Jump to content
EN
Play

Forum

What Goes On In the Minds of My Pets


 Share

Recommended Posts

I currently have four pets (though I will change their names for the sake of their privacy): a dog named Bane, two guinea pigs named Rose and Tulip, and a rat named Reepicheep, and they are all crazy. Sometimes my friends and family think I have gone mad because I would be better off teaching a fruit fly how to sit, than my dog.

 

Sometimes I agree with them.

 

 

 

Let’s get into the animals, shall we?

 

 

Bane

 

Bane is 35-pound dog with 3.5 brain cells. He goes into our backyard every single day and spends a minimum of 5 hours a day talking to his only neighbors—three dogs. I have yet to figure out whether they’re his friends, enemies, or frenemies. He barks, and howls, and claws and chews at the fence which separates him from them. “Lemme at ‘im!” he seems to say, every day. “Lemme at ‘im!”

 

And yet, when Bane has had chances to prove his bravery—in the instances when one of the dogs manages to jump over the fence—Bane seems to have forgotten his previous barks. The only thing he seems to remember the use of are his legs.

 

And then there’s the unexplainable fear of ordinary household objects. Is Bane scared of knives? No. Is he scared of serial killers or fire? No. Bane is scared of Slinkys, clothes hampers, and toes.

 

 

 

Rose

 

Rose is a guinea pig, composed mainly of black, white, and butterscotch-colored fur. If you or I were to drink a glass of water, and we were to drink all the water in it, we would probably notice, and either refill the cup or stop trying to drink from it.

 

Not Rose.

 

Her brain tells her very few things, but one of the things it tells her is: “Chew on water bottle. Get water.” These directions are correct most of the time, but not when the water bottle is empty. When the water bottle is empty, no matter how hard or for how long you suck on it, it will still be empty. But after her four years of living in this world, does Rose grasp that concept? No. All her brain grasps is, “I have been chewing for twenty minutes and no water has come. Hmm. Time to chew some more until I wake up my owner at two in the morning and force her to get me more water.” It happens almost every single night.

 

 

Tulip

 

Tulip is Rose’s sister, and like Rose (and all other guinea pigs), she’s shaped like a potato, she doesn’t have a neck, and her tiny feet can barely support her barrel of a body.

 

I honestly don’t know why people who write pet care books would say that guinea pigs are easy to care for. This seems wrong, and the only thing I can think of to excuse it is that they either don’t own a guinea pig (in which case why in the world would they be writing a book about guinea pigs), or they have servants obeying their every beck and call taking care of their pets for them. Guinea pigs are certainly not easy to care for. Is it "easy" that it eats so much of its food that you have to buy two bags every month? Is it "easy" that it could wipe your whole fridge clean of all its fruits and vegetables in twenty seconds flat? Is it "easy" that it sometimes squeaks and squeaks for hours nonstop?

 

If you’re considering buying a guinea pig because you think it will be easy to care for, please go and buy a goldfish instead.

 

 

Reepicheep

 

If you’ve ever been to New York City, you’ll have a pretty good idea of what Reepicheep looks like. To put it simply, she is a fat, ugly rat. Even worse than Rose, she’ll chew up her water bottle so that it can no longer hold any water. She’s ruined eight water bottles so far. Once I got so fed up with this that, even though everyone told me not to, I just put a bowl of water in her cage and made her deal with that. But, like every single other one of my pets, she has a brain the size of a lentil and literally did not figure out how to drink from the bowl. So I had to go back to water bottles again.

 

She will also eat anything. She’ll eat a sausage I dropped on the floor. She’ll eat chocolate pretzels with maggots in them. And she’ll eat shampoo, which she did once. I’ve expected her to die ever since, but somehow, eating shampoo did not kill her.

 

Beats me.

 


 

This piece may have given off the impression that I don’t like my pets. On the contrary, I love them. They’re someone to talk to on a bad day. Someone to cuddle with when it’s cold outside. Someone to try and teach tricks to, even if the only thing they know how to do is eat. Someone to yell at and someone to apologize to. So, if you’re considering getting a dog, a guinea pig, or a rat, and you fear that they may be stupid, fear no longer, for I took one for the team. I officially bought the most stupid animals in the world.

  • Like 9

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Approved.


 


Great piece and overall pretty accurate. You clearly have some completely bonkers pets, but it makes for hilarious reading :P


 


Edits:


·        A few excess words removed for clarity


·        I assumed (in the last paragraph) that you meant that pets were someone to cuddle when cold, rather than warm?


·        Minor formatting changes (spacings before and after the headings, adding space between paragraphs)


 


The paragraph about whether or not guinea pigs are easy to look after was a bit clunky overall. I would suggest comparing my edits to the original (I still have a copy if you need) to see what I changed/improved.


 


(If you want a more comprehensive list of edits, feel free to PM me).

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

My dog eats shampoo too. He also licks crevices and snacks on the excrement of every animal he can find.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

 Share

×
×
  • Create New...