I've known for some time that Badger is a few slices short of a complete cucumber, but he's excelled himself this time by leaping from my male staff's lap onto the tiled (and therefore very hard) floor. It may have escaped your attention, but we guinea pigs are not aerodynamically designed. Badger obviously hadn't noticed that small but rather important detail, and took it into his head to try to become the world's first flying cavy.
As it happens I was mooching about on the floor, chewing furniture and leaving little mounds of bush chocolate hither and thither, as one does. Isn't it funny how when one witnesses a traumatic incident one's brain goes into slow motion? (Though I have to add that my male staff's brain is always in slow motion.) I saw Badger suddenly sprint up my male staff's arm onto his shoulder, and before the big oaf could react Badger had flung himself into the void. I watched for a second has he tried to flap his wings in the same manner that he'd seen Mary the half tame magpie do on numerous occasions when she comes for her meat on the deck. What he failed to realise though, was that guinea pigs don't have wings and this led to a rather comical flailing of stubby little legs as he sailed through the air.
As entertaining as all this was, I suddenly realised that I was in the line of fire. A large black and white guinea pig was heading my way at terminal velocity, his big, round butt rapidly filling my vision as he descended towards me. With a loud "wheek!" that was rather more high pitched and girlie than I'd intended I scampered out of the way and hid in my shoebox as Badger hit the floor face first. He seemed to be okay, so I ventured from the safety of my shoebox and mounted him, as any good friend would. Later my female staff noticed that he kept wiping his mouth with his paw so she had a look but could see no damage. All his teeth seemed to be intact, so she let him go back to eating his carrot. A little later she noticed that he was taking ages to eat a basil leaf. This was most unusual. He usually inhales basil leaves. They barely touch the sides as they go down his throat. On this occasion though, when my female staff inspected the basil leaf it didn't even have a single tooth mark on it. It was wet at the end he'd had in his mouth, but that's all. He'd been sucking it! She picked him up and inspected his teeth again. The top two had gone. He'd either swallowed them or left them embedded in a piece of carrot somewhere. He'd obviously damaged them in his attempted flight and they'd snapped off later. He just had two little white stumps sticking out of his gum.
So, down to the vet he went with my male staff. There he was given pain killing medication and antibiotics. They gave Badger some too. Both were spared the baseball bat sized thermometer up the bottom passage. For some reason its only me that gets that sort of treatment. Come to think of it I must have a look. I think Badger might have stuck a sign on my rear end that says "Please insert a baseball bat sized thermometer here." It's just the sort of thing he'd do. Well, it's just the sort of thing I'd do anyway. The vet - Auntie Cara - AKA Doctor Bloody Doolittle told Badger and my male staff not to worry as his teeth will grow back within about a month. Meanwhile my staff have to keep checking his teeth to make sure they're growing back straight. If they grow crooked he could end up looking like a miniature warthog.
Meanwhile, here in the great state of Queensland we are have an election this Saturday to determine which bunch of idiots gets to ruin peoples lives for the next few years. I know this because from the vantage point of my cage I can see the endless political party broadcasts on the telly. Queensland is an odd state - always has been. Until about twenty years ago it had a terrible (justified) reputation for corruption and unrestricted development. Now it has a terrible (justified) reputation for incompetent government. Now the opinion polls are saying that the Incompetent Party are likely to be kicked out of office and replaced once more with the Corruption Party. Luckily guinea pigs are not required to vote, but my staff are. Voting in general and state elections is compulsory in Australia, so my staff are in a quandary. Corruption or Incompetence? Maybe in the end they'll opt for the Red Neck Insanity Party for a change, or Bob Katter's Australia Party as Bob Katter himself prefers to call it.
I wish I'd landed on my feet.