All animals do some crazy things that their loving owns not only put up with but learn to love. How many dog owners see their dog dragging its butt across the rug and remark, “Oh! That’s so cute! The dog has an itchy butt…”? Or cat owners that have a dead bird dropped on the floor from their cat and say, “Oh! So, sweet! The cat has brought us a present!” All I can say is YUCK!
One of Alfalfa’s odder obsessions is with people’s toes. His attitude is something like, “If it’s a naked toe, its fair game!” Alfalfa doesn’t care whose toe he is going after. He has nipped at my toes, my mom’s toes, my step-dad’s toes, my friends’ toes, and even my tax lady’s toes. He never breaks the skin but you can tell that he’s gotten you. I’m not sure if the nip even hurts or it is the shock of being ‘gotten’ that sends the shock from your toe strait to your brain. Everyone always jumps and yells out when he does it. All that is left behind is a person with a perplexed face holding their toe wondering what the heck is going on.
Alfalfa is a professional toe nipper. He can sneak up on the most unsuspecting person. One time my mom was visiting me overnight. As she was getting ready for bed, she took off her socks and sat on couch. I warned her, “Don’t leave your toes naked…the guinea pig is going to get them.”
“No, my toes are fine…” she responded flippantly to me changing the channel.
“I’ve warned you. That’s all I’m going to say. I’ve warned you,” I sighed.
“Duly noted,” she said changing the channels again. I let out a sigh and sat next to her tucking my feet up under me on the couch.
The rug in front of the couch is one of Alfalfa’s favorite attack zones. I know this and tried to warn my mother of this. I tried two more times to warn her. She was having nothing of it. I even deflected two of Alfalfa’s attempted toe attacks. “Mom,” I pleaded with her. “The guinea pig is going to bite your toes…” She looked down at him sitting just off the runner in front of the couch.
“Not my Alfalfa!” she cooed to him. He looked back at her with large ‘I”m the cute one’ eyes. “Not that precious little thing…” She went back to watching TV. I got up and went into the bathroom.
I’m sure that Alfalfa’s moves were planned out and timed to coincide with my bathroom trip. As I was brushing my teeth I heard my mom scream. I jumped and hit the inside of my cheek with my toothbrush. Dropping the brush in the sink, I ran out to the living room to see what the heck was going on. My mom was standing on the couch with an incredulous look on her face. “He bit me!” she yelled as she pointed at the floor.
“Who? Alfalfa?” I asked.
“Yes!” She panted. “The guinea pig got my toe!”
“I warned you…” was all I could say. “Is it bleeding?” I asked. She sat down on the couch to inspect the potential damage.
“No,” she said with a grimace. She looked up at me and said, “But you are…”
“Huh?” I said wiping the excess toothpaste foam from my mouth. There was blood in it. “Oh,” I said walking back to the bathroom. I spit out the foam mixed with blood into the sink. As I rinsed I felt the sting of the cut in my mouth. “Ouch,” I moaned again as I opened my mouth to inspect the damage. My mom walked up behind me and put her hands on shoulders.
“So, I’m the one that got bit and you’re the one with the injury?” she teased. “Ironic…”
“Ha!” I said without humor. “And I warned you.”
“I know…” she said kissing the top of my head, “You did…”
“That guinea pig is going to kill me,” I remarked as a spit out more blood out of my mouth into the sink.
“I know,” she said again, “And that’s why you love him…”