#greg and myke are guinea pigs and get adopted by lesbians

[mottlemoth]

[Fiction] ‘Mykie’

Author’s Notes: Sweet Christ, why have I done this... just... why... you know what? There are no words. 

I’m sorry, everyone. I’ll show myself out.

Mykie's first owner was a little boy called Jack.

He was a well-meaning child, excitable and full of energy, whose mother loved him very much. He was overjoyed on Christmas morning to be told to close his eyes tightly and stretch out his hands - at which point she placed into them a squirming, struggling Mykie.

At the sight of the guinea pig he'd been asking for since October, Jack screamed with sharp delight. He was thrilled - but for Mykie, it was an unhappy first meeting. Terrified at the shriek, he bolted from the little boy's inexperienced hands and by some miracle twisted in the air, landed safely with a flump on the couch beside Jack and then raced for the nearest cover.

It took them half an hour to reach him under the television stand.

He was then placed, with more care, back into a crying Jack's arms; given a piece of carrot, which the 'My First Guinea Pig' book said he would like; and the two of them made a second attempt at hello. Jack was gentle, stroking Mykie's head with a carefully trembling hand. His mother filmed it, proud. After this much more successful introduction, Mykie was then transferred back to his cage where he could calm down, and Jack opened the rest of his presents.

It was a noisy Christmas Day that followed. Lots of people came over to look at Mykie. He took shelter in the small wooden house they'd provided him, frightened and longing for quiet, but they kept pulling him back out to show him off.

It was a relief at last when darkness fell, and the lights were all switched off except for the tree, and the humans went off to bed. Mykie came out across across the prickly wood shavings to eat some of his food in the darkness. He drank from the bottle like his mother had taught him, missing her quietly. The click of the metal ball was noisy in the silence as he lapped at the water.

In the pet shop, he'd lived with all the other pigs in a big open paddock. Some of them had chased him and tugged at his ears, which was terribly mean of them - he was a quiet boy, gentle and shy. He'd been looking forward to a home; to an owner who loved him; to a cage of his very own.

He hadn't realised he'd be going alone though.

It was strange to be by himself.

For a few weeks, Jack was very fond of Mykie. He got him out to play several times a week, and dutifully answered his mother's summons to clean out Mykie's straw and change his water bottle. There was always food, and the cat was always kept away from the cage.

But as the months went by, and the little boy grew older, his interest in the small and sad little guinea pig who never seemed to do much began to wane.

It wasn't a big cage. Mykie couldn't really sprint around it much - or even run at all. At the shop, he'd loved to run with the others - except when they chased him, which was very mean of them. He'd loved to pick up a sudden burst of speed and hurtle quickly from one end of the paddock to the next, kicking up a big puff of paper bedding with his strong back legs, zooming his way between obstacles as fast as he could. Sometimes just thinking about it, or seeing the others do it, made him hop into the air with excitement.

But in this cage, he couldn't do that.

He liked to gnaw on his toys - until they were all gnawed. He liked to eat too, but it wasn't often he got given carrot or courgette any more. Sometimes he got peelings, if they remembered him tucked away in his corner of the lounge - but then sometimes they forgot to take away the ones he didn't eat, and the scraps would start to smell bad and settle somewhere under his straw.

Of everything though, it was the loneliness that made Mykie saddest.

He missed the sight of another guinea pig. He missed having one of his own kind to talk to, to squeak at, to sit next to and tussle for food with. The humans were kind to him, even if they were forgetful sometimes - and they were certainly never cruel.

But he so missed hearing someone else's squeak.

As Mykie got bigger and bigger, his cage grew smaller and smaller around him. Jack got involved in the football club at school, and he saw Mykie less and less. His mother took over cleaning Mykie out - it annoyed her, yet another chore on her long list, and some mornings they forgot to fill up Mykie's food dish. They were always very upset when they realised, and filled it straight up. But it didn't mean Mykie hadn't been hungry all day.

Mykie slept a lot inside his wooden house, and remembered the pet shop. He remembered his littermates and the feeling of soft paper bedding under his paws. He remembered what it was like to run as fast as he could around a nice big cage, and how everyone had squeaked and shouted and popped into the air whenever the pet shop girl with the big dish of lettuce had appeared. He missed what it was like to nestle at the bowl with them all.

He even missed being chased.

One day when Jack was seven, his mother was vacuuming the lounge when she realised that no-one had topped up Mykie's food for well over a day. Mykie, now sad and asleep inside his wooden house, had been digging through the shavings to find old scraps. His paws were sore; his nose was full of dust.

After a tearful talk with Jack after school, a decision was made.

The advert went up online the next day, with a photograph of Mykie - his thin red fur, his sad expression, his little wire cage with its gnawed plastic toys.

Then, a couple of days later, Mykie's Humans arrived.

There were two of them - two young women. One had purple hair and a pretty dress printed with cupcakes; the other had a leather jacket, car keys and a helplessly big laugh. They chatted nicely to Jack's mother in the lounge by the cage as the Human with Purple Hair held him gently in her arms. She talked to Mykie softly about all sorts, tickling behind his eyes, calling him a pretty piggie, and her girlfriend discreetly examined his little paws - his sore footpads - his long, curly nails.

Mykie's new humans met eyes without a word.

Their gazes skipped politely over the plastic toys, the small cage, the rabbit muesli he'd been given, the prickly pine shavings he'd slept on for a year.

They told Jack's mother they had their own cage at home, so they wouldn't need his - and they were fine for bedding, and food, and hay. She was kind to offer, they said. They'd even brought a box - a special one with a hinged lid and a carry handle, gently lined with a pink fleece blanket.

Mykie was lifted from his cage, placed with care inside the box, and the lid was closed.

He didn't like the car ride very much. It wasn't nice to be bumped about - but as they drove off, the Human with Purple Hair wheedled a sprig of parsley through the door of his travelling box.

Mykie leapt upon it with delight.

"Poor little thing," the Human with Purple Hair said, as he ate it in a happy frenzy. "He's underweight… and those claws..."

"We'll give him his twenty-four hours to settle," Leather Jacket replied, waiting for the lights to change. "Then we'll get him clipped… maybe take him to the vet after work one night? I just want someone to check those feet. I'm sure it's fine, but…"

"Pine shavings," said Purple Hair, with a sigh.

"Mm," said Leather Jacket.

There was a pause.

"Kid was just too young," said Leather Jacket. "Lost interest. It happens."

"I'm glad we saw the advert." Purple Hair bit her lower lip, gazing at Mykie through the travelling box lid. "I hope he gets on with Greggie..."

"Of course he will," said Leather Jacket. "Greg'll love him to bits. They'll be cuddled up together before we know it. Three weeks' quarantine, and they'll be tugging on each other's ears like tiny BFFs."

Mykie didn't hear any of this. He was very busy eating.

He'd never tasted parsley before.

He liked it very much.

As the travelling box was put down, and the lid slowly removed, Mykie found himself in a strange new place - a large open paddock with lots of space to run, full of fresh white paper bedding and scattered with all sorts of interesting things. There were little houses and pods to hide in, and log bridges to run under, wooden toys with bark to nibble at, cardboard tunnels with vegetable-dyed paper, and soft fleecy hammocks in colourful green prints. As he emerged nervously onto the fluffy paper, Mykie spotted a vast pile of hay in one corner. He eagerly hurried inside it.

The hay was green and soft and fragrant. He could snuggle himself right down inside the pile where nobody could see him. At once, he felt safe. Happily, he started to eat.

"There we go," said Leather Jacket, with a laugh. "All sorted."

"He's so cute… his beautiful fur. I can't believe he even matches the hammocks."

"Your magnificent eye for colour. Tea?"

"Oh… God. Yes please."

For a full twenty-four hours, nobody disturbed Mykie. Nobody moved him, or touched him, or reached into his paddock. When the Humans went to work the next day, they left Radio Four on quietly beside his cage so he could get used to the sound of voices. That night, they gave him a big chunk of carrot and a small piece of yellow pepper to try - and another sprig of parsley.

For three quiet weeks, Mykie settled into his brand new home.

He had a check-up at the vet, who clipped his nails for him and reassured his Humans that he was in good health. The soreness in his paws would go, and he was gaining weight very nicely. They'd have to make sure he didn't eat too many of his guinea pig biscuits, of which he was very fond - that made Leather Jacket laugh. It was her fault, she said. She liked seeing him rush out to hoover them up.

The days drew on, and Mykie grew more and more used to having his Humans around. They never passed his paddock without coming over to say hello, giving him a gentle wiggle of their finger or offering him a piece of hay. They laughed each night as he ran laps of his cage, puffing white paper up behind him each time he set off at a sprint. He enjoyed coming over to the side to have a look at them - to stand with his paws up on the bars, and see what it was they had for him. When they picked him up, it was with one hand carefully around the middle and the other under his bum to support him, and they let him out of his paddock at least once a day.

In the evening, Leather Jacket liked to lie on the sofa with him settled on her chest, watching TV together.

In the middle of the third week, Mykie fell asleep on her like that - flopped down, stuck a foot out and napped, lulled to sleep by the slow rise and fall of her breath.

Purple Hair took a huge number of photos on her phone, as Leather Jacket grinned and tried not to disturb him by laughing.

"D'you think he's ready for his cheeky cage mate?" Leather Jacket asked, her voice a soft rumble.

"This weekend?" said Purple Hair. Her eyes brightened.

"Sure. Saturday evening? We'll let them loose in the hall… see if it's love at first sight."

"I really hope so. Poor Gregs has been so lonely… I know you can't skip the quarantine stage, but…"

"Better safe than sorry," said Leather Jacket. "Let's just hope Gregster doesn't chase him too much."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Purple Hair. "We'll make them a really nice salad. Dinner's  always a lovely first date."

Leather Jacket grinned. "I'll get tiny tuxedos hired, shall I?" she said. "Taxis booked?"

"Oh my God, don't. You know I always want to dress them up for a Christmas card... little antlers and a sleigh..."

Leather Jacket bit down on her laugh, trying not to wake Mykie.

"Yeah?" she said. "My mother'd love that. From both of us and the grandpigs. Imagine her face."

"Don't tempt me," said Purple Hair, kissed her Human on the forehead, and went off to the other room to see if Greg had finished his cucumber.

That weekend, at six PM on Saturday, Mykie found himself being lifted gently from his paddock.

He wriggled a little in Purple Hair's hands. He hadn't had his customary salad yet, even though he could smell them cooking their Human Dinner. It wasn't like the Humans to be late with his salad. He hoped they had a good explanation.

Purple Hair cuddled him to her chest for a few moments, rumpled his ears, and told him he was a wonderful piggie, which he always loved to hear - and she told him to be very, very nice to Greggles. Mykie wondered what on earth a Greggles was. She then carried him through to the hall, where he'd been out to play a few times now.

Gently she placed him on the fleece blankets now spread across the laminate floor. Mykie looked around, sniffing, wondering what was going on. There were toys and hidey shelters everywhere, and he could smell something terribly interesting - something that seemed almost familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

He realised, as he ambled over to have a nibble on the nearest wooden house, that it was The Smell of Another Piggy.

He'd almost forgotten it.

This wasn't someone he knew - it was a stranger. He sniffed the house eagerly and checked inside it, but there was no other piggy there. He looked all around the house and the other pods, catching inside some of them that tantalising smell again. There was no sign of the stranger though. Mykie trotted about the hall, impatient, investigating this toy and that toy, as Leather Jacket sat at the bottom of the stairs with a smile and kept a watchful eye on him.

Then the hall door opened, and Purple Hair crept inside. She had her arms wrapped carefully around something.

"Mykie?" she called him, softly - and Mykie, being a very clever pig, looked up at the sound of his name. He hurried over, his ears flapping a little as he ran. "Hey, little guy… come and see who I have…"

She knelt down, gently, and lowered her arms.

And onto the fleece blankets, she placed the most wonderful sight that Mykie had ever seen.

He was grey and bright-eyed and scruffy - a little bigger than Mykie, and his fur was thick and teddyish. As soon as Mykie came to sniff him, he started sniffing Mykie back. He was soft and his breath was puffy and gentle, and he wound his way around Mykie, sniffing every inch of him in delight. Mykie worried for a moment that the new pig might be about to chase him. He puffed up a little and churred, hoping this settled the matter.

The stranger didn't seem to mind. He began to cluck softly to Mykie, snuffling at his mouth.

Mykie slowly lifted his nose up into the air, bewildered as the stranger proceeded to dot him with enthusiastic piggie kisses.

"Are they getting on okay?" Purple Hair asked, as she appeared from the kitchen carrying a plate piled high with salad.

"Well, we're already onto first base..."

"Oh God! They're so cute... Greggie... Greggie, sweetheart, kiss Mykie gently… he's still very shy. Here, pretties."

Purple Hair placed down the salad plate.

They descended eagerly on the pile. The stranger seized a piece of cucumber, which seemed to be his favourite. Mykie grabbed some parsley and ate it as quickly as he could fit it into his mouth. A happy silence fell - munching, crunching and nibbling - and as they worked their way through the mountain of salad, Mykie noticed the stranger sneaking closer and closer to him with each new piece. By the time they found the grapes hidden at the centre, the stranger was snuggled comfortably into his side. Mykie found himself so startled by the stranger's friendly presence that he didn't mind at all. Greg didn't steal his food or take things off him - just ate beside him, happily, bubbling a little as he squished his way through half a grape. His whiskers quivered as he chewed. He smelled nice, Mykie thought. He looked like he would be terribly fun to run around after.

Their Humans sat at the bottom of the stairs, side-by-side, and watched in overjoyed silence.

"Success, d'you think?" said Leather Jacket, softly.

Purple Hair leant against her shoulder. "Give it a couple of hours… they might start kicking the shit out of each other yet."

"Yeah, just to be safe..." Leather Jacket smiled, nuzzling gently at her temple. "Think we're onto a winner here, though. Don't you? Might even be sharing a cage by bedtime."

Purple Hair sighed. "God, they're cuddling already… boys, too. They even look adorable together. Mykie's so sleek, and Greggie's so scruffy... I love it."

"Reckon Mykie'll give us trouble when you put the reindeer antlers on him for the Christmas photo?"

"Stop it - seriously, don't, or I'll do it."

"He'll end up with a whole little wardrobe," Leather Jacket murmured. "Different outfits. Hats. Bunny ears for Easter."

"Which part of 'stop it'...?"

Leather Jacket grinned, and kissed Purple Hair on the forehead. "If it makes you happy."

Purple Hair blushed a little, cuddling into her side.

"I'll get on Etsy for a tiny sleigh," she said. "Your mother's going to love it."