The most I knew about guinea pigs before I met Caby was that they were rodent-y cage creatures. That all changed, given she is only about the most knowledgeable person about them in the known universe. Her username when I met her, to be clear, was "gwtagacw", which is Welsh for "cavy crazy", cavies being the family guinea pigs (plus capybaras!) belong to, and a name that often gets applied to guinea pigs singularly.
My singular retro digicam image of the guinea pigs. This was back when Rosemary and Mooney were still around, bless them.
Now on my fourth visit as I write this (the 2025 one you're reading about being number three in line), with the piggos scampering about next to me in their cage that takes up roughly a sixth of their lounge, it's hard not to be magnetized by them. They are so unlike any other animal I've been around in person or read about online. They have such funny little mannerisms. They're stupid and think they're really smart, and yet have surprisingly human personalities and quirks to them.
Here's a couple reasons why guinea pigs have grown on me and things I find fascinating about them.
They shouldn't be real, but are
Look at them. They are potatoes with dumb little legs and mouths that do lots of nibbles. This is something made in a lab or conceived of for a Doctor Who plotline, not a real thing you should be able to keep in your house. But you can! It probably suits that they're indeed rather domesticated. Wild cavies tend to look a lot more like pikas or gerbils, more lithe and shaped like other rodents. Guinea pigs, on the other hand, are fluffy sausages that occasionally resemble a sack of coins (and they need infacol if they do).
They're incredibly stupid and weak and don't know it
Guinea pigs are the neediest creatures on the planet. They hear a bag or the fridge door and they scream for food. The bravest guinea pigs will wander into the hallway to demand dinner. They seem to think we're big guinea pigs, and actually the stupid ones, not them. They think they are so secretive and so fearsome. Show them a plushie guinea pig (who often resemble them quite amazingly) and they will rumblestrut at it, until you pull it away, and then be quite pleased they intimidated away the strange creature. They think cables are tree roots and are attracted to chew through them.
At the same time, they don't climb, they're not good at defending themselves (a guinea pig nip has a chance of not even breaking skin), and all their burrows in the wild are borrowed from other creatures. Their most fearsome attack is walking onto your lap and peeing on it. Everything could be an eagle. The most scared Sherlock (all of Caby's guinea pigs are named after fictional detectives, despite all being female) has ever been has been at a light breeze in the garden. You have to love a tiny little creature that is convinced they are a polar bear, then gets scared away by a stiff wind.
They are such big personalities in a way I've never seen from other animals
It's not that you don't get dogs that aren't different from other dogs, or varyingly sociable cats, but guinea pig personalities are as surprisingly disparate as humans at times. Of Caby's piggos, Rosemary was almost like a guinea pig ambassador to the humans, brave and cuddly and happy to sit on the sofa without supervision. Bergerac was curmudgeonly, happy to be around the noise other guinea pigs but easily annoyed being in the same cage as them. Enola barely feels like a guinea pig at all sometimes, and quite destructive to boot.
It's the fact that they do lead such big lives with such strong feelings that makes them so much fun to be around. They're effectively part of the family, and again, I've owned other pets, so I know you can say that about most animals. There's something unique to guinea pigs though that almost escapes description.
They're so varied and pretty
The variety in guinea pig breeds rivals cats! Caby's owned shorthairs, rexes, longhaired abyssinians, shorthaired abyssinians, and teddies in every color from dalmatian to agouti, spottled, speckled, and shiny. People really don't realize how varied they can look, but just like their personalities, they are visually very distinct and vibrant.
They convoy
It's an important fact that guinea pigs need to be kept in pairs or larger groups. Being social creatures, they get incredibly lonely without one or more other guinea pigs around to be friends with. Have you ever seen them in a large group chewing through a feast of greens or convoying down a long wooden bridge, however? That's the truly intense bit.
You can create a piggo traffic jam by placing a plate of food right at the end of the bridge. The one in front will stop to eat, and the rest will wait patiently. Absolutely zero thoughts going on up there.
They really can't be categorized with other animals
In terms of diet, guinea pigs are often grouped with rabbits, and naturally, as small rodents, they tend to come up in the same conversations as rats, gerbils, and hamsters. Not that I've owned any of those four (rabbits someday!), but none of them have that specific thing that makes guinea pigs so curious to me. They're a creature so defenseless, yet so convinced of their destructive ability (and given how many of my cables Enola has gone after, maybe that checks out), that look like that, with their short, useless legs and incredibly efficient "hole in the front for food and hole in the back for many tiny poos" design philosophy. It's just perfection.
Rabbits have nasty kicks and claws, hamsters are solitary grumps that at least look rodent-y, but guinea pigs? They don't need to fight, they already won.
They're a lot like Caby, really
They love food, they have such big feelings, they will show you where the plate goes, and they will hide in the back of the cage when they're ill so as to not stress out the rest of the herd. Caby is very much the same. Coincidence? I think hardly. (Caby needs less infacol though.)
In all seriousness, guinea pigs do feel very strongly and do notice your absence as long as they can remember it. Sherlock was properly sad after I went back home this trip, I'm told. We see them as surprisingly human—they see us as surprisingly guinea pig. That's pretty special to me.
And because we're us, here's anthropomorphized fantasy versions of all the guinea pigs Caby's owned so far, as conceived and drawn by her. So lovely. (Click for full-size!)