Posted by: kerryannekay | May 7, 2014

Alfalfa Wheeks

Happy Wednesday to all. I find myself slaving over the computer keys because my mother is lazy. Yes, lazy. She was too busy to write the blog this week. So, I grabbed the computer and started typing away. I figure now is as good a time as any to correct all the lies my mother tells about me. I’m just simply embarrassed about this. *sigh*

Jumping Bath – Ok, let me get this fact out. I do not like baths. That being said, I want to dispute that as the main reason I jumped out of the bath tub the other week. The water was getting cold. I wanted to get my mom and tell her to add warm water to the tub. But when I yelled and yelled, she didn’t come. She was too busy talking to that lady from across the hall. So, I took matters into my own hands. You can’t blame me for that. Can you?

Stinky Boar – Did you know that it is the job of all male guinea pigs to smell wonderful for their ladies? Well, it is and I take my role very seriously.   I mean I haven’t meet my one and only. But, hey, she could knock at my door any minute. Look, to put it simply, my mom just doesn’t understand us boars. We do not smell, ever. We elude the smell of romance.

That Lady – Ok, look, that lady from across the hall is crazy. She constantly wants to throw water on me. I don’t like baths. So, it goes to logic that I would not like having water thrown on me. It messes up my fur. Then I have to groom myself. Who wants to spend all of their free time grooming? Not me. I’ve got things to do. Those naps aren’t going to take themselves. That food isn’t going to eat itself.

Grass – I do not have a grass problem. I do admit to have a strong liking for it. But I could survive without it. I could do it. Ok, I could survive a day or two without grass. I mean I wait 24 hours to get it. How hard could another couple of hours be? It’s not like mom is late right now with my grass. It’s 6:05 pm. It was supposed to be here at six. Five more minutes is no big deal. I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m ok. Mom? Mom? WHERE IS MY GRASS? WHERE IS MY GRASS? I’m going to die…

*munch, munch* Well, *munch, munch* that’s it. *burp* I hope *munch, munch* you *munch, munch* enjoyed my blog. *munch, munch* I can’t *munch, munch* type and eat my grass. *munch, munch* Talk to you later. *munch, munch*

– Alfalfa


  1. Dear Alfalfa, I’ve always thought that boars have a delicious smell, sort of like sunlight and butter. I just don’t understand why your mom wants to get rid it! But she loves you, so try to be patient with her foibles. 😉

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