The search is on...

“Mommy, I can’t find Violet.”

For just a split second this morning, I thought Libby was talking about a crayon.

“Well, then, honey… just use a purple.”

But, no… not a crayon. My four year old was very matter-of-factly telling me that she could not find our black guinea pig. You read that correctly… a guinea pig.

“What?! She’s not in the cage?” I rushed over to the guinea pig cage, where just one guinea pig stood at the bars, begging for a treat. And it wasn’t Violet.

Yes, we have two guinea pigs in our house…ones that we got as a result of the Christmas cheer that I was feeling right around the time. ‘Wouldn’t it be great for the kids to get a pet for Christmas?!!’ Now that the holidays have long since passed, I’m wondering if I’d indulged in maybe a bit too much of that ‘special eggnog’ for my own good.

Actually, the kids love Daisy and Violet very much. They take good care of them, and take charge of making sure they have fresh veggies and clean water every day. They clean the cage by themselves every Saturday morning (Phil or I just have to supervise), and they want to hold those squeaky little critters every day.

I assumed that Violet was just hiding in her cardboard tunnel in the cage, as she is definitely the more skittish of the two. But a little nudge of the tunnel, and then a shake, and finally, picking it up and peering down into it revealed… you guessed it… no Violet.

Me (trying to be calm): Libby, honey, where is Violet?

Libby: I don’t know! I had her…

Josie (beginning to freak out): “HOW could you lose a guinea pig, Libby?! WHERE IS SHE?!!”

Me: Josie, that’s not helping. Libs, honey, were you holding her? Where did you put her?

Libby: I was holding her, and I just set her down.

Me: You just…um… set her down?

At this point, Libby starts to cry… Josie is yelling… Davis runs downstairs to investigate the trouble (I think he’s always surprised when he doesn’t actually have a hand in starting the trouble), and I …well, I try to think like a guinea pig (which is surprisingly hard to do when you haven't yet had your morning caffeine).

Okay, piece of good news #1: Guinea pigs can’t climb stairs, so she has to be downstairs somewhere.

Piece of good news #2: Besides under the couches, there are not too many hiding places under which our little friend can scurry.

Piece of good news #3: Oh wait…never mind. There is no more good news because she is nowhere to be found under the couches.

Josie had an idea that we should let Daisy out of the cage, and she would lead us to Violet. Because really, what could be more fun than one loose guinea pig? Why, two, of course! (I quickly vetoed that idea.)

We flipped over pillows and the kids’ bean bags, we opened closet doors, we crawled on our hands and knees, chirping (bet you didn’t know we could speak ‘guinea pig’, did you?)… and still, no Violet.

And finally when I noticed that one of the couch cushions was scooched out a little too far, I discovered under a cushion, in the back of the couch… $1. 37 in change.





Aaand one little black guinea pig. She was all hunkered down, like she was scared to death. Which she probably was. All the yelling, and cushion tossing… not to mention that I lifted up the very end of the couch she was hiding in for the kids to check under.

I guess Libby had just ‘set her down’ on the couch. You know… the navy blue couch which can, I discovered, camouflage a black guinea pig quite nicely.

I’m so relieved that we found her (especially before she left us a few little 'presents' under the couch cushions)… I’m hoping that Libby has learned her lesson about just taking the guinea pigs out of their cage (being grounded from holding them for about a week should do the trick)...

And I’m thankful that I didn’t just plop down on the couch in frustration during the search. ;)