Free Guinea Pigs Online by Jennifer Gray Page A

wasn’t looking.
    Fuzzy soon decided there was only one thing to do.
    He needed some better ingredients.
    One afternoon, Coco found him puffing and heaving his way across the wooden floor toward the kitchen counters.
    “Give me a hand, Coco,” he panted.
    “What are you doing?” Coco asked.
    “I’m taking the jump to the kitchen.”
    As you probably know, most guinea pigs can’t climb (with notable exceptions, as you will discover later). What you may
not
know is that “the jump” is a clever device all pet guinea pigs use to get up onto things like tables and computer desks when humans aren’t around. It’s a bit like a miniature see-saw with something flat (like a ruler) balanced over something triangular (like a doorstop). It also needs two guinea pigs to operate it, which is why they prefer to live in pairs.
    “Bring the squashy cushion,” Fuzzyordered. (The squashy cushion was, of course, for the guinea pigs to land on when they jump down.)
    “Bring the squashy cushion,
please
,” Coco said huffily.
    Luckily the kitchen was only a short distance from the hutch and eventually, with a bit of arguing, they got everything into position.
    “Ladies first,” Coco said, standing daintily on one end of the ruler.
    Fuzzy puffed out his cheeks. “All right,” he grumbled. He ran forward and crashed down on to the other end of the ruler.
    “Wheeee!” Coco shot up into the air and landed on the marble counter.
    “Throw something heavy down,” Fuzzy shouted. “But be careful of me.” He held his paws over his head—Coco had terrible aim.
    “Like this?” A red-and-white bag hurtled through the air and went splat.
    Fuzzy just had time to see the squashy cushion covered in an avalanche of fine white powder as he accelerated upward before he landed next to Coco.
    “You’re cleaning that up,” he said, marching over to the blender andflicking it on and off with his foot. He had seen Scarlet Cleaver use something very similar on TV. “Now, we need to find some ingredients that Ben and Henrietta like.”
    “What about one of these?” Coco had opened an odd-shaped box and was eyeing its contents curiously.
    “They’re called eggs.” Fuzzy, who was strong for a guinea pig, heaved one out and flung it into the mixer, where it shattered into a sticky mess.
    “To-ma-to ke-tch-up,” Coco was reading the label on a big red plastic bottle. “What about that?”
    Fuzzy wasn’t sure about the ketchup bit but he thought the tomato would probably be all right. “Squeeze!” he shouted, placing his bottom on the other side of the bottle from Coco.
    They both pushed. The bottle made a rude noise as a fountain of gooey red liquid cascaded into the blender.
    “And this?” Coco suggested.
    Fuzzy lobbed in a bulb of garlic.
    “And this?”
    The garlic was followed by a lump of butter.
    “And this?”
    The last thing they added was a squirt of dishwashing liquid.
    Fuzzy zapped the button. The blender sprang to life. The mixture bubbled and crackled in a very pleasing way. When they had finished they both agreed their creation looked delicious.

    Suddenly they heard a key in the lock. They looked ateach other in horror. It must be Ben, home early from work. Fuzzy jumped down after Coco on to the squashy cushion below and they scurried back to the hutch.
    “What on earth . . . ?” Ben stared at the kitchen in dismay. He shook his head. “That’s the only problem with Henrietta,” he said, walking over to say hello to the guinea pigs, who pretended to doze on their soft bed of hay. He squatted down in front of the hutch and made a face. “Don’t tell her I said so,” he whispered, “but she’s the world’s worst cook!”

    Laughing, he returned to the kitchen, threw the contents of the blender down the garbage disposal and tidied up the mess on the floor. He didn’t stop to ask himself why there were two guinea-pig-shaped dents in the squashy cushion, and what on earth Henrietta could have wantedwith a