Today we had fresh hay trays - this in itself is actually quite nice (I love my hay tray), but the big slave (the one who is usually quite boring) put it in my cage, I jumped in, squeaked a couple of times and jumped straight back out.
Then I jumped in again (fresh hay trays are so exciting) and squeaked and jumped out.
At this point the big slave looked worried and picked me up.
I do not like it when the big slave touches me, so I tried to give her a sneaky nip, but it seems she is becoming wise to this and avoided my teeth.
Then she started checking my eyes and saying silly things like ‘Oh no Ruby, please tell me you don’t have a hay poke’.
Of course I didn’t have a hay poke - the big slave really has no idea.
But she kept trying to check my eyes and touching me which I did not like at all.
Eventually she put me back in my cage and I hopped back in my hay tray and did a few small, angry squeaks.
So she got me out AGAIN, and started looking at my bottom and muttering about bladder sludge.
By this point I was extremely cross so I did a rather big wee to let her know I did not have bladder sludge, and she needed to put me down immediately.
After all of this she finally got the idea (she really is not very easy to train despite my ongoing efforts) and put her hand in my hay tray to try and work out that the problem was.
She decided that I was probably squealing because I like to burrow in my hay and the hay was cold.
She mentioned something about over indulged diva pigs, but I wasn’t really listening at that point.
So the latest injustice in my life is that my fresh hay tray was made up with cold hay.
Cold hay - can you even imagine.
The big slave was full of dull excuses about something called Winter and not being able to store all the different types of hay inside the house, but I know that is just her being difficult. If we have room for a sofa then we have room for more hay (if we removed the sofa).
Clearly she just isn’t cut out to care for a sensitive and sweet natured guinea pig like me.
I have attached a photo of me in my hay tray (after it warmed up to an acceptable temperature) chewing on a mulberry branch and looking very sweet.
If only the big slave could see how blessed she really is to have me in her life.
Sadly she was too busy mopping the floor and muttering about demon diva guinea pigs.
Love Ruby xx

Then I jumped in again (fresh hay trays are so exciting) and squeaked and jumped out.
At this point the big slave looked worried and picked me up.
I do not like it when the big slave touches me, so I tried to give her a sneaky nip, but it seems she is becoming wise to this and avoided my teeth.
Then she started checking my eyes and saying silly things like ‘Oh no Ruby, please tell me you don’t have a hay poke’.
Of course I didn’t have a hay poke - the big slave really has no idea.
But she kept trying to check my eyes and touching me which I did not like at all.
Eventually she put me back in my cage and I hopped back in my hay tray and did a few small, angry squeaks.
So she got me out AGAIN, and started looking at my bottom and muttering about bladder sludge.
By this point I was extremely cross so I did a rather big wee to let her know I did not have bladder sludge, and she needed to put me down immediately.
After all of this she finally got the idea (she really is not very easy to train despite my ongoing efforts) and put her hand in my hay tray to try and work out that the problem was.
She decided that I was probably squealing because I like to burrow in my hay and the hay was cold.
She mentioned something about over indulged diva pigs, but I wasn’t really listening at that point.
So the latest injustice in my life is that my fresh hay tray was made up with cold hay.
Cold hay - can you even imagine.
The big slave was full of dull excuses about something called Winter and not being able to store all the different types of hay inside the house, but I know that is just her being difficult. If we have room for a sofa then we have room for more hay (if we removed the sofa).
Clearly she just isn’t cut out to care for a sensitive and sweet natured guinea pig like me.
I have attached a photo of me in my hay tray (after it warmed up to an acceptable temperature) chewing on a mulberry branch and looking very sweet.
If only the big slave could see how blessed she really is to have me in her life.
Sadly she was too busy mopping the floor and muttering about demon diva guinea pigs.
Love Ruby xx
