Is this weird? (Stop that!) Biffle has been gone for more than 24 hours now, but I keep forgetting he’s not still here. And it’s not as if I paid much attention to him during the week he stayed with me. But he did sort of react whenever I’d walk past his cage, and he chattered sometimes when he was feeling neglected. I also fed him twice a day and kept his water bottle filled.

That’s pretty much it, though. We didn’t engage in any deep philosophical discussions (Well, I did ask him what he thought was wrong with the Giants’ hitting this season. His opinion was that they might need their cage cleaned.) I don’t recall caring, at any time during that week, how he reacted when I went in and out of the door, or turned the lights on and off, or sang along with the Jeopardy theme.

But since he’s gone home (and it took me awhile to get rid of him; David and Tammy kept forgetting he was here, until I told them I was thinking of returning their guinea pig to the wild), I find myself thinking how he would react when I slam pots around in the kitchen, or turn the lights on at sundown. It’s not that I care how he’d react, but it’s a passing thought that crosses my mind.

Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t want a pet. It’s not selfishness; on the contrary, I don’t think I have enough to offer a fellow creature. I’m too set in my ways. I’ve earned my solitude, and it suits me. Besides, the landlord doesn’t allow pets here, so I make do with the lizards and turkeys. They’re not much for conversation, but frankly, neither was Biffle.