We had intended to spend the weekend chasing up a cage in which to house our prospective housemate, a guinea pig. It was to be a birthday present for my wife April; serving as my companion when I am home alone during the day, we would fawn over our furry charge in the evenings.
Unable to have larger pets, such as dogs or cats, a guinea pig seemed like the perfect solution. Well, last evening, I took my wife by the local pet store to show her the candidates for occupation within our residence, and discovered that they had indeed a suitable cage that fit within our budget; a previous visit had only netted enclosures that were both far too large, and vastly too expensive.
As a result, a pig was picked on the spot, a short-haired, patchwork of a specimen; then we returned home, triumphantly, with our new friend, not too much lighter in the pocketbook. Although I had guinea pigs as a teenager, there has still been a bit of a learning curve as I re-acquaint myself with the particulars of pig care; they require daily dietary additions of Vitamin C, through the consumption of fresh vegetables, for example. Never feed iceberg lettuce, or potatoes to your pig, it will make them ill. Their dietary tract requires that they consume a daily quantity of grass or straw, and so on.
His (for he is a he) dialect of expressions is quite varied; Gig (short for pinny-gig) chirps and purrs, but has not yet squealed. One hopes to avoid provoking such a response, and that has to this point been successful; bribes with tasty vegetables have likely factored into his contentment. He is, understandably, a bit nervous still; only time will solve that concern but I can imagine he will become accustomed to his new surroundings in short order.
I pet him, a little, on his back earlier today and he muttered contentedly; it was a welcome sign. Later tonight we will take him out onto our bed for a little play time. It is nice to have someone to care for again.