My first furry pet was a guinea pig.
I don’t know if it was a boy or girl. And I don’t remember if it had a name.
It lived in a monkey cage in the room I shared with my brother.
I wasn’t allowed to open the cage to pet the thing. And I have no idea who fed it, filled the water, or cleaned the cage.
It got out of its cage, cut itself on a sharp edge, and bled to death in a closet.
I cried a lot. Too much.
I shouldn’t have. It was a sucky pet.