Today, I had to take my guinea pig to the vet. My guinea pig is this furry furry ball of total cuteness. It has large inquisitive eyes that peer at you in a perpetual state of wonder. It also has long glossy fur that I can style into a Mohawk. My guinea pig is not like a hamster. It does not run away even if I open the cage door, and it does not bite. If you scratch its ears, it will half-close its eyes in a pure show of bliss. In short, awwsome.
Well, the problem was that recently, beneath the veneer of the fur coat, it was losing weight. I felt its tiny body, and all there was was skin and bones. It's the kind that you probably never felt before because Singapore stopped starving sometime in the last century. I assumed that it was due to dental problems. Maybe fat people can go get dental problems. Anyway, a vet seemed like the man for the job. A woman, as it turned out.
The highlight was undoubtedly the trip to the vet. Everyone, from the obese woman to the foreign talent to the old man, was staring at me, or rather the guinea pig. I thought maybe I had put bunny ears on it, but I looked, and I hadn't. And everyone was just staring, staring and staring, it felt kind of rude. That must be how a girl with big tits feels.
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