According to my west coast brother, today is Guinea Pig Appreciation Day. I told him, when I learned this, that I do appreciate Guinea pigs as long as they are not living in a cage in my house. Once, years ago, I read a very funny short story about a Guinea pig population explosion (they are as prolific as rabbits) called "Pigs Is Pigs." Somehow, in all my years of involvement with kids and grandkids, we have avoided having Guinea pigs as pets. We did, however, have mice. It wasn't exactly intentional. One early spring day when we lived in rural southeastern Ohio my husband decided to get out his Yamaha trail bike, which had not been ridden all winter, and give our two kids some rides on the back country road. Much to his surprise, when he started it up, ten baby mice came shooting out of the exhaust pipe. Evidently mama mouse had decided that was a fine place to have her babies. Being a kind hearted soul, and because the kids were watching, my husband lined a shoe box lid with paper towels and put the babies in it. Of course our children wanted to keep them all but my husband said we had to leave them in the shoebox over night so the mommy could come get them. If they were still there in the morning, he said, the kids could keep them. They were not there in the morning. I never asked and did not need to know how they disappeared, but the result was that we ended up buying two white mice, with cages and all other "necessary" equipment. I don't remember how long those mice lived. They were not neglected, but I think, like goldfish, they don't live a really long time. Happily, a stray kitten came into our lives about that time (no she did not eat the mice!) and she was of much more interest to the children. So a happy ending all around.
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