|A pinch of Pinni|
Admittedly, we were both laughing at this point. Guinea pigs can be such over-the-top drama queens. But I did feel bad for my poor little Pinni. I reached in to comfort her and was hit with another tale of woe before my fingers even touched her. I spent the next half minute or so scritching her nose, telling her things were okay and we loved her; she sat there and cried uncontrollably. I haven't heard a sob story like that since the spring pignic when a sow gave Pinni more attention than she could handle. What a big baby.
I suppose I can understand why she was so put out: How could that nice guy who normally gives me such good things to eat have the audacity poke me? For no reason! Why would he do such a thing? I was minding my own business. I wasn't even begging. And he poked me! How could such a thing happen?!
I don't know, Pinn. We find you irresistible, just like anyone else who's met you. You're just too dang squeezable for your own good.
Once she stopped wailing, we gave her (and the others, of course!) a bit of tomato. And all was forgiven. At least until the next squeezing. Oof!