Sigh

This is The Ladies' hay bowl.

Five seconds before this picture was taken, all five ladies were happily eating the hay inside of it. I ruined it when I showed up with camera in hand. I had a post fermenting in my head about gluttony, and Swoosie, the eldest lady, had plopped herself right in the middle of the bowl, thereby keeping 75% of the hay away from everyone else.

Only Wheezy Jefferson was brave enough to keep eating throughout the others' stampede. And no, she doesn't usually douse herself with hay. That is the result of the other ladies running for their lives. I would say that Wheezy's mother didn't raise her to be a fool, but her mother is Swoosie, so that doesn't apply. I guess in her gut, she knew not cowering with the crowd would give her all of the rewards.

Kiddo realizes that Wheezy now has ALL OF THE HAY. Unthinkable!

Meanwhile, here's Swoosie...the very reason I tried to take the picture at all...hiding, and what a clever spot she chose tonight.

Perhaps a therapist can one day explain to me why I gravitate toward animals who are afraid of almost everything. What does that say about me? Nothing I can feel good about.

Blessed Are The Nap-Takers...

for they shall give The Human peace.

Bless those closed-eyes, that even breathing, the dreams which occupy the nap-taker.

Bless the miracle of life to keep on going, even when the nap-taker defies it by sleeping in a position which does not suport breathing.

Best of all...bless the quiet.

This is the alternative to napping. The irritated tilt of the ears.

The seething rage behind those beautiful blue eyes.

And unfortunately, the inevitable violence.

Betrayal

Someone Special visited the vet yesterday...

and he couldn't have been happier about it.

Here's my radioactive-looking hand stroking Sam's butt, which usually has him dancing around and loving life. Alas, no response.

Clearly the expression of a burdened soul. How could his life have come to this? Such sadness in those normally innocent and cheerful eyes. "How could you?" that face asks.

But Sam has a most forgiving nature. He moves forward, firmly shutting the door on his past grievances. He returns to his greatest joys...watching The Ladies


and allowing me to pet him and shower him with compliments.

It Could Be Worse--The Maggie Christmas Chronicles

Since I'm blogging anyway, I might as well mention that My Most Faithful Reader was kind enough to send a couple of pics of his feline dominatrix admiring her christmas tree.

Hmmm...I suppose since we do live in such a PC world, even the devil is entitled to enjoy Christmas.

Catch Me If You Can

These are my attempts at taking Francis' picture. For a pretty young lad, he is quite camera shy.

When all else fails, stare at a wall and pretend that The Human is not there. Francis is not the first pig to try this little trick. Maybe its not me, though. Perhaps walls really are that fascinating. Do they actually talk, Francis?!? Do they?!?

Some pigs would suffer through a picture rather than allow their poop to be photographed. Okay, I don't know of any pigs who are fussy about poop, but Ooolah, the kit-ten, is certainly fussy enough about it. She despises anyone even walking past her litter box when she is...I shan't say "pooping," rather catching up on the latest magazines. Anyway, she doesn't like her reading to be seen by others.

As for Francis, he's perfectly content to be neither seen nor heard. His rump as he runs away, may be the most common photograph ever taken of him. He's not in this life for the glory.

Birthday Boy!

Today, three years ago, Jonesy (seen on the right side in the above pic, pestering Sam) came into this world. I can't say he was a Christmas gift, although considering some of the crappy gifts I've received over the years, perhaps he would fit right in...BUT we aren't going to talk badly about the youngest member of our little family on his special day (even though it was certainly a tradition on my own birthday with my parents and grandparents...but I'm trying to put that behind me!), so Happy Birthday Jones!

It Could Be Worse - The Maggie Chronicles

While I'm keeping my germs to myself and avoiding my pets (much to their delight), I thought this would be a good time to share the shenanigans of My Most Faithful Reader and his disturbed, violent and perhaps in need of medication cat, Maggie aka Maggasaurus Rex:

Imagine hair, pointy ears and a tail and the above picture is pretty much what I imagine as I listen to My Most Faithful Reader scream and squeal while he dodges the attentions of his bloodthirsty kitty. In reality, this is the image Maggie chooses to show the world:

Just your average-looking, non-descript, run o' the mill cat. Nothing special here. A cat one could merely walk right past without a thought. Maggie is so very ordinary. Or is she?

Is this merely a ruse, a clevery disguise meant to camoflauge her true nature--blood lust and utter selfishness? Only in the dark arts does M-Rex become much more unique. This cat does not purr, cuddle or even meow. She's a silent force, lurking under beds and around corners--or even making her own dark hide-aways,

until one day, she snaps.

If only the firemen fighting that blaze could see what we see now, the expression of calm evil on one who knows that she has scored a point for the dark arts. Those firemen wouldn't bother to look to the humans for the answer to who caused that fire. If only they knew of this cat and her daily rage. Would you want to share a bed with such a loose cannon?

Sleep with one eye open, My Most Faithful Reader--especially because Maggie has been known to try to peel your eyelids off with her claws. And Good Luck to you. Good Luck.

Out Sick

I have The Cold and no one wants to be near me and my germs.

Clearly, no one is bringing me soup and orange juice or picking up my snotty Kleenex.

I shall return.

In the meantime, by the time I get back to posting, hopefully one of my two readers will have added agirlandherpigs.blogspot.com to her list of many, many links on her own blogs. Blogs, I might add, I kindly linked on my own blog. Hint...hint.

For Kit-tens

Ooolah, the cat, better hope that I don't come into a lot of money in the near future, http://www.kittywigs.com/

These are my two favorites, Pink Passion and Silver Fox. I think they're both very flirty and totally Ooolah-appropriate. She does fancy herself a Diva. Too bad she ranks at #11 in the house rankings. Ten guinea pigs are ahead of her. I try to tell her that the human in the house ranks dead last at #12, but she still has memories of her youthful glory days when she was the #1 and the only one.

Kittywigs even come with their own carrying cases.

According to the website, "The package also includes complete instructions for care, suggestions from professional photographers, and a mouse with rattle to help you direct Kitty's stunned gaze. Every kitty loves the promise of a new toy for model behavior."

The Most Coveted Spot

Now that winter has hit the city, extra blankets, pillows and such are added to each cage...ahem...Home for extra warmth and snuggles. For The Ladies, there is one particular spot everyone wants:

From top, Isabella (not caring about The Most Coveted Spot, rather hopeful for some tasty edible goodies), counterclockwise, Swoosie, in The Almost Most Coveted Spot, and Kiddo,

T.M.C.S. winner...for now.

Alas, you know how cruel girls can be. Soon Kiddo found herself displaced...

by Wheezy Jefferson, who we've already established is a saucy minx, and that kind always enjoys life's luxuries and more importantly, believes they deserve them. Wheezy can't even bother herself to interrupt her nap to give me an offended glare. She is blissfully unaware.

Ina wants it known that she also managed quality time in T.M.C.S.

Ooolah, the cat, has found a new coveted spot of her own (notice the radiator, forgotten like last week's fad diet).

Laundry bags...with the guinea pigs laundry, no less (clean, of course!) is the item of the week. Whether overseeing her imaginary kingdom or lounging, Ooolah rarely strays from this new hangout.

If only she would contribute to the upkeep of her new spot by laundering the contents, but alas, there is much grooming to be done. Beauty doesn't maintain itself.

I Don't Understand...

all of the popularity lately with napping head-down first. Wheezy was doing a version of this last night too.

Here's Sam post nap. He looks like he's still working through all of the mental kinks from the blood rushing into his head.

Around Town

Taking a break from pig and feline activities, agirlandherpigs has something to say about the holiday decorations in front of the mayor's building in our town of Chicago.

Hmm...just between you and me and anyone else who listens to me throughout the day, this sucks, doesn't it? I get the theme and all, and I'm sure the brainchild of this particular display probably thought it was awfully clever. This person probably also makes $100,000+ a year and most likely is a relation or longtime crony of our wonderful mayor. Now, I'm fussy in that I have a problem with natural adversaries hanging out together. I don't like it in Coke advertising, and I don't like it here.

Add the Ikea furniture, the overall cheapness of everything and the bad idea itself, and its no wonder more people (and not a big crowd at that) are interested in the pigeons hanging out by the eternal flame:

Even the fake bulldog is over it.