Training a guinea pig
That fucking guinea pig is driving me to drink.
Actually, that’s not true. I wish it were. It would be handy to have someone or something to drive me home again from the pub when I have had a skin full.
I will rephrase it. That fucking guinea pig is driving me demented.
For some unknown reason Minnie has decided that her sole reason for existence is to eat her way through the bars of her cage. The noise of the twanging is very very fucking irritating.
So far, I have tried the following:
Electrifying the bars: This was the least successful as Minnie seemed to like the sparks. I had to unplug from the mains when I ran out of fuses.
Smearing Marmite on the bars: This worked for a while, but the little sod soon worked out that if she rubbed her paws on the bars, that the Marmite would wear off. The Marmite stuck to her paws, and the straw and sawdust stuck to the Marmite, so the little fucker now has massive straw/sawdust boots on and I have run out of Marmite.
Removing the cage altogether: This seems like a logical move, but pea-brain Minnie just lunges at the now non-existent bars and goes flying out of her box. Seeing as it is perched on a high table, this means a long drop before there is a satisfying ‘splodge’ sound, whereupon Minnie disappears under the couch and spends the next hour or so squeaking, pissing and pooing and refusing to come out. The house is beginning to smell.
Training: This was the most satisfying of the treatments, from my point of view. I would stand beside the cage, and whenever the chewing started, I would thwack her on the nose with a newspaper. She would retreat for about five seconds, obviously wondering what the fuck had happened before launching herself at the bars again. The only learning that resulted was that I learned that guinea pigs cannot be trained. They are fucking stupid.
I am running out of ideas.
I have led a long and interesting life, and I want that life to end in a suitable manner. I do not want my gravestone marked with the words “Here lies Grandad who died of a heart attack induced by a guinea pig”. Somehow it isn’t befitting someone of my stature.
I don’t know what the normal lifespan of a guinea pig is.
But at this rate, it’s about five seconds.
I had this problem with some mice.
In the end, I got them a fishtank. Initially, this was problematic, since mice can’t breathe water. But once emptied, it did exactely what I wanted it to.
No more climbing the bars, and no more chewing.
Get one of those big, oversized goldfish bowls. Until they manage to master the skill of walking up nearly upside-down glass you should be safe.
That is an amazingly simple idea! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I don’t have a goldfish bowl or tank, but there is a large tank up on the roof I could use? It will have to stay full of water though, otherwise I can’t flush the jax. Maybe if I tied a tennis ball to Minnie she might float a bit better?
put two swinging straps in the cage. loop one under her front legs, and the other under the back legs whenever she’s in there. the straps should be short enough that her paws are not touching the ground.
another solution is a tiny ball and chain kit. purchasable in all reputable guinea-pig fetish shops.
Kae – Do you know of any guinea pig fetish shops? Please forward addresses. [*weirdo*]
Here’s an idea. Get rid of ’em.
TT – Christmas dinner?
I have two guinea pigs. I also have a German Shepherd that likes to jump on their cage if they so much as move a muscle. Result – they don’t so much as twitch if they see her approaching – no annoying ‘twangy’ sounds, no squeaking, just two motionless, wide-eyed piggies.
One good turn deserves another so I can lend the German Shepherd to you at a very reasonable cost…..I’m nice like that. 🙂
Arhonda – And a lovely looking German Shepherd she is. We have a problem. Our Sandy has adopted both guinea pigs and lovingly protects them both. An addition of another dog would more than likely case more damage than any Shannon floods. Thanks for the offer though.
Yeah I find myself lunging at bars all the time – usually while slurring stuff like “pour me a double next time ya tight bastard!”. If Minnie likes bars well for fucks sake tell her I’ll meet at the nearest one next time she’s thirsty – she can throw herself over anything she wants – preferably after we’ve both had a few. If you don’t like it, threaten her with the 12 steps. That should sober her up.
Sighs – I have enough trouble with the fucking animal without her rolling home in the small hours of the morning, roaring drunk. It’s bad enough having to put up with Herself. The 12 steps? Heh! Might work……
Get it a tiny elephant suit so you can laugh your arse off at a tiny elephant running around the place.