Surveillance of a Guinea Pig

I inspect him, a sweetheart specimen in a cage. Fluffy like winter snow. Squeaking in tempo. In a cage. Critically he secretly watches me. A wave of dread seeps into my head when I scroll through my phone instead of studying. He monitors me in captivity. Crazy cute and certainly not mute, Marshmallow the Guinea pig squeals to demand a cold crunchy carrot. Feisty while foraging through the vegetable garden, Marshmallow the guinea pig has more to say than a cockatoo parrot. Jolts of excitement race inside his fun-sized body. In a cage. Critically lurking. If I pick my nose, he knows. Under his mustache smirking. His squeak sounds meek but if he could talk fur - real, I’d undergo an ordeal if my secrets he chose to reveal. A puff of fluff that I cuddle when life gets rough. He popcorns and plays while I spend my days in lectures on Zoom. Marshmallow knows I hate being alone in a room. In a cage. Critically I need him.