PeeWee and Plush by Johanna Hurwitz Page A

rustling in a slight breeze, a cricket calling to another cricket, and far off the sound of city traffic.
    â€œAre you cold?” I asked Plush.
    â€œHow can I be cold?” she asked. “I learned in the pet shop that guinea pigs are warm-blooded, like all other mammals,” she reminded me. Still, I could feel her body shaking.
    â€œRest, rest,” I cooed. And gradually her shuddering stopped and her body relaxed. After a time, I knew that she was asleep. I was drifting off too, but I forced myself to stay awake a bit longer. It had been a longtime since I had smelled the scent of another guinea pig so close to me. I wanted to enjoy it as long as possible.
    When I woke the next morning, I thought I’d dreamed that another guinea pig had come to live with me. Then I opened my eyes and I saw Plush. She wasn’t a dream. She was real!
    Usually I’d leave my hole as soon as I’d awake. But that morning, I lay quietly and waited until I heard Plush stirring.
    â€œGood morning,” I greeted her.
    â€œIs it?” she asked, puzzled. It was the first time she had awakened somewhere other than in a cage, and she seemed confused and anxious.
    â€œOf course!” I jumped up and poked myhead out of the tree hole. “The sun is shining and we must find you some breakfast.”
    â€œWill you bring something to me here?” Plush asked.
    I turned around. “Don’t you want to stretch your legs? Don’t you want to smell the fresh air? Don’t you want to see the world?”
    â€œNot now,” she answered. “Not yet.”
    â€œDidn’t you sleep well?” I asked.
    â€œI just want to rest here. Breakfast in bed would be a real treat,” she told me.
    â€œOf course,” I responded. I would do anything to make my new companion as happy as I was.
    I ran through the shrubbery that grew near our tree and looked up at the neighboringtree where Lexi lived. Sure enough, he was sitting on a limb chewing on something.
    â€œGood morning,” I called to him.
    â€œAnd a good one it is,” he called back. “Shall we give Plush a tour of the park this morning?” He raced down the tree trunk with his usual speed. I always marveled at his ability. “Where’s Plush?” he asked.
    â€œShe’s still in the hole. She wants me to bring her something to eat.”
    â€œBring her something? Is she sick?”
    â€œNo. Just resting,” I said. I didn’t think Plush was ill. I wanted to run back and ask her but decided against it. Instead, I’d find her a choice item to eat and her appetite would tell me about her health.
    â€œ
Life in a hole is fit only for a mole
,” said Lexi. He has a way of reciting proverbs that helearned from his mother. They are usually quite right, but sometimes they’re just annoying. This was one of those times.
    Lexi went to the opening of our hole. “Plush! Come on out,” he called.
    â€œGood morning,” Plush replied. But she did not move.
    Three little sparrows flew down to the foot of our tree. “The sun . . . is out . . . today,” they sang, each chirping two syllables of their message. Plush looked out at them, staring wide-eyed at these new visitors. But she did not move.

    I began to think she would stay in our hole forever. “I think she’s afraid of the outside,” I whispered to Lexi.
    â€œBut she can’t stay inside all day long,” he said.
    â€œWhy not?” I asked miserably. Here I was with a beautiful mate, and I couldn’t convince her to share the world with me.
    â€œShe’ll starve,” said Lexi firmly. “If you don’t bring her food, that is.”
    â€œI can’t do that,” I moaned.
    â€œYes, you can,” said Lexi firmly. But he was wrong. I couldn’t do it. I spent the next few hours running back and forth bringing new seeds and nuts to Plush. I was tired and