When I was an early teen, I wanted a guinea pig. I begged my parents for one, but they never really did anything about it. I eventually realized that I didn’t really want one, and let the idea go.

A few weeks later, my parents went on a small vacation, and brought back a guinea pig cage to surprise me, and told me they would take me to a pet shop to get one.

I played along like I still wanted one. We went and got one. I didn’t take care of her like I should have, and she died a couple short years later. I’ve felt guilty about it ever since.