Dapples: My First Cavy

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Post   » Mon Oct 20, 2003 8:10 pm

Since I was twelve I had always babysat a young girl named Thea with a pair of Abby boars who resides in a gigantic wooden cage her father had contructed of beautiful mahogony. Every night when the girls were alseep, I and the boys wuld run about the kicthen and living room, playing "hide the treat" and the like, or just watching TV until the parents returned. It took time and begging, but soon my mother gave in to the please for an Abby cavy all my own.

In all honesty, I can't to this day remember where we bought her, but I know we traveled some to get her. She was very small then, all white with black dalmation spots covering her popcorning body. I loved her at first sight, yet my mother was shocked to hear that Dapples had been shunned by everyone that came to find a cavy due to a "temper" that she had. What that ment we had no idea, but I'd soon learn.

Dapples was taken home, given a large cage and floor time as well as backyard time on her harness and lead with supervision. She would take "walks" in the woods and get a flea combing afterwards along with wiping down her ears and frequent vet checkups just to be sure of her health. I loved her dearly, and my cats and dog saw her as a companion in the house. Even Dali, our very large Gray Tabby respected the pig in terms that he ignored her and continued to hunt outside [ a habit we could not break even when it included the neighbor's large cats and even larger canines ].

This all introduces my short but very silly story..

You Be Kidding Me: Dapples vs "The Hunter" Dali

Dapples' playtime was never interupted. If a hurricane threatened to take our house, Dapples would have not wanted to hear it as long as she got to run about to her heart's desire. She was to be undisturbed by humans and animals alike or she would make the greatest ruckus of [here's where my shock was] wheeking instead of rumbling. She would plant her feet firmly before that which tried to disturb her romps and throw her head back with full force, wheeking so loud that people upstairs could hear her.

If this did not work, Dapples would charge, butting her head against the object and nibbling [ not biting ] as she wheeked until the disturbance left. My cats, safe to say, ran from the shrill cried and the oncoming fluffball when they tried to invade her space, and our loving mutt Leah would simply lay on the edge of the TV room [her play space] with eyes wide and nose between her paws, whimpering as she wished to play with her friend [ Leah and Dapples tended to hold "whimper and wheek" coversations when Dapples was in her cage ].

One day however, Dali came in early and instead of going to his beloved couch upstairs, he made his way down the carpeted stairs and right towards the other couch which was in the middle of Dapples' territory. It didn't take Dapples but a moment to look away from me cleaning her cage to the intruder, and she rushed over at full speed with a squealing rage.

Mind you, this was Dapple's and Dali's first meet in her territory, and quite obviously Dali was unaware that she was so territorial. The large cat stopped in a slow, cool motion in his tracks and stared at her with green eyes that simply said..

"Oh please, you must be joking. And what exactly are you making that racket at?"

Dapples' charge was halted before a pair of thin but muscular front legs that stood like towers over her little poof of a self, and realizing that this was not like the other cat chases, she raised her head high, stomped both of her little front feet, and gave the longest and loudest wheek I had heard from her to date.

Dali, probably laughing on the inside, sat his rump down so fast that I wondered if Dapples' had just taught him to sit. Their eyes met, stare quite intent. She grunted and rumbled, wheaking softly in some odd confustion, maybe a gentle warning to move. Hey, maybe finally a stubborn and large ditsraction actually caused some worry to the small cavy. She wheeked again, almost as loud as the last time... and Dahli, warmed by the sun through the window, yawned and started to clean his paw.

What went through her mind I don't know, but Dapples quickly backed up, turned, trotted a foot away, and then turned a 180 and tore at Dahli again, wheeking shrilly. She then began to run circles around the great hunter, wheeking and bucking her head. This continued for a good 5 minutes, and then Dali rose slowly.

Dapples halted before Dali again, rumbling something feirce, telling him off for coming into her territory and disturbing her so, for how dare he, being a big rude and unwanted cat, disurb her playtime? He should have been ashamed..

.. and then he stepped right over this would be threatening fluffball, and headed for the couch.

It's about then that I too sat down with my big love [ Dali ] and gave him a good scritching behind the ears for being so patient. And while we watched some Watership Down, Dapples still continued to run back and forth infront of the two of us, wheeking up a storm, only stopping for long enough to nibble and tug on my pant leg.

After that they two could not be in a room together without some rumbling or wheeking, but Dali never attempted anything, and it was some of the most entertaining drama I have ever seen in my life.

So here's to Dapples, who was given to a girl in dire need of a cage mate for her female Abby, and left me 5 years ago due to it.

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Post   » Mon Oct 20, 2003 9:52 pm

What a fun story. Sounds like a guinea pig with personality.

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