I have told you before that Alfalfa is not a fan of strangers. He has two modes when there is a new person in the apartment: fight or flight. You have all read some of his funnier fight responses to a visitor. So, when one of my friends Dan came over to visit and pick up some stuff for school, I was not sure how he would react to the visit. This time he chose flight… It turned out that this was the wrong response for one big reason.
“Where’s Alfalfa?” Dan asked as he entered the apartment.
“I don’t know,” I replied looking around, “Somewhere…”
“Ok,” Dan said closing the door behind him. Just then Alfalfa must have heard his voice. He streaked out from under the desk and to his area under the bed. “Black streak!” Dan said through a giggle.
“Oh,” I said walking over to the desk. “I guess he’s not going to come out for you…” I said gathering the materials that my guest needed. “He’s gone into hiding, under the bed…” I laughed at my comment.
Dan walked over to the bed and lifted the skirt, “Hey, buddy!” he called. Alfalfa bolted from out of the bed and back to his desk area.
He must have been more concerned about Dan than me because he ran into my leg, bounced off it, turned, and frantically wiggled himself under the couch. I laughed at both the situation and the frantic butt wiggle I just saw. “You missed it!” I called to Dan. “He just wiggled himself under the couch…that was an awesome butt wiggle!” I laughed. Dan and I finished our visit and I saw him out.
“Is Alfalfa still under the couch?” Dan asked as he left.
“I guess,” I said plainly. “When he gets hungry, he’ll come out…”
“So about five minutes after I leave?” Dan asked.
“Yeah, that sounds about right!” I laughed. “See you at school.” Dan left. I closed and locked the door behind him. Retuning to my desk I looked around and didn’t see Alfalfa. I just assumed he had bolted back under the bed…
I started to work on my computer and heard a small noise. I listened…it was grunting. I assumed that Alfalfa was making out with his sock Rags. I giggled a bit and went back to my work. Five minutes later I heard a small whimper. “Dude?” I called. “You ok?” Silence. Alfalfa was up to something. I felt a small chill go up my back. I stood up and called, “Alfalfa?” I heard the whimper again. I looked around and didn’t see the trouble maker anywhere. “Dude?” I called again. Alfalfa didn’t respond. I sighed and began a methodical search for my guinea pig.
I check under the bed. No Alfalfa. I check in his pig-a-loo. No Alfalfa. I check under the desk. No Alfalfa. Where the heck was the bugger? I stopped in the middle of the apartment and called, “Alfalfa?” I heard a small whimper again. I went to the kitchen cabinet and checked it. Again, no Alfalfa.
I was getting frustrated. I walked over to the couch and sat down on the arm. Alfalfa squealed. I stood up. “Oh, my god!” I yelled and fell down to my knees. Had I just crushed my guinea pig under my couch? “Alfalfa?” I said to the couch and tried to pick it up. I managed to lift it about six inches. I expected a mad guinea pig to come running out. There was no Alfalfa. I put the couch down as gently as possible. Then I panicked.
I grabbed several books out of my book shelf. I managed to knock over several other books. I ran back over to the couch and got down on my hands and knees. My goal was to prop up the couch with book. Alfalfa must have heard me because he started to wheek frantically. “I’m coming, dude!” I yelled at the underside of the couch. I got one book under the back leg of the couch before my strength gave out.
I got down flat on my stomach to see what state Alfalfa was in. I saw a butt and a pair of back legs attempting to push out of something. It was pitiful. “I’m coming,” I said to the struggling back side of Alfalfa. He let out a loud wheek. I lifted the couch again and added another book. It was getting hard for me to lift the couch. I managed one more lift and book placement.
I got down again on my belly to see if Alfalfa was finally free. I saw something unexpected. Alfalfa was hanging from his mid-section half way in and half way out of the bottom of the couch lining. He was stuck. I laughed. He feet were going a mile a minute trying to get out of his couch-ly bondage. He started to wheek at me.
I reached under the couch and gently supported his butt. He stopped struggling. I placed my hand on his side to see how tight he was in there. The cloth was very snug around his mid-section. He was a round pet in a square hole in the couch. Alfalfa began to struggle again. “Dude,” I said in a gentle voice, “You need to be still.” I had to figure out how to get him out. I grabbed his exposed middle section gently and pulled. He didn’t budge. “Oh, Alfalfa,” was all I could get out. I was going to have to cut him out.
I gently let Alfalfa down an back into his hanging position. He immediately started to protest. I got up, ran to the kitchen, and threw open the utensil draw. I grabbed the first sharp knife I saw and ran back over to the couch. I got back down on my stomach and grabbed Alfalfa’s butt again. He squealed in protest. I picked a spot about four inches away from Alfalfa and started to cut around him. It was working.
When I was about half way through the circle I was cutting when Alfalfa started to struggle again. “Dude,” I said gently, “You want out? You need to stop.” I had to adjust my one handed grip on Alfalfa in order to prevent him from getting more caught up in the couch.
I had finally cut him out. There was only one problem…he had a skirt of liner around his mid-section. I put the knife down and went to pull Alfalfa from under the couch to work on this new secondary problem. He had other ideas. He bit my finger. My hand twitched and he took off…skirt and all. All I could do was nurse my new wound and get to work on patching up the new hole in the bottom of my couch. I got up and got out my selected patching material of choice: duct tape.
When the couch was repaired and put right, I set my sights on my guinea pig turned ballerina pig. “Alfalfa?” I called. There was no response. I picked up the skirt of the bed and found Alfalfa. “Hey, ballerina,” I called to annoy him. Alfalfa chattered his teeth at me in response. “You want me to cut that off of you?” Alfalfa chattered his teeth again at me. I reached in to grab him. He snapped at me. “Fine,” I said, “You can stay a girly-ballerina-pig for now.” I put the bed skirt down again.
I went to the couch and sat down to rest for a bit. I was exhausted. Alfalfa wandered out from under the bed about fifteen minutes later. He walked over to my feet and let out a pathetic wheek. “You want that off now?” I asked. Alfalfa wheeked again. He looked so pathetic.
I bent forward and scooped Alfalfa up and placed him on my lap. I began to work the skirt off of him slowly. It took me about five minutes of carful maneuvering to pull it off. When it came free, Alfalfa began to wiggle on my lap. I put him down and he began to run in circles. He was a happy pig. He began to popcorn around the room. I laughed at him.
“Dude, you are so silly,” I said to him as he happily ran. “Now let’s discuss how much I can charge you for the rescue and couch repairs.” Upon hearing my word, Alfalfa ran and hid under the bed. Oh, pig…