11/9.
Or for you Americans.
9/11.
Your dates are stupid.
Anyway. It wasn't just the day your towers got
blown away by planes. Or the day that many
people were killed and injured.
No.
It was the day my guinea-pig died.
I know. Lame. But still. He was my friend. More
than just a pet. As sad as that may sound.
We sat together and watched T.V. He pooped on
my carpet, peed on my shirts, ate too much, he
knew when I was sad. And would just sit with me
and not poo or pee on me. He'd eat parts of my
homework just so I could get away with not doing
it. I taught him how to walk on his back paws. He
even knew that food came from the fridge and he
would squeak at me until I brought him back some
thing. And then we would chill.
Not only I loved him, the whole family did. Even the
ones that were allergic to him. He was that cool.
I got him when he was 3 and a half years old. That's
pretty old for a guinea pig, but he was the best one
there. Just being fat and sleeping in the corner of the
cage. I picked up everyone of them, held them, but
I hated them. Not soft, too fuzzy, too twitchy, one bit
me. But then it came to him. He looked up and walked
to the edge of the cage, and i picked him up. And oh
baby, i loved him straight away.
Now, 6 and a half years later, he's gone.
6 and a half years of memories.
6 and a half years didn't seem long enough.
I thought he'd live forever.
And all I want is him back.
///wrists
Or for you Americans.
9/11.
Your dates are stupid.
Anyway. It wasn't just the day your towers got
blown away by planes. Or the day that many
people were killed and injured.
No.
It was the day my guinea-pig died.
I know. Lame. But still. He was my friend. More
than just a pet. As sad as that may sound.
We sat together and watched T.V. He pooped on
my carpet, peed on my shirts, ate too much, he
knew when I was sad. And would just sit with me
and not poo or pee on me. He'd eat parts of my
homework just so I could get away with not doing
it. I taught him how to walk on his back paws. He
even knew that food came from the fridge and he
would squeak at me until I brought him back some
thing. And then we would chill.
Not only I loved him, the whole family did. Even the
ones that were allergic to him. He was that cool.
I got him when he was 3 and a half years old. That's
pretty old for a guinea pig, but he was the best one
there. Just being fat and sleeping in the corner of the
cage. I picked up everyone of them, held them, but
I hated them. Not soft, too fuzzy, too twitchy, one bit
me. But then it came to him. He looked up and walked
to the edge of the cage, and i picked him up. And oh
baby, i loved him straight away.
Now, 6 and a half years later, he's gone.
6 and a half years of memories.
6 and a half years didn't seem long enough.
I thought he'd live forever.
And all I want is him back.
///wrists
