since cats are not appreciated in our house, both for their allergy-inducing traits and for their personalities, and most dogs are equally hard on certain people's respiratory systems, we opted for a guinea pig for our first foray into family pet ownership. In January, before the plague struck, we brought a female guinea pig home from PetSmart. The 'Name That Pig' sweepstakes began on the ride home. First order of business was pointing out to Lauren and Maddie that Rudolph, while a lovely name, might not be gender-appropriate for a female. Then began the desperate search for alternatives as Lauren and Maddie began to contemplate the name of Rudolph's girlfriend. There will be no new Hamiltons named Clarice, thank you. I became rather partial to Vixen, but was outvoted in the end. The girls preferred Mike's suggestion -- Miss Piggy -- probably bolstered by their recent exposure to a DVD collection of episodes from The Muppet Show. But she will remain a saucy little vixen in my mind.
One of her early favorite spots was the back of my neck. I suspect my hair looked like something she could nest in. She has learned how to let us know, on no uncertain terms, that she needs more hay, which is her favorite snack. So far she has resisted our attempts to add some of the fruits and veggies other people tell us guinea pigs often love. Greens and carrots have been met with indifference, and when we offered orange slices, she boycotted that area of her cage. Another picky eater -- she fits right in.
The happiest moment of her brief life? Probably when she figured out she could jump from the chair she and Lauren were sitting in straight into her hay bag.
