Zippie was my last guinea pig; she was an end of school
present. My mom always took my sister
and me shopping after the last day of school and allowed us to choose a
present. I’m sure there must have been
some sort of price constraint, but I can’t remember what it was. I don’t remember either of us ever asking for
anything too extravagant, until the end of fourth grade for me and second grade
for my sister.
We somehow wheedled, whined, and cajoled our way into
stopping by the pet department, “just to look”.
I’m still not sure how we even convinced my mom to let us near the pet
department; I’m guessing we’d hatched the plan earlier and decided to work
together for a change. My sister was the
World-Class Whining Champion when she was a kid, and I was just plain
pig-headed. So we ended up in the pet
department; looking turned into petting, which tuned into holding, which lead
to tearful pleas of “I just love this one so much! Can’t we keep her?” We ultimately left the store with a hamster
for my sister and a guinea pig for me, along with the proper cages, food,
dishes, treats, toys, etc. I would like
to state that I was not responsible for Zippie’s name. That was all my mom’s doing. She had tried to name me, and then my sister,
Zippie. Mercifully, my dad intervened
and saved us both from that fate. I
think naming Zippie was possibly a bargaining chip in going home with a hamster
and a guinea pig when we were supposed to just be looking. On a side note, this turned out to be the
last end of the school year shopping trip.
We’d had various rodents before; hamsters, gerbils, and
guinea pigs, so we were no strangers to caring for them. There was one major difference that no one
had factored in, however. The only cat
in the house during the lives of the previous rodents was my mom’s anciently
old cat Butterscotch. Butterscotch was
old, about 16 at that point, and his idea of a good time was a long nap without
either of us trying to bother him. I’m
pretty sure we could have plunked the rodents down in his food dish and he
wouldn’t have bothered them. The year
before, thanks to another collaboration between my sister and me, we had
persuaded our parents to get us kittens.
The kittens were now about a year old.
Their idea of a good time did not include a quiet nap.
Those of you who’ve ever had guinea pigs know that their
cages (at least the cages from 20 years ago) aren’t the most secure things. Guinea pigs are not ambitious; they don’t
hatch escape plots. Their cages are more
or less a wire and plastic pen designed to keep them in a safe area with access
to food and water. They definitely don’t
keep cats out.
Fortunately we realized this before any real harm, other
than the psychological variety, came to Zippie.
My dad rigged up some extra wiring designed to keep the cats out of the
guinea pig cage. They were still able to
get their paws in the very top of it, but they couldn’t reach far enough in to
make contact with Zippie. This didn’t
stop them from trying, and it didn’t stop them from spending hours staring into
the cage obviously fantasizing about a meal of fresh guinea pig.
Needless to say, this made taking Zippie out of her cage to
play with her extremely hard to do. We
had to herd the cats out of my room and slam the door before we could take
Zippie out for anything, and they would still sit in the hallway and reach their
paws under my door. Even at 10 years old
I realized this was not good for Zippie, and that we were probably on borrowed
time before one of the cats did more than scare her half to death.
I’d never made a decision about a pet before, other than
what to name them. I wasn’t sure about doing the right thing for
a pet; my parents made all of those decisions.
I realized more and more every day that life for Zippie wasn’t good at
our house. We had a friend who loved
Zippie and had no cats. I began to
wonder if Zippie might be happier with our friend.
I tearfully, and with full 10 year old drama, informed my
parents of my thoughts on Zippie’s life.
My mom called the friend I’d talked about and they readily agreed to
take Zippie. My parents explained that
once I gave her up I couldn’t take her back and that I couldn’t go and choose
another pet. I had to decide if I wanted
to be selfish and keep her, or if I wanted to give her up, and allow her to
have a better life. I chose to give her
to the friend, where she lived quite happily.
I’m not sure if my parents would have intervened if I hadn’t
come to them with the idea of finding a better home for Zippie. I suspect that they knew I was coming to that
idea, and thought it would be best for me to reach that conclusion on my
own. I think the opportunity for a great
lesson on responsible pet ownership unexpectedly presented itself, and they
gave me the chance to learn.
I do feel like I learned a valuable lesson; I still have the
tendency to want to take home every animal I find, but I’ve learned to at least
try to weigh the consequences; how they’ll get along with the current pets,
etc. I don’t think anyone expected my
end of school present to turn into a life lesson, but it did, in the form of a
guinea pig named Zippie.
What a charming story and what a perfect way to end the challenge.
ReplyDeleteSweet story, congrats on finishing your A-Z Challenge!
ReplyDeleteSuch a touching story! What a hard life lesson to learn, but I'm sure it's served you well. Even an adult would have a hard time choosing the least selfish path for a pet, I can't even imagine a child coming to that decision. A testament to your parents and the child they raised :)
ReplyDelete~Lynn
http://www.acommonsea.com
What a lovely story, and I agree with Lynn - I'm impressed that at the age of 10 you were mature enough to come to that decision :)
ReplyDeleteAlso well done for getting to z! I'm looking forward to reading your non alphabet-based posts in the future :)