I'm not a huge fan of the fact that two posts after I wrote about my dead cat (and I actually refer to him as "my dead cat" in conversation because it horrifies people and I use humor to deal with grief) I'm introducing my new friend, but she's a big part of my life and will be a part of any blog that touches on my personal life.
My companion's name is Ginger, and she's a guinea pig. She's my therapy animal, and I project onto her way too much because she's a rescue and I just KNOW her feelings were marginalized! And her previous owner called her SNICKERS, which is ridiculous because she's totally a Ginger (even though I almost called her Alexa as a tribute to Alexander McQueen). She even knows her name! Or maybe she just thinks that my voice is like angels singing, or maybe she just thinks she'll get food if she responds when I talk to her. She's right about both of those things.
Anyway, she's my precious. She makes me happy, no matter what, and accompanies me to Target and gives me kisses when I need them. The special thing about rescued animals is that you wind up really wanting to make sure their circumstances are improved by being adopted by you- and I hope hers are, because she deserves it.
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