Four little guinea pigs

It was a time, so long ago when there were a bunch of four little guinea pigs. One so small, the other very tall, the Third so pretty and the last so cute. They came from all over the country and met in a beautiful place called Paradise. They decided to call the P place home away from home. Here they lived with each other day in and day out, sleeping with each other, wa(l)king with each other. They sometimes lived in a sty and at other times it was transformed into a beautiful, tastefully done housie.
She was the dancing queen and she was the "B"ombshell, while she was "louve"d by one and all "but" she seemed to exude the 'Y' factor. They were so alike to love each other dearly and yet so different to sustain the interest. With each passing day, they were thrown in together in their very own paradise, a paradise that they had created. Familiarity breeds contempt or does it? They looked at derision at other birds "flock"ing together and knew how they were meant to stay, to be. They were fast growing up, learning, teaching each other the little things in life. They brought their noses close together in moments of ecstasy or when dark clouds seemed to loom large. They were oft seen running around in the wilderness where "sky" was the limit to fun. They were having the time of their lives and with each passing day they were growing closer to moving on, each with its life, and so many memories to cherish. Then came the day, a day when they each blossomed and though they were happy about this, they knew they would have to leave this place called paradise where they had done most of their growing up. They held each other one last time and sang

Four whole years,
And we knew know fears,
Today as we stand,
Together hand in hand,
We think of those sweet moments shared,
When each cared and cared,
But each of us carry memories,
That shall make grandma stories
Forever and ever and ever and ever