House guest number 736 arrived with her lovely children.
Had she not been an old college room mate the phone would never have been answered after house guest 735.
But saying no wasn’t an option for my friend who lives within a stones throw of Mickey and all things Disneyish. And why not? What was 1 more house guest on top of bringing home the bacon, cooking it up, parenting, marriage, community service and cleaning her son’s guinea pigs cage?
Now the question was how to keep the children of houseguest 736 busy until her son Martin was out of school?
Jasper. Of course.
Jasper was the families beloved, fourth guinea pig. And because of this everyone knew Jasper was special. Like house guest number 736 – Jasper hailed from an entirely different planet than other guinea’s. A fur ball of love. Oh yes, he was.
“Girls, come with me- ...” She said rushing down the hall to clear a trail through Martin’s bedroom. Tossing the basketball jersey on the bed she picked up Martin’s X-Box controller.
Weird. What was Jasper doing laying down in the middle of his cage at 2:10 P.M?
Walking toward Jasper she stared at his motionless body.
Jasper wasn’t sleeping…Jasper was dead. DEAD. DEAD. Very dead.
Turning she caught the girls before they entered Martin’s room. “Ladies it appears Jasper is asleep, we’ll have to reschedule…”
Staring at the deceased guinea she remembered back to when pig number three died. Martin who was seven at that time had barricaded himself in the bathroom threatening to drink mouthwash until he died too.
Being ten was difficult enough. She refused to have him find guinea number four- dead, dead and deader.
If she could bring home the bacon, serve it up, entertain house guest 736 – she could handle being the undertaker for guinea pig number 4.
Grabbing a plastic bag she hurried to wrap Jasper up and then snuck out to the garage to hide him away.
Of course she’d tell Martin but not before Mickey and Disney and houseguest 736 and her children were out of earshot.
This all was her fault. She knew it. Clearly she was the reason all their guinea pigs died. It had to be those early rebellious years of hers and all those bad decisions like wearing that American flag to the KISS concert and refusing to wear underpants for an entire year – just because everyone else was.
Dead. Dead. And deader. Guinea pig four- was.
Is The Guinea Pig Dead?
Death. Life. Loves and losses. Oh how my heart hurts when death strikes and loss wins. And because I’ve lost things much more important than a guinea pig I’ve learned that there is nothing more valuable than sharing the love and friendship of another. It’s too late when they are dead. And it’s too late when the moment has been lost. Now – is my only chance to open my heart and give like there’s no tomorrow…even though mostly it hurts to open a heart that’s been wounded and damaged by losses in the past. And still I want to. Love and cherish, respect and honor and do life closely with people I trust and love and then love strangers because GOD has so healed the parts of me that are mostly scared of loving and not being loved back or worse yet loving and having those you love die or lose their way back to you. Love. It is the greatest gift. Death – it hurts and so do losses and friendships that no longer exist…Death. Life. Loves and losses. Oh please God help me keep this heart wide open even when I want to clamp it down tight…and just forget about ever loving again…just in case someday someone dies…dies..or leaves …