Guinea Pig Funeral

Hattie had to write a composition for an assessment by tutors for home school which she and I anticipate beginning mid year when we relocate to a very isolated part of Tanzania.

She opted to write about pets. Which reminded me how many we’ve had over the years: hamsters, cats (which ate the hamsters when, presumably, the hypnotic meals on wheels grew unbearable), guinea pigs, one of which was eaten by neighbour’s dog during a lunch I was aspiring to host for company guest. Amelia was distraught and insisted on wrapping dead guinea pig in a shroud of mosquito net and presenting it to me on verandah where I sat with collection of horrified guests. As I took shroud from her, GP fell to floor with leaden thud, I tried to stifle nervous giggles and Amelia was convulsed by yet another paroxysm of noisy grief. I persuaded her to bury it, which she did. But later – by which time we were on coffee – she decided to exhume the grave having unearthed a wine box to masquerade as a coffin. And then, dressed head to toe in black, with her brother and sister as part of funeral cortege, she led a solemn march around the garden to a new grave site, all in view of utterly stupefied guests, bearing wine box/coffin complete with stiff, cold, muddy rodent. By then sense of humour and patience was wearing thin. I banned guinea pigs after that.

We are down to a relatively safe two dogs and two cats.

Antics in advance of Anthony’s adjourned court case on Monday continue; more and more evidence comes to light that would suggest he’s the Fall Guy for the big boys. Another employee, who is still in the employment of the company and who assisted with his bail last weekend, has been asked to resign as a result.

One Response to “Guinea Pig Funeral”

  1. guinea pig Says:

    Haha, what a great story, very funny!

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