When young
I had a guinea pig that
I grew to hate fairly quickly.
He made noises in the night
and smelled
and constantly insisted on being fed
and watered
and having his bedding changed.
I didn’t make my own bed;
why would I make his?

He lived in filth
(like a pig)
and was rude to his neighbors
(like a guinea)
and I found
soon
that I could not bear to share a room with him.
I hated that guinea pig
that I used to own
so very much
for so very long.

Finally
I gave it away
to people who could better care for him
or could care for him at all.
He seemed to do much better
in an environment where he was encouraged.

I’m pretty certain it’s dead now.