Originally written in 2023
I’ve always maintained that my ideal number is five guinea pigs in the herd.
My reasoning is perfectly sensible: if one passes away, there are still enough piggies left that nobody ends up alone.
For months, I’d been planning to add two more to my three. A lady from our hiking group had some baby guinea pigs and told me she would let me know once she was certain which ones were female.
Then Lei Lei passed away.
Suddenly, getting new piggies became more urgent. Fudge was already 9 years and 2 months old, and I didn’t want Athos, who was only 3½, to eventually be left on his own.
Fortunately, Pastel and Chestnut were available for rehoming that same day, so I took them.
Problem solved.
Five guinea pigs eventually. Perfect. 
Then the lady from the hiking group messaged me and asked if I was still interested in the two babies.
Of course I was.
I thought, Well, technically it’s only one extra guinea pig for the time being. Once Fudge eventually passes, I’ll have my ideal five.
Still perfectly sensible. 
Except this morning, the former owner of Pastel and Chestnut contacted me. Her remaining guinea pig had become very depressed since the other two left. She wasn’t moving much and had stopped eating.
She asked if I could take her too.
Obviously, I am not going to let a guinea pig sit there lonely and depressed.
So naturally I said yes.
There is now only one small problem:
How am I going to tell Graeme that another guinea pig is being dropped off tonight? 
Stories Along the Way 