It’s not the force of the bite, although it does hurt (they bite through wood after all). It’s the humiliation from having one of the most fragile, easy to kill pets decide that it can express its displeasure by biting your hand.
Damn little meat potato. The only reason you can even bite me is because you’re so damn fragile I can’t risk dropping you. Also, the reason I’m holding you is to trim your nails because you don’t wear them down naturally since you live your entire life on padded flannel blankets. Where do you even get off having displeasure to express?
If you weren’t so damn cute, you’d be on the grill.
Yeah sometimes that is the nature of potato love. They live in a world of absolutes and tremendous dangers; they don’t always have time for calm reflection.
Guinea pig bites are the worst.
It’s not the force of the bite, although it does hurt (they bite through wood after all). It’s the humiliation from having one of the most fragile, easy to kill pets decide that it can express its displeasure by biting your hand.
Damn little meat potato. The only reason you can even bite me is because you’re so damn fragile I can’t risk dropping you. Also, the reason I’m holding you is to trim your nails because you don’t wear them down naturally since you live your entire life on padded flannel blankets. Where do you even get off having displeasure to express?
If you weren’t so damn cute, you’d be on the grill.
You gotta get the little potato some friends, otherwise they’ll develop mental health issues
Naw, the potato has friends. Mental health is still broken.
She’s actually very sweet. She just managed to luck into the discovery that biting gets us to move faster.
Ah, got it.
Yeah sometimes that is the nature of potato love. They live in a world of absolutes and tremendous dangers; they don’t always have time for calm reflection.