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juushikaHaven't done one of these in a while, have I? I come bearing pigspam. With bonus cat! and dog! and video!
Alfie is adorable. That's all.
Kuzco is adorable. We may be sensing a theme here.
His little round eye peeking out of the shadows somehow just slays me.
This is what Alfie looks like two days before I chop his buttfur. It's a remarkable difference.
(For an after view, glance back up top. He gets all ... squat.)
Kuzco is still adorable, at at about this point I begin to wonder exactly why I'm typing this elucidating commentary.
Ah, yes. So that I can direct your eyes to the cuteness of his open, overexposed mouth.
The blessing is that Alfie and Kuzco can be outside together without killing each other.
This makes it twice as easy to let them outside, so they go out twice as often.
They are never going to be buddies and as soon as the joyous haze of outside grass grass grass wears off, Kuzco starts getting nervous and then territorial and Alfie starts acting like the butthead that he is. But the fact that they can now temporarily share an enclosed space that isn't the cage is a blessing, so I'll take it no matter the caveats.
Dude the cat sits outside with us too.
Forgive his ratty fur—he's old and not one is brave enough to bathe him, so he can be ratty if he wants to.
And finally, a video of Woof running circles around the guinea pig cage:
Woof'll do that more or less endlessly when they're outside, pausing only to sit by their cage and stare at them while she catches her breath. The pigs are her babies, her beloveds, and few things bring her more joy than pseudo-herding them. (Woof is currently fighting a skin infection, and so has irritation and missing fur on her rump. You probably didn't notice it before, but you will now; regardless, rest assure that she's being treated.)
The outside enclosure is the top of the travel/temporary pig cage, stuck in the middle of the yard; Devon's dad mowed around it so that the pigs would have lush burrowable grass within.
When uploading the video I wandered back to my older guinea pig vids, which include Dink. As much as I don't miss, I don't mourn, as much as these concepts are to me foreign ... I miss him. Not constantly, not daily, but watching him—my lovely, my sweetheart, chocolate-brown with that pointy nose and his big ears and his little white spots, his intelligent eyes, his liveliness—my heart breaks all over again and I want nothing more than to hold him. All the better reason to celebrate the pigs that remain, but—
But what, I don't even know. I love him and wish he were still here.
The irony (if that's word for it) is that the other day I took Kuzco out and he was acting listless and sleepy, and I was instantly worried. I kept a close eye on him all day, but his eyes and nose were sparkling clear, he was pudgy, and mostly it just seemed that he wanted to sleep. I was checking on him late that evening when I found out that Devon's father had taken the pigs out earlier that day, and Kuzco got fifteen minutes more than Alfie (because Alfie started being a butthead). He wasn't sick. He wasn't off his food. He was full.
So, yes. The blessing is that I still have batshit crazy pig and adorable tiny pig, and even if my baby has left me there is still great joy to be found in those two boys, and they are healthy—and well.
Alfie is adorable. That's all.
Kuzco is adorable. We may be sensing a theme here.
His little round eye peeking out of the shadows somehow just slays me.
This is what Alfie looks like two days before I chop his buttfur. It's a remarkable difference.
(For an after view, glance back up top. He gets all ... squat.)
Kuzco is still adorable, at at about this point I begin to wonder exactly why I'm typing this elucidating commentary.
Ah, yes. So that I can direct your eyes to the cuteness of his open, overexposed mouth.
The blessing is that Alfie and Kuzco can be outside together without killing each other.
This makes it twice as easy to let them outside, so they go out twice as often.
They are never going to be buddies and as soon as the joyous haze of outside grass grass grass wears off, Kuzco starts getting nervous and then territorial and Alfie starts acting like the butthead that he is. But the fact that they can now temporarily share an enclosed space that isn't the cage is a blessing, so I'll take it no matter the caveats.
Dude the cat sits outside with us too.
Forgive his ratty fur—he's old and not one is brave enough to bathe him, so he can be ratty if he wants to.
And finally, a video of Woof running circles around the guinea pig cage:
Woof'll do that more or less endlessly when they're outside, pausing only to sit by their cage and stare at them while she catches her breath. The pigs are her babies, her beloveds, and few things bring her more joy than pseudo-herding them. (Woof is currently fighting a skin infection, and so has irritation and missing fur on her rump. You probably didn't notice it before, but you will now; regardless, rest assure that she's being treated.)
The outside enclosure is the top of the travel/temporary pig cage, stuck in the middle of the yard; Devon's dad mowed around it so that the pigs would have lush burrowable grass within.
When uploading the video I wandered back to my older guinea pig vids, which include Dink. As much as I don't miss, I don't mourn, as much as these concepts are to me foreign ... I miss him. Not constantly, not daily, but watching him—my lovely, my sweetheart, chocolate-brown with that pointy nose and his big ears and his little white spots, his intelligent eyes, his liveliness—my heart breaks all over again and I want nothing more than to hold him. All the better reason to celebrate the pigs that remain, but—
But what, I don't even know. I love him and wish he were still here.
The irony (if that's word for it) is that the other day I took Kuzco out and he was acting listless and sleepy, and I was instantly worried. I kept a close eye on him all day, but his eyes and nose were sparkling clear, he was pudgy, and mostly it just seemed that he wanted to sleep. I was checking on him late that evening when I found out that Devon's father had taken the pigs out earlier that day, and Kuzco got fifteen minutes more than Alfie (because Alfie started being a butthead). He wasn't sick. He wasn't off his food. He was full.
So, yes. The blessing is that I still have batshit crazy pig and adorable tiny pig, and even if my baby has left me there is still great joy to be found in those two boys, and they are healthy—and well.
