I was walking up the stairs to my boyfriend’s apartment, glued to my phone, when I heard a rustling sound from the bushes. My eyes followed the noise, expecting a squirrel or a rat. The rats in this neighborhood were becoming too much. At night, they run a three-man-weave through the alley garbage cans.
Instead of a rat, I saw two stout, round, furry bodies, each about the size of a slipper. They wiggled while a boy snapped photos, his mom standing nearby. He towered over the creatures’ heads, the Giant to their Jack.
I asked what type of animal they were.
Guinea pigs! said the mom. They like to soak up the sun, she explained, and it was her job to scan the neighborhood for threats, like dogs.
The duo seemed to enjoy themselves. They nosed the ground. One was splotched with caramel and brown while the other was much darker with a splash of white on its belly. Both had eyes the color and shape of black licorice jelly beans. When I later Googled to learn if guinea pigs had tails (I hadn’t spotted one but wasn’t sure), the corresponding Wikipedia page told me that they have “no tail of any consequence,” which seems rude.
Some other guinea pig facts I learned:
Guinea pigs are neither from Guinea nor related to pigs.
They are good swimmers.
When excited, they explode into a hop, which is called “popcorning.”
They were once thought to have supernatural healing powers and were rubbed against the bodies of sick people.
What are their names? I asked.
Pip! said the boy, and Squeak!
The boy’s mom told me when they first rescued the pair, they had wanted two girls but because of a mistake by the guinea-pig-powers-that-be they wound up with a boy, who then had to be neutered.
Guess how much that cost? Three hundred dollars! said the mom. But it was worth it, she continued. They’ve bonded. They’re inseparable. She couldn’t imagine them apart.
To demonstrate, she scooped them up and placed them on the concrete, side by side. When she let go, Squeak led and Pip followed. They beelined back toward the matted grass, back toward their shared happy place. They rubbed their bellies against the dirt and pressed their sides against each other. Like their names, they were fine alone but better together.