TAJ HUGGING RAJ MAHAL

Gentle Readers,

You may notice these next posts take us on a little trip down memory lane. We are waxing nostalgic just days before our move and thought it would be fun to enjoy some of our recent, lighter moments together at PandaPigSanctuary on Scudder Pond.

Also, to help out anyone still confused about the Mahals:  Taj Mahal is the brown, swirly pig on TOP hugging Raj Mahal (calico, long-haired) on the bottom!  They are both sweet and riotously playful, full of laughter and pranks, like stealing each others' food and chasing one another in and out of their big, blue Pigloo.  Good Mahals! Showing us punky pigs that making nice is a good thing! 

OUR FAVORITE SONG, STILL!

REMEMBERING MOM'S HAPPY TIMES WITH GUINEA PIGGIN' AT MOUNT BAKER BEFORE BLIZZARD!

Dear Readers,

Before we move from the Outback into the city, the Mahals and I wanted to feature some pictures of mom at her happiest:
up way high, closer to heaven, setting up Guinea Piggin' for his pre-blizzard photo shoot! This is where mom longs to be and most belongs! She was a wildlife photographer/outdoor writer/environmental educator before she got sick in 1986. She feels most bestest out in the wilderness with Guinea Piggin' and cross-county skis, and - OF COURSE! - a camera or two! That's a happy mom! And a happy little Guinea Piggin' from the looks of it. Since Edwin is in Seattle, Guinea Piggin is the only one who can go up to Mount Baker with her until school gets out and her bff, Susan, comes back up for some summer trekking!

Mom, we hope you are not in a wheelchair. We hope Susan caffeinates you sufficiently for some high country Burly Mountain Girl Time and you give us pictures to post!

Meanwhile, get that rainbow in your head to behave because all us Pigolletos know we have GOOD TIMES AHEAD!

MOM, DON'T WORRY! BE HAPPY!

love,
me (YumYum, Raj, and Taj Mahal)

p.s. mom, when is the "Count DracuPig" nameplate coming off my cage? seriously, you weren't going to leave it there, not after i wrote this post of you all happy, right? put back "YumYum, the One and Only Greatest Guinea Pig Ever" please. thank you. YY.

MOM'S INNER RAINBOW GONE ASKEW!

Dear Readers, Sweet, Wonderful Readers: We are now 48 hours from The Big Move and mom seems ajar, somehow.
So, we are all being very sweet and nice and affectionate and supportive.
She adores the new place, an artistic cathedral of LIGHT, and rumor has it we may even receive two junior zoo-keepers to help mom socialize Raj and Taj, who are actually coming along really well. This morning is the first time Taj actually came out seeking affection from mom instead of food! And he let her pet and play with him through the bars of his cage!

But Junior Zookeepers would be SO COOL! She even still has her Zoo Vest and another vest they could wear while they play with us and teach us that being loved by people is safe and feels good. I already know that, but the Mahals are just beginning to.

Mom, I am sorry for biting you. But it really hurt my feelings when you took your big blue magic marker and wrote:
"Count DracuPig" on the name plate of my cage. I never mean to bite you, I'm just chattering my teeth to teach the new Mahals who is boss, ya know...but maybe I could be nice and maybe we don't need a boss, really, just love.

The Junior Zookeepers would really help.

Mom, do you want me to be sweet all the time? Because, if you do, I could start when we move. It'll be a fresh start.

Part of the problem is the grief I still feel (and know you do, too) over PandaPig and Bear. I miss them all the time. And maybe, although I do love the Mahals, I've been trying to tell them they can never replace PandaPig and Bear. And maybe that is not the healthiest way to grieve, especially since their living here has cheered us all up so much and we laugh and they have so much fun "WWWWWWWhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeking!" and popcorning and chasing each other and stealing each other's food and just bringing us comfort and joy to help turn grief into happiness.

So, mom, I am going to join you when we move, and become a Hip, Urban, Bohemian, Art Pig (HUBAP) as we move forward.

Maybe your rainbow will be right-side-up Inside your head tomorrow, because I know you miss Panda And Bear, too.

love,
the newly reformed (tell Auntie Ann! tell Auntie Ann!)
Yum-Yum

DOMMY-DOM WOULD LIKE A WORD

Dear Mom,

Every one of the Pigolletos, including Count DracuPig, enjoys receiving comments on their blog. But, being a boy myself,
I don't think Count DracuPig is going to behave once he realizes he has an audience. He will only escalate his behaviour
to earn his reputation as what his mom accidently called him in her outside voice. Which I will not repeat.

Remember the shirt you gave his mom that she wears everyday, and I quote:

"VAMPIRE PENGUINS?
ZOMBIE GUINEA PIGS?

We're done for...done for."

Well? You better get us up there STAT before the Gleeks are "done for" 'cause it sounds like they're getting there fast!

Yours Truly,

Sir Dominic,
because I CARE!

oh dear, we're done for...done for...Can WE GO FOR A WALK NOW?!

MOM, AFTER THE RAINBOW CAN WE WATCH YOU TUBE?

SCUDDER POND SAYS FAREWELL TO US

HOW THE MAHALS "SHARE" BREAKFAST! COURTESY OF YouTube

Guini Pig SINGING

WE HELP MOM CLEAN OUR CAGES! NOT.

TRAINING THE MAHALS IN NON-VIOLENT CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE

Dear Readers,

Now that I am the Head of "The Herd that Hears" I have something the herd needs to hear: To make it in this world, do not allow yourself to do any of the things mom asks you to do because then you will lose all respect for yourself.  We are all males. Not females. I am the #1 Alpha Male of dis here boy-band, thus: Here is my photo essay on Civil Disobedience.

Ok, Ok, everybody, calm down! Yeah, I bit that woman's hand the other night and the medics came (blah, blah, blah, they made jokes about how guinea pigs would taste on a barbeque grill) AND THEY CALL THEMSELVES FIRST RESPONDERS? They just NASTY!

So, big deal, then mom spent half the night in the Emergency Room having the gusher flushed out, cleaned, getting pain meds and antibiotics and what EVER. Mom, it's not like this is the first time, you should know the routine by now and not make QUITE such a drama out of it. You know one of the friends moving you is going to wash all that blood off the walls, so just take a deep breath, focus on your whatever-the-yoga-you-do Thing, and relax. That's a good mom. There you go...calm down.

Now, we get to the Mahals. What mom did next set the stage for their first Really Big Lesson in Gandhi-esque revolution:

Mom felt that since I was the one who bit her, she could just hand me her guinea pig cage & clean "To Do" list, which she did.

Mahals, listen UP! That's it, Raj, watch closely: Politely thank mom for the opportunity to pitch in and help, since she is one-handed yet again (which, if you really reflect upon it, doesn't speak so highly of mom's learning curve)
and accept the list graciously.

Act as if it would be an honor to read the list and follow the stuff the blue letters on the paper say to do.

Now, Mahals, REALLY PAY ATTENTION NOW: The second mom thanks you and turns her back, DESTROY THE LIST, EAT IT, CHEW IT UP, AND THEN - AS A PARTING GESTURE OF "OH YEAH, RIGHT, MOM, YA THINK WE'RE ALL A BUNCH OF LITTLE GIRLS?" YOU MUST PEE ON IT. A FEW TIMES. That Way, the blue letters change and mom has no proof that she ever asked you to do anything in the first place.

And, now that we have a chirper amongst us, get Taj to chirp to the birds, which mom finds so delightful she forgets all about the list and goes about cleaning our cages with her newly bandaged hand covered by a rubber glove.

And THAT, Mahals, is how we do iT!

IF THESE PHOTOS ARE COMPLETELY OUT OF SEQUENCE IT IS INTENTIONAL: WE ARE NOT LINEAR THINKERS, we are creative dreamers! Just scroll down and figure it goes bottom to top, ok?

Thank you, dear Readers. Just had to do this while mom was out getting us ready to move this weekend.

Humbly,
your sweet darling, YumYum

WHO DA MAN? WHO DA MAN? WHO DA MAN? YUM-YUM CAN! YUM-YUM CAN! YUM CAN 'CAUSE I DA MAN!

COUNT PIGULA, BITER-PIG affectionately KNOWN AS YUM-YUM, REQUESTS HIS OWN ANT FARM

ant farm - Google Product Search
we may move in to an ant farm if this weekend's move goes as swimmingly as the rest of the week has gone.
Just who, exactly, is this "Uncle Milton" guy and what is ant gel? mom not sure of the meaning of life tonight.

OOPSY, WAS THAT MOM'S HAND...AGAIN?

Dear Readers,

Is it really 2:12 in the morning? That can only mean ONE THING, YUP! I bit That Woman's hand again and she just got home from the Emergency Room and had to watch Sarah Silverman for awhile to cool off because, well, it kinda hurts. You'd think that woman would learn to use an oven mitt next time she allows me in the Play Pen with the Mahals...or anybody, for that matter. Except Panda, I never bit Panda.

Well, mom is pretty tired, but at least This time they nipped that old infection in the bud and took real good care of her after it stopped squirting blood all over the place: WHAT A GUSHER! ick.

Then she came home and gave us all hay because she wanted us to know she was not mad at anybody!

How great is THAT? Hay at 2am! Guess I won't be getting back in the PlayPen with the Mahals, though. Just by myself to run around and sport my mohawk and adorable head-crest!
OH WELL,
HAY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! AM I DA MAN, OR WHAT?

p.s. sorry, mom. that is why i am hiding in my hidey-hole with deep remorse. so you'll know how sorry i am about, well, ya know. put something else in my mouth next time! like, uh, oh, i dunno: FRESH TIMOTHY HAY, LIKE THIS MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT "SNACK 'N online with SARAH SILVERMAN PLAYDATE!" cool!

YUM-YUM MISSING HIS OLD FRIENDS

Dear Readers,

Yes, we have posted this photo before. But it reflects my current mood, what with so many rapid changes in our lives: we miss PandaPig and Bear, love Raj and Taj Mahal more and more every minute, are packing to move from our home on the wildlife
sanctuary and adjacent nature preserve into a bright, sunny, hip, accessible, urban apartment, and mom is still totally in denial about needing a wheelchair, so she's shopping for a hot $6,ooo Paralympics Racing Cycle!
We don't have an extra $6, but Denial is ok in the beginning, so we'll go along with it for a short while longer.

The wheelchair was free, courtesy
of the Lion's Club of Bellingham, for as long as mom needs it. She thinks we will all thrive once the move is over and we begin
our new life, knowing what it will be like without all the question marks. So, lots of busy packing and paperwork for mom
this week, and lots of playing with Raj and Taj Mahal through the bars of our cages because we're getting to be real good friends
and they are youthful, full of energy, joy, and chase each other like short-track Olympic speedskaters around their Pigloo,
running so fast after one another, popping into and through the Pigloo, racing around it, playing hide and seek as fast as
their little piggie feet will run them around and around, spraying litter, hay, food, and all sorts of piggie detritus out the cage
and onto the carpet! They are half my age but twice my size! They chat and talk and wheek and love mom but play this trick
on her, any fool can see they're "playin' her" except for mom: She gives us bite-sized pieces of celery so we don't choke on the
long, stringy parts, they take a bite and then pretend to drop it. So, mom gives them another piece, sympathetically asking was the first one too small, too big, exactly what would make it perfect? What do they do? Drop it again! Amazed, they give her the
"Mom, what's happening? We don't understand..." look and, of course, she hands another piece of celery to those greedy little
mouths of theirs, the drop game continues, and before long they have a "stash" of celery pieces accumulated on their cage floor
each with only one tiny bite taken out of it. Which, once breakfast - and, now, dinner - is over, they greedily consume with glee and high-five each other when mom leaves the scene of their sneaky food crime! Bad, bad, Mahals. Guess that's why we get along so well. They take after me!

G'night, readers. A storm is brewing and wind and mountain snow but mom will pack on, the sun returns for our weekend move, and she does not have $6,0000 dollars so we plan to ask her lots of questions about her "new racing bike" to take her
mind off the old wheelchair that works just fine from the Lion's Club. She got her first wheelchair catalog today with an old
lady on the cover playing with her young grandson joyfully from a brand, new wheelchair and she got so nauseated by the thought of it, she...

Never mind. We are blessed. This, too shall pass.

Yum-Yum and Mahals OUT!

4d5q7531-molly-owlet-85x11.jpg (JPEG Image, 3300x2550 pixels) - Scaled (24%)

4d5q7531-molly-owlet-85x11.jpg (JPEG Image, 3300x2550 pixels) - Scaled (24%)

Molly, McGee and Owlets 4-25-10 « Molly's Box

Molly, McGee and Owlets 4-25-10 « Molly's Box

Dear Readers,

Yesterday, we featured the photo set-up Carlos rigged up. Today, enjoy the fruit of his labor
with these stunning images captured of Life at Molly's Box!
Enjoy!

p.s. yeah, maybe the gopher not enjoy so much, sorry, but the owls are pretty.

YumYum Back in Action: Mahals cheering me up, makin' me Laugh, dey's so funny!

"HEY RAJ, WHAT UP ON THE PIGLOO TONIGHT?"

TAJ MAHAL SAW US FEATURE TWO-TONED LOWER LIPS AND "STRUCK THE POSE!"

RAJA SHARES HIS TWO-TONED BOTTOM LIP: HE SO PROUD!

MOLLY'S OWL BOX CAMERA SET-UP

img_2723-landing-pad-and-cameras.jpg (JPEG Image, 3300x2550 pixels) - Scaled (24%)

Dear MODS (Molly Obsessive Disorder),

We thought you'd enjoy a view of how Carlos is bringing Molly, McGee, and the owlettes into your
living room! Pretty cool, huh?

How many of you think it's the least mom can do for us, now that there's a "bird-chirper"
(yes, YOU, Taj Mahal) among us?

I count three paws, it's unanimous: Mom, set up the cameras so millions of people around
the world can watch us "Wheek!" for breakfast, chase each other furiously around our Pigloo,
then collapse and sleep until we hear and smell the fridge door open again!

Enjoy Molly, you MODS. We are ONE!

YumYum Out!

IF NOBODY LOOKING, ME GONNA CHIRP AGAIN! MAKE MOMMA LAUGH!

SPRING COMES TO SCUDDER POND AS WE PREPARE TO SAY "GOODBYE, WILD FRIENDS"

LET'S TAP OUR TOES TO START "THE BREAKFAST DANCE!"

NOW LET'S DO "THE BREAKFAST DANCE!"

KING OF THE WORLD!

CAN AN EDITOR CONSOLE RAJ? THAT IS THE QUESTION BEFORE US.

NOTE FROM EDITOR: Today, Mozilla Firefox CRUSHED INTO COSMIC PARTICLES OF DUST the literary dreams and aspirations of an exceptionally talented, albeit young, inexperienced author. You see, dear readers, our little YumYum generously offered the weekend position of blogster to "the pretty one," Raj, who this morning blogged eloquently about how The Editor discovered that wheelchairs, unlike bicycles, cannot be stopped or turned once they are rolling rapidly at break-neck speed down the smooth, newly-paved path at Boulevard Park heading DIRECTLY INTO a bulwark of sharp, jagged Cascade Mountain GRANITE,
a sea-wall designed to keep Bellingham Bay from going all Tsumani &stuff on our favorite local park!

Raj recounted the true, breathtaking narrative more raptly than an action-movie filled with aliens and Special Effects! Speilberg and George Lucas, eat your hearts out.  You know, Hillary Swank is from Bellingham,
yeah, it's true. We're not just a bunch of small town nobodies. Uh-uh! oh Yeah!
OH<AND ZOMBIES! GUINEA PIGS LOVE ZOMBIES. AND, WHETHER OR NOT THEY FIT INTO A STORY, ZOMBIES MUST ALWAYS BE INCLUDED. Perhaps, in retrospect, not including zombies precipitated what came next:

Having written adroitly about The Editor's stupid, near-TRAGIC- death experience with fiery passion and literary acumen rarely found in 9-month-old guinea pigs (descended from Royalty to uplift Humanity)

it d.is.ap.eared. it v a n i s h e d off the screen. gone. out the back, Jack, take a little scram, Sam: Raj's masterpiece  went soaring Invisibly - in the blink of an eye - into Cyberspace, never to been seen or heard from again. Kleenex, we need Kleenex
 STAT!

(Pause for moment of silence.)

Proud of his blogPost accomplishment, we had all waxed eloquent; dreaming aloud of the Pigitzer Prize he was bound to win,
and how we would live with Raj's new-found fame as a suddenly discovered literary prodigy living humbly among us regular folk, called Bellinghamsters. Just folk.

Cavies everywhere would REJOICE, naming their offspring Raj, whether girl or boy was irrelevant: an entire generation of Rajs and Rajettes would be born into a world make better for Cavies everywhere because our very own Raj gave Voice to the CavyCause:  human recognition of Guinea Pig brilliance, genius, and unprecedented creative innovation in an artistic genre usually reserved for heroic horse and dog stories.
Raj sacrificed his poetic voice and personal anonymity for the recognition and newfound respect that cavies would receive GLOBALLY! And maybe people would even stop serving them for breakfast in Peru and the Congo like egg McMuffins!

We were already dicing fragrant, fresh celery and carrots into bite-sized pieces (because they can choke and die if you give them long, striny pieces, so all celery must be chopped into small, bite-sized pieces for guinea pigs) and The Editor was going to make Popcorn and Hot Cocoa for Her OWN Breakfast Celebration! POPCORN AND COCOA!

Gird your loins, dear reader, for suddenly, the fates turned against us:

The computer crashed, leaving us all stunned; staring in mute horror and disbelief as Raj's dream went: blank.

He's too young for this much pain, we squealed to the Zombies we know made this happen because, let's face it, they just didn't fit into this particular story.

                                                                          -*-

It's our fault, isn't it, for not insisting he save his work as he typed furiously Inspired as he was?
And nobody insisted he include Zombies. Was that wrong?

                                                                         -*-

Now, our little one is in the agony normally reserved for alcoholic human Artists, one all too familiar to the rest of us, but an agony that no nine-month old pretty guinea pig should ever be forced to endure in relative obscurity. Shoulders as little Raj's are too delicate for Heartbreak so early in his promising career. Now all he seems interested in is figure skating... and that is so wrong! Not when the Editor is practically over- the- top self-destructing in her new wheelchair.

No, someone must ragain their senses (and nobody's money is on the Editor.) Figure skating can wait.

Raj, we are so sorry, our little pearl. Take a post or two to tell the world how you feel. We are behind you all the way, little one.

P.S. As of today, none of us are Zombie fans. TAKE THAT, ZOMBIES, YOU PICKED THE WRONG HERD TO MESS WITH!

As we all take our warm milk and honey with a dash of cardamom earlier these days due to mom's rapid decline in health, we shall bid you all adieu and ask each of you to boycott Zombie products in protest of their bullying such a delicate, newly emerging talent as our pretty little Raj Mahal.

Editor out, YumYum out, Taj and Raj now grazing for hay, so we all out.

Thank you for understanding Raj's agony as he posts his emotionally response to this tragedy in the following excerpts.

G'night, all. We move in one week. Then life with be full of joy, sunshine, lattes, and Inspiration! We love you all.

NOTE FROM EDITOR

WE now offer our little Raj Mahal space to express himself without editorial censorship and permission to use punctuation created by humans in ways which best serve our pretty little guinea pig's devastated muse.

MY WORLD ASKEW FOREVER NOW

DEAR READERS,

Well EXCUSE ME! SORryy? you's SORry????? hey, i'm da Nices pig, too, n even not nices t now amymore!

just got a message from the FireFox monkeys a sayin' dey so sorry 'bout da crash that put my life dis crooked.

SORRY? SORRRRRRYYYYYYYY? maybe i knows why da YumYum coppin' da attitude now.

i coppin' da "my world askew forever" visual image for you to see how DEStroyeD Me is from DemFireFoxMonllkeys after Reading nest post yous know Why I crooked now. Now gonna Tunr you firefoSES over to YUM YUM: he goonna EAT YOU!