So I was standing at my door talking with lady from across the hall. She was explaining to me, “Itz haz been much time since I bless El Diablo. Jes?”
“Well, yes,” I replied, “But, I have him in the bath right now…”
“Ok,” the lady said with what sounded like a note of finality. “He get clean and then be with Jesus.”
“No,” I said with a bit of pleading in my voice, “He’s busy, he’s washing his fur…”
“Jes,” the lady responded, “You see El Diablo come be blessed.”
“What?” I asked.
“Look,” she whispered and pointed into my apartment. I knew what I was going to see when I turned around. However, that knowledge did not abate my shock at the sight. Alfalfa was in the middle of the living room. He was soaking wet and covered in soap foam. He was staring back at me as if to say, ‘Well, you were gone too long. I got bored. So I just help myself out of the tub. Well, what do you have to say about it? Because, I really don’t care…’ (He’s good at those types of looks.)
“Es El Diablo!” she said in broken English her terror causing her to revert to her native language.
“Alfalfa!” I yelled.
Now, let me stop here and impart some knowledge on you… Did you know that guinea pigs can shake, just like dogs? It’s mostly their head. They shake and it makes this cute sound with their ears as they flap against the head. It’s best heard in skinny pigs. I’ve heard it called an ‘ear flap’. Well, that’s what Alfalfa did to clear the water from his ears.
*Shake, shake, shake* went my guinea pig and fly, fly, fly went the water and soap… everywhere. I was flabbergasted. “Oh, you little pain in the ass,” I said lunging for my devil pig.
Here’s another factoid for your day: Did you know that wet guinea pigs with soap on them are very slippery? I knew that. I know that. But somehow in the heat of anger I forgot that fact. I got my hands on the black beast and he slid out of my grasp. I was left behind with wet and soapy hands. Alfalfa darted under the bed.
There was water everywhere. And to make matters worse, the lady from across the hall was standing in my door with her rosary beads saying the rosary. “Ok,” I said declaring an end to the show, “Have a good day, dear,” I said closing the door leaving a scared and perplexed lady from across the hall at my door.
I turned and surveyed the mess. Water everywhere? Check. Most like water all over the bath room? I walked over and looked into the bath room. Check. Wet hands? Check. Rouge wet and soapy guinea pig. Check. Could it get any worse? And then it did. “Alfalfa,” I called.
My monster trotted out from under the bed. His fur looked odd. As I bent down to try to pick him up again, I saw that there were beans attached to his fur. He had been rolling in his beans. “Are those b-beee,” I started but was interrupted with another ear flap from Alfalfa. More water, soap, and freshly moistened beans flew everywhere in the hall to the bathroom.
“THAT’S IT!” I yelled and Alfalfa jumped. “THAT IS IT,” I yelled again and lunged for the soggy butt head. I saw panic in his eyes. I was blocking his escape route. He turned and ran into the bathroom. He got up to the tub and began to wheek in distress. I entered the bathroom and closed the door.
“Oh,” I said, “Now you want the soap off? You’re lucky it doesn’t hurt your eyes, moron.” I scooped up Alfalfa and put him into the tub again. It took me another five minutes to wash off the soap and finish cleaning him. When I was finished, I wrapped him in a towel. I let him sit in the warm bathroom, on the floor, wrapped in his towel until I was done cleaning his mess.
Once he was mostly dry, I released the Kraken from his prison and went to sit on the couch. I was tired. No, I was exhausted. As I sat, I drifted off. I was rudely awakened by a loud screech from Alfalfa. It was dinner time for him and I was officially five minutes late. “Seriously, dude?” I yawned, “After all that? Now you want dinner?” Alfalfa excited danced at my feet. He had forgotten the whole bathing incident. Typical boar…