A new house has brought new responsibility into my life. The worst new thing I have to do is cut the grass. I hate cutting the grass. And the worse part? It keeps growing. That means I have to go back out there and cut it again! Who in their right mind would plant something that requires such a high level of maintenance? Seriously! I can barely keep plants alive and I’m expected to maintain an entire yard of grass… Whaaaa? That grass stands no chance… But, I digress…
I was out on Monday evening performing my least favorite task. I had to stop half way through cutting the grass to go and use the ladies room. After my business, I went upstairs to check on the boys. They don’t like loud persistent noises and I wanted to make sure they were okay. Fred and Lamont went crazy when I walked into the room. They danced, they strutted, they jumped, and they whined at me. “What’s up? Dudes?” I asked kneeling down. Lamont ran from the backside of the cage, jumped over the ramp and slid into the front bars. Fred was hot on his non-existent tail.
I giggled at their silliness. “Oh,” I sighed, “I’m happy to see you, too!” I put my hand down into the cage and began to pet Lamont’s head. He quickly shook his head and maneuvered such that he was standing with his paws on the back of my hand. “Silly, dude,” I said. Lamont began to lick my hand. “Monty?” I asked, “Do you two need a salt lick?” Fred began to sniff at my hands.
“Uhhhhh,” I stammered, “Yes, I did wash my hands after using the bathroom.” Fred began to lick my hand too. “What is up with you two?” I asked. “OHHHH!” I sighed several minutes later, “You guys smell the grass on my hands from emptying the lawnmower bag!” That’s when ‘Fangs-McGee’ showed up and tried to take a chomp out of my index finger. “OUCH!” I yelped as I pulled my hand out of the cage. “Someone bit me!” I added incase my guinea pigs needed clarification on what had just happened. “BOYS!” I admonished them both.
“Okathy,” I said with my finger in my mouth to stop the bleeding. “Whoth didth thattt?” They were both silent. “Finth,” I complained pulling my injured digit out of my mouth. “That wasn’t nice…” I added. Fred and Lamont stood there sniffing the air with an odd glazed over look in their eyes. “Are you two getting high? Off the smell of grass?” I asked in shock and dismay. “Oh, my!” I added as I got up and backed away from the boys’ cage. Their noises tracked me as I backed out of my room. I slowly closed the door behind me.
I have to Google that…’ I thought to myself as I headed back outside. So, I Googled: “Can guinea pigs get high off the smell of grass?” The Google search returned 14,000,000 possible matches in less than 1.5 seconds. ‘Wonderful,’ I thought to myself. ‘I’m just overreacting…as usual,’ I thought.
I went back to cutting the grass all of the time worrying about Fred and Lamont’s reaction to the smell of grass. My mind wandered as mower went: ‘Were they high? Could I turn them into grass addicts?’ It was all too much. The shear smell of gra… An odd smell drew me out of thoughts and back to the lawnmower. It was smoking. “CRAP!” I yelled letting go of the safety bar. The lawnmower protested and then stopped.
I grabbed the lawnmower handle and dragged the thing at top speed back to my hose. I hooked up the hose to the deck washer and turned on the water full blast. When that wasn’t enough to stop the smoke, I grabbed the pull cord, held the safety bar down, and let it rip. The lawnmower came back to life and water began to spew out from all sides of the deck. The smoke finally ceased. “Whew…” I sighed and let go of the safety bar. I turned off the water.
That’s when I heard my next-door neighbor laughing at me. “Hey,” he called from his yard.
“Hey,” I sheepishly responded trying not to draw too much attention to obvious mess I had just made next to my patio.
“You know,” he giggled, “They won’t catch on fire if you empty the bag when it’s full…”
“It’s not my fault!” I protested walking over to the fence that separates our yards.
“Ohhhh, nooooo?” he asked with a smirk. “Then who’s fault, is it?”
“My guinea pigs made me do this…” I plainly stated.
“Your guinea pigs?” he questioned.
“Yes,” I replied, “They cause me all sorts of issues…”
“This is a good story, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yeup,” I said.
It took me a good fifteen minutes of storytelling, explanations, and hand gestures to explain to him about Fred and Lamont. He found the entire situation humorous and familiar. He had his own stories to tell me about his dog “Tubbs” or we call him the “Yapper”. We both had a good laugh bonding over the crazy things our pets have done and made us do.
Once again, Fred and Lamont have made my life interesting. And once again, I’m perhaps the only person in the world that can say, “My guinea pigs almost caught my lawnmower on fire!” – KA