This is Lemon. She believes she is top #guineapig in our little herd of three. Don’t let that vacant stare fool you; behind those beady eyes lies a mind that is…well, even more vacant. She loves developing the cowlick on the top of her head by shoving things, and is the pig most often seen relaxing outside a hide (the better to spot humans who might be carrying treats). Her motto is: “why run when you can walk?” and she’s got the fat stores to back it up.
This little arsehole looks like butter wouldn't melt. Well, let me tell you the truth!
Each morning she gets a treat, she has a jar of them with 5 or 6 different varieties, and I pull one out of the jar and offer it to her.
If I don't pull the right one, she sniffs at it and then bites my finger.. not hard, but just enough to get the point across that I'm shirking in my duties and to pick another fucking treat before someone gets hurt.
This morning none of the treats were right. I ended up throwing a berry one into the cage from a distance and running into another room. I'm currently huddled in the bottom of the closet under a pile of coats (not really...).
She's bullying me. She weights less than a bottle of milk.