The Pig And I - From the mouth of babes Blog at - 154893

From the mouth of babes

The pig and I 
Feb. 3, 2010 10:20 am 
Updated: Feb. 4, 2010 2:47 pm
Hey guys, it's chilly outside and cozy inside, so I think we know what that means: blog time. Recently, a development in the behavior of my guinea pig of three years, Pippa, proved too funny to overlook as writing material.

You see, Pippa’s cage is located in our kitchen, adjacent to the refrigerator. In our family, I'm always the first one up and about in the mornings. Step 1: brew coffee. There is no point in me making breakfast prior to coffee; I would probably just end up setting something on fire (and I'm not talking banana fosters). But that’s beside the point. What I mean to say is that Pippa feels very strongly that Step 1 leaves room for improvement so long as it does not include the words “feed” and “pet.”

Even though L’Auberge Chez Pippa provides a 24 hour buffet service, complete with dry pellets and hay, a special breakfast menu is required to satiate our pig’s appetite. At first, she underwent a carrot phase, during which we must have blown thousands of dollars buying her baby carrots as a morning treat. At mom's suggestion, tangerine slices were added for extra vitamin C. On rare occasion, apple slices were deemed acceptable. Anything and everything else was scrutinized viciously, but left uneaten.

If kept waiting, the acute howls of a dying hyena would overtake our small dining room, as if demanding to speak with my manager. Sure enough, this summons my mother, who, like any good French woman, insists that “mon cheri has not had enough to eat," and doubles her snack dosage. Don't mind me mom, I'll just enjoy my left over pizza quietly in this corner over here.

However, what happened a few days ago not only surpassed my expectations concerning the guinea pig diet; it gave me an entirely new respect for animal intelligence.

It would appear that Pippa has been leading a double life all these years: guinea pig by day, produce inspector by night. We had run out of tangerine, and my mother tentatively handed her a sliver of orange for the greater good of our ear drums. This was immediately rushed into the small purple igloo where I assume Pippa first developed a taste for premium Florida oranges. From that point on, she has yet to accept tangerine or clementine in exchange. Lower grade oranges are bitten into and immediately regurgitated, followed by more insufferable whining.

This morning as I handed Pippa a slice of the good stuff, I hung around to watch her eat. To my surprise, she did not touch the orange. Baffled, I went to get my mug of coffee, determined to wait her out. But as I lifted my drink to my lips, Pippa took her first bite. I put the cup down and she stopped as well. I took another sip, and she another bite. We ended up finishing our breakfasts together.

I can now say with pride that my family pet grasps not one, but two essentials of cooking:
1. Organic fruits yield better juice.
2. Meals are just that much more delicious when shared with someone you love.
Feb. 3, 2010 10:31 am
What a lovely story! And beautifully written, too! I had a pet guinea pig, Patches, when I was younger and I know all too well that screeching you describe! My poor Dad couldn't sneak a midnight snack, because if he opened up any of the drawers in the fridge, Patches would scream "EEEEE! EEEEE! EEEEEE!" and wake up the entire house!
Feb. 4, 2010 9:53 am
Cute story! Thanks for sharing!! :)
Feb. 4, 2010 2:47 pm
So funny! A friend of mine also keeps her g-pig in the kitchen nook, where she has an open-top cage with an igloo in it. My friend's g-pig listens for the sound of the fridge opening and plastic bags rattling, at which time she begins her medley of squealing and chortling, begging for a treat. That's the only time she asserts herself; the rest of the time she's very shy and retiring!
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About Me
I discovered this site one morning when I had been craving french toast and the family was not yet awake to help me out. Until that day I had never really known what french toast was made from. I don't think I've been this addicted to a site since my childhood Neopets obsession.
My favorite things to cook
desserts of course
My favorite family cooking traditions
My mother is a french catholic who married into an old jewish family. As such, our holiday meals always consist of matzah ball soup and buche de Noelle; a truly devine combination.
My cooking triumphs
- poaching an egg all by myself - receiving the most praise from anyone who prepared anything for this year's thanksgiving dinner (I made a lovely banana cake) - preparing lunch for the occupants of an abused women's shelter in my neighborhood
My cooking tragedies
Omitting the sugar and doubling the vanilla from a batch of sour cream pancakes. Never has an attempt at healthy cooking gone so utterly wrong.
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