I am mystified by the ability of my guinea pig to captivate the attention of anyone or anything that enters my room.
My mother fawns over him. My dad says hello to him. My sister tries to steal him.
The dogs sit here for hours and stare at his cage, even though it's four feet in the air and they can't see him.
Sure, he's adorable, but hes not that adorable. His shrill squeaks awaken me every morning at sunrise, just so he can have baby carrots.
He shrieks even louder at night when it's time for him to eat his dinner, normally spinach.
Plainly put, my guinea pig, Hemingway, is a diva.
But he's adorable and furry, so I'll let all of his faults go.
It's kind of the same story with my grandfather.
-Oh, and I'll be watching the film A Walk To Remember later tonight, so expect a full report on that in tomorrow's blog. Because after all, I am a Mandy Moore fanatic.
Without all of the creepy hang-ups of course.
This cracked me up, not to mention the fact that he's named Hemingway.
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