The Great Guinea Pig Massacre

The Great Guinea Pig Massacre, seven works,  oil on linen, exhibited at The Continental Cafe, Prahran 1993

The gate was left open

Moonlight bathed the yard,
spilling through the open side gate,
across the grass and onto the driveway

The hutch
The ad hoc home for the little creatures
that the father had put together
with two by four, masonite and chicken wire

The hutch kept them from escaping, 
gave them a snug home
and at the same time made the grass available
whenever they were hungry

When they’d eaten the grass flat,
we just had to move the hutch to a patch of longer grass

Waking to the massacre
The boy was shaken relunctantly awake 
by the odd noises outsside his bedroom window

He pulled back the curtain to peer into the dark backyard

Two dogs were in the hutch!

Terror in the night
There was nowhere to run

The beasts ran amok
Even those that escaped the hutch 
as it was overturned by the excited canines
were quickly cornered in the garden beds or the compost heap

One and all, they became limp bundles of damp fur
in the insatiable maws

Mum, the guinea-pigs!
He ran through the house raising the alarm
only to hear 'Go back to bed. Its only a dream.'

Out into the yard he rushed,
headless of danger
He chased the dogs
down the side and through the open gate
and they were gone

Mum got up early
By the time the children went out the back door,
school bags in hand,
each containing a brown paper bag 
with a vegemite sandwich and a banana,
the mother had gathered up all the furry bundles
into the wheel barrow