GUITAR HERO

Maybe I'm working too hard.

Not getting enough sleep, perhaps.

Or, possibly 'twas a bad batch of shrooms in my morning scrambled-eggs-in-a-cup.

Hard to say.

All I know is I spent the entire night dreaming -- rather vividly, I might add -- about a rogue Guinea pig scurrying about my house.

Cute little fella (at least I assumed he was a fella).  But irritating.

I'd go to catch him and he'd dart under the couch or behind a chair.

Finally, spying him sleepily sunning himself on a living room windowsill, I was able to grab him by the scruff of his furry light brown neck.

Fidgety little whiner.

I tried to pet him, to assure him I was his friend.

He would have none of it. Wrangled his way out of my arms, plopped to the floor, and made a dash toward the bedroom.

I remember feeling angry as I followed him, thinking to myself that he was very much wearing out his welcome.

Had him cornered.

Then he picked up a tiny guitar and broke into a riff.

Man, that cavy could jam!

Didn't recognize it, though. Sort of a Smoke On The Water/Layla/In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida combo is my best guess.

Pretty darn amazing for a lab rat sans opposable thumbs.

How could I stay mad?

Then I woke up.

Oh, what to make of my delusional guinea pig guitar hero...

A rodent playing his way into my heart?

Wouldn't be the first time...

But, hey!  No time to analyze.  Day job's a callin'.

TGITH!