PeeWee and Plush (6 page)

I looked at her with amazement. “Plush, you're brilliant!” I exclaimed. She was absolutely right. This area could serve as our barn. It was a plan that could help us survive even the worst weather ahead.

The zoo signs said that the rain-forest
occupants came from many places like West Africa, New Guinea, Southeast Asia, and South America. And since once upon a time, all guinea pigs lived in South America, I realized that we'd feel right at home in here. Perhaps the red-crested cardinals and the bay-headed tanagers flying above us, who came from South America, could tell us something about the land of our ancestors.

I think Plush was ready to move into the rain forest right then and there. But it was still summer outside, and so I urged her to follow me to the exit. “Lexi may be looking for us,” I reminded her.

Outside, the bright sunlight blinded us briefly. We regained our normal vision just a moment too late for, suddenly, a small
hand snatched Plush right off the ground.

“Mommy, Mommy, look what I found,” a child's voice called out.

I didn't know what to do. And before I could think of something, Lexi landed at my feet with a thud. Then he took another leap and jumped onto the shoes of the child who was holding Plush. Startled, the child
dropped my companion and ran to her mother.

“Quickly, hide!” I called to Plush. She ran with me into a bush.

“A squirrel jumped on me,” we heard the child whining to her mother.

“Don't be silly, sweetie,” said the mother. “Squirrels are busy looking for nuts. Come, let's buy some ice cream.”

The mother took the child's hand and using her other hand pushed a carriage with a smaller child inside.

“Are you all right?” I asked Plush anxiously.

“Yes, yes,” she said. “I was held by many children in the pet shop. But none of them ever dropped me before,” she said, licking her sore feet.

Lexi crawled into the bush beside us. “Good timing?” he asked proudly.

“Good timing,” I agreed. I hated to think what could have happened if Lexi had not arrived at the very moment that he did.

“Wait here,” he told us. “I had my eye on a great treat before I was interrupted by that child.”

Plush and I were not in a hurry to leave our safe spot, and so we waited. Two minutes later, Lexi returned dragging a paper bag still half filled with popcorn.

“This will keep us busy,” he said.

“You're a great friend, Lexi,” I responded gratefully.

Lexi didn't say anything. He couldn't. His mouth was filled with popcorn.

And so our days passed. Most were calm, filled with birdsong and succulent meals. Occasionally there was a moment of panic, like when the child grabbed Plush or when I almost had my leg severed by a toddler on a tricycle who made an unexpected detour through the grass. But the longer we lived in the park, the more clever Plush and I were
about keeping our whereabouts hidden from the humans.

We attended
La Traviata
, which appealed to me no more than the first opera. Once again the singers insisted on singing in Italian even though I'm certain most of the audience didn't know a word of that language. But it was worth sitting through the entire opera just to make Plush so happy. And of course there was another sumptuous feast after the event was over.

There were no more operas after that, but signs announced two concerts.

“Music by Beethoven, Mozart, and Schubert. Do you like that?” I said to Plush, reading from a sign. So many unusual names, I thought.

“I enjoy all classical music,” she told me.

There were also a couple of performances of Shakespearean plays. I must confess that most of the plays went over my head. But as Lexi was quick to point out, when the plays were over, much went into my head—by way of my mouth. All of these special events in the park meant rich meals for the animal residents.

Plush began to talk more about our future family. Guinea pigs are not much for dancing, but I always danced for joy when she discussed our unborn children.

Lexi was less impressed. “Male squirrels don't get so excited about their offspring,” he told me.

“In some species of animals, the fathers
are separated from the babies because they might cause them harm,” Plush told me. “I learned about that at the pet shop when they put the male gerbils and male rabbits in separate cages from their offspring.”

“I would never hurt our children,” I promised Plush.

“I know,” she said confidently.

I glowed. It was hard to believe there was a time when she didn't trust me.

August is a wonderful month in the park. There was the lush growth of leaves everywhere providing us with an endless meal. And there were wild raspberries and delicious roots to eat as well. On some days it rained, but that was all right. We had the choice of reading in our cozy hole or playing outside even if it meant getting wet.
The rain was warm, and it cleaned the dust and dirt from our hair. Afterward, back in the hole, we groomed each other.

During those hot days of August, more people than ever used the park. Plush and I had to be more cautious than ever as we moved outside in the grass. And Lexi kept very busy digging hole after hole and burying choice tidbits for the winter. He also stuffed his nest in the tree with additional bits of food and started bringing leaves to line it more completely.

September was a lovely month too. The
evenings were cooler, but not unpleasant. Nuts were ripe and plentiful. Leaves began to change from green to glorious shades of red and yellow. The park was more beautiful than ever.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Lexi warned us as Plush and I were jumping in and out of a small pile of fallen leaves. “First the leaves fall. Then the snow falls. Winter is coming.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I said.

“I'm glad you have a plan for the winter,” Lexi told Plush and me. “It won't be long now. I can feel it in the air.”

I had described the inside of the rain forest to him and said how easy it would be for us to hide there. “You can come too,” I had invited him. After I made the offer, I had second thoughts. Plush and I knew how
to curl up small and remain quiet for long periods of time. Lexi was all dash and dart, jump and jive. It wouldn't take long for him to be discovered in the rain forest. And if the zookeepers found him, they might start looking for other visitors like Plush and me.

“Thanks for the invitation. But I don't want to leave my tree hole,” Lexi said. “Still, I'm relieved to know you have a plan,” he added.

“It was Plush's idea,” I admitted. “She's very clever.”

Plush was indeed clever. And now she was also growing very big. Our babies were due before long.

Lexi was with us one afternoon when Plush suddenly gave a little gasp. “I felt them,” she said.

“What did you feel?” both Lexi and I asked her.

“Our babies,” said Plush. “They're beginning to move inside of me. It won't be long before they are born.”

“Hurray!” I shouted. Soon I would become a father. My wish would come true.

Our offspring, or puppies as guinea pig babies are called, were born just after dawn following the harvest moon. Plush had known the time was near. She woke me and the two of us lay waiting. I had dreamt of this moment for so long, but now that it was here, I was very nervous.

Suddenly, Plush let out a soft groan because she felt a cramp. The cramps hurt,
but we knew they wouldn't last long. Still, I wished that there was some way that I could help her. But without any assistance from me, within a short time our first son was born. He was a solid-looking fellow with the same coloring as his mother.

“Pudge,” I shouted out. “He's a pudgy little boy and Pudge is a perfect name for him.”

“I'll name the next one,” said Plush, and a moment later there he was. “Perky!” she said, looking at our second son whose coloring was dark brown, just like mine.

“Do you think there will be another?” I asked Plush eagerly. I knew that a litter of guinea pigs could be as many as three or four or five. I was hoping for more.

Then, even as I spoke, another guinea pig emerged. “What a little pip-squeak she is,” I exclaimed as I looked at our first daughter, who was smaller than her siblings. “Let's call her Pip.”

Instantly a fourth head appeared. “It's Squeak!” I laughed. This fourth guinea pig pup was identical to Pip. We lay with the four damp infants cuddled around Plush as she proudly licked their fur.

Our first visitor was Lexi, of course.

“Look!” I shouted to him with delight and pride. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful than these little babies?”

“
There is nothing more beautiful than a little nut, but . . . a big nut
.”

“Shame on you,” I said. “Can you only think of your stomach? Let me introduce you to Pudge, Perky, Pip, and Squeak.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,” said Lexi, looking ashamed of himself. “It just popped out of my mouth. It was one of my mother's sayings,” he added, although I had already guessed as much.