You wouldn’t believe it, but…

You know what really bugs me?

There is this little myth that animals don’t have facial expressions.

According to some scientists (who I imagined as pale little gnomes who live in an isolated cell in the middle of Antarctica, where it’s so cold that not even POLAR BEARS or PENGUINS or BACTERIA can survive),

“animals have no capacity for emotion, feelings, expression, or attachments”.

Unfortunately, this makes Guido a true freak of nature. Because, just wait until you see this.

HUNGRY GUIDO:

To those dear scientists: This is very frightening expression indeed. And this is what I am faced with when Guido has not had enough gelato… and demands it!  In fact, he lives with such a strong emotional attachment to Straciatella Gelato that he suffers massive bouts of separation anxiety when he has not had enough.

Guido has hundreds of other expressions too. Especially when confronted with THE DARK, TREACHEROUS NEIGHBERHOOD KITTY. In a span of 30 seconds he cycles through a total of six expressions.

The beginning:

Christine feels like a passionate, kindly person and decides to give Neighborhood Kitty a taste of Gelato.

Guido’s First Expression:  Thoughtful

Christine would never give gelato to THE DARK SIDE would she?

Then…

Confused.

Huh? What? Who? There is TOTALLY something missing in the picture here…

Then snooty.

Well, who cares? I don’t need Christine anyways. I can get my own gelato just fine.

AND BITTER.

Seriously, this can’t be happening! I can’t believe this!

Then back to where we started:

GIVE… ME… GELATO…I’m hungry too!!!

Thus, I have successfully proven that Guido is capable of expression.

Not only is Guido able to give you hateful looks that leave you quivering with terror, but he is also able to melt you into a piteous, guilty puddle of goo when you do not follow his wishes.

Such is life with Guido.

The lesson to all the pale little gnome scientists: Get a mouse. You’ve got to see it to believe it.

Guido's Wisdom: I topi hanno sentimenti troppo ("Mice have feelings too").

OPERA, IT HAPPENS

Here's something you may have noticed about Italians. They think they're the coolest, most badass people on the planet, even when they're doing something ridiculous.



Take opera, for instance. Can you think of anyone in the USA who thinks opera is semi-cool? I can’t. But ask an Italian (this is done easily even if you don’t speak the language-- just gesticulate as if you have an incredible need to go to the bathroom) and they'll nod  and maybe even belt out a few lines of Andrea Bocelli themselves. In their imaginations they're cool. Actually they're nuts.

Point is, Italians are dead-certain that opera's cool. Therefore no matter what radio station you try, you'll always get trapped into hearing some Italian that sounds as though a giant octopus has just gotten a hold of his vocal chords and is trying to surgically remove them with nasty little dental tools.

Anyways, I was sitting at my desk sipping my cafe latte when one of the most horrendous opera songs EVER came on. Guido seemed to think it was horrendous too-- he started squeeking and running around in circles for the next five minutes with his paws over his ears (in a most human-like fashion) as if he thought he was some sort of angry Cinderella mouse.

He looked so tortured that I decided to postpone (yay!) my email to my parents and instead make up develop a story about his past-- one that involves some terrible traumatic event that has to do with opera.

Here goes: GUIDO'S STORY

Once upon a time there was a baby mouse named Guido. He had a Madre Mouse and a Padre Mouse and two little sorella mice (named Ita and Rafaella).

All of his family were the best opera mice in Italy. Unfortunately, Guido's voice was SO terrible that his family told him to GO AWAY and figure out how to get his own voice.

Which he did eventually, because he was a growing boy and his voice was developing.

But it was opera, so it still sucked, and he didn't want to be an opera mouse anyways, because...

…He was super smart! Actually, he was such a friggin' genius mouse that he decided to ditch Southern Italy and instead sit around in a panini shop and get free food!

 

But then he met me...

And he liked me better because I gave him free Panini AND gelato.

                                         Mmmmmm... yummy picture.

But, even now, every time he hears opera on the radio it still brings him back to his days as a poor, outcast Opera Mouse with unforgiving parents, and this puts him into a traumatized state.

THE END.

Therefore, Guido and I will forever more live by this Forrest Gump take-off motto:

Guido’s quote for the day is the same thing: “d'opera, accade."