Well, so much for wondering if Uno the guinea pig is pregnant…

Every time I walked by her house, I thought I might see some new additions to the family, but was really hoping we’d get to see her actually have the babies. What a joy – we did!! This evening, as I walked by I saw her squat in a way that was different from any other time she would squat. I quickly ran to tell the boys and we all gathered around (quietly, yeah, yeah – don’t worry) to watch.

First one

Second one

The first one was born rather quick, maybe two minutes after she started pushing. The second one came within five minutes. More time passed, and we wondered if that could possibly be it. But it really (really, really) looked like she had one more in there.

She cleaned them up between each birth. They were pretty active within minutes, little legs scratching behind ears, looking around.

But… one more?

Sal said he saw a leg come out a couple times and I started to grow concerned that something was wrong.

And then out came number three.

I was excited that he was brown. Franny called him “chocolate filling” – he insists on the honor of naming, since, technically, it is his piggy who is the mother.

The piggies gathered around to nurse on the momma, and she chowed down on some lettuce. Franny wanted to hold one of the baby piggies, but I think we’ll wait until tomorrow. I’ve read that it is good to start picking them up the next day to get them acclimated to being handled. I think we’re also going to need to get a little bigger crate for them.

The twins turned 10 on March 27th. They had a birthday party. It was a sleepover, with a bunch of friends from school. Two of their friends, Enrique and his little brother, came in carrying McDonald Happy Meal boxes. I found it odd, but said nothing. Ten minutes after their arrival, my oldest son came to me and said, “They have a hamster in there.”

Are you kidding me?! What kind of kid brings their pet hamster to a birthday party?

Turns out it was a gift. Not a pet. A… gift. And it was a guinea pig, not a hamster.  And Franny, who loves animals, was delighted. Trying not to panic, I remembered our old hamster cage, and hoped that there were enough accessories to use in a pinch. I had just gotten the piggy settled, when out came piggy number Two. Apparently the kind boys brought a guinea pig for each of the twins. Two was Sal’s, Uno is Franny’s. I realized then what the McDonald boxes had contained.

Shortly after that day, Franny was hit by a car and everything seemed to be upside down. Then Two died, and Uno survived. Sal was not upset, as Sal never really took to the pig, and doesn’t exactly care for animals.

Uno became progressively fatter. We thought maybe she was depressed after losing her buddy (who was also female, we were told). But in the past week, I’ve started to think that she’s not just fat, she has a distinct… look to her.

So I googled “pregnant guinea pigs” and found this, which looks strikingly similar to Uno:

I’m not positive, but I’m getting to the point where every time I look in her cage I’m expecting to see more than just her.

If my pets could rat me out…

She doesn’t manhandle me too much, but talks to me a lot. Pets me when I sit on her lap. Fondles the bump between my ears. Leaves my tummy alone; I hate having it touched.

Her hair makes a nice bed. When she’s sleeping I like to knead it with my paws. I purr and drool, in ecstasy. When it is fluffed to my satisfaction, I curl up on it. Sometimes she makes a loud noise when I’m kneading and pushes me away. But I’m patient. Persistent. I wait. Then I sneak back and try again. Sometimes she sleeps through it, sometimes she makes an even louder noise than the first time and pushes me away again.

She sings. A lot. Usually on key, but sometimes in weird voices, using strange words that I know aren’t her native language. Sometimes I join in. Sometimes it scares me, her singing like that.

We howl together. I throw back my head Woooooo-woooohhh. Good times.

She talks a lot, even when nobody’s there to talk with her. Her attempts at conversation intrigue me. But I’m a dog, why’s she think I’m gonna talk back?

I like ya, Nance. It sucks you don’t have comments, but somehow I’ll survive. Comments, shmomments. Speaking of, I’ve tried responding on two Blogger blogs today, but the comments didn’t go through so forget it, I gave up.

. . .

I’m feeling lazy, so I’ll do a meme of sorts.

THREE
1.) How many links to do you have on your blogroll/link page? Do you visit all of the sites on your blogroll?
Too many. Not going to count them, either. No, I don’t visit them all. Not anymore. I just don’t have time or desire. But I keep them there for a rainy day.

2.) Does anyone you know in real life have a blog? Who?
Besides me? No. Well maybe. I’ve met Becky. She hasn’t updated in a while.

3.) What three sites do you visit every day?
Definitely Gmail (for personal and work)
my site (but sometimes skip a day or two)

. . .

I think I may turn down both job offers that I have right now. They are both in semi-regret. Money, I need more of. Time-hogs, I don’t. It is a balance. I will keep my ear to the ground, though, and will continue to try to be more thrifty. Frugal. Frank, on overtime, makes 4x my hourly salary. The smartest bet is for him to work overtime when possible.

. . .

Who says cats don’t have personality? As much as Fred is void of oodles of brain cells, he’s a sweet cat. Who loves boxes. And dog cages.

Click any for largerWho says the dog house is just for dogs? – Picasa

Food. Box. I need nothing else – Picasa

- Picasa

I was on time, everything on schedule. Kids out for the bus (early actually), my eggs in the pan, coffee brewing. The twins were already at the bus stop and the Squirrel Trapping Son had just walked out the door. As I waved to him through the window, he mouthed something to me. I couldn’t hear, I mouthed back. He shrugged, motioning for me to open the window, but it is cold and I didn’t want to let the cold air in. My eggs snapped and sizzled in the kitchen, bringing a little panic to the situation because momma don’t like crispy eggs. Since he was early out the door, I motioned for him to come back in and tell me his oh-so-important news. Then I went to the kitchen to check on the eggs. And waffles. I’ll admit. I subbed my (regular) toast today for waffles, which is probably the evil in it all.

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