A hamster situation

I’m consistently surprised Chris let me have children. I don’t do good with small things I’m required to clean and feed and take care of.

Then again, well, they weren’t exactly “planned,” so he didn’t really have much of a choice, did he?

But if I were him, I would have been shaking in my Batman boxers. Which do exist, by the way. In case you were wondering. (They’re too small.)

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there.

The point is, that a few weeks prior to our wedding, I got a hamster. I always wanted a hamster, but my dad has this thing about pets intended to be kept in cages. He doesn’t agree with it.

But I wasn’t going to be living with my parents much longer so I bought a hamster. A fluffy little thing I named Bear. And I loved him. NAY! I adored him.

Unfortunately, he died the next day. He had a case of hamster wet tail thanks to the lovely people at Petsmart and their amazing rodent caring skills.

(For those of you who know anything about hamster wet tail, it’s highly contagious, so all the hamsters in that cage, and probably the store, had it.)

We did everything to save little Bear; my sister even took him to the vet while I was at work and tried to get them to save him. They gave instructions and antibiotics, but he still died several hours later. My mom called Chris to break the news to me. Yes, my mom called my future husband so HE could tell me that my $10 hamster that I had less than 24 hours had died.

I took it just a wee-bit rough.

Chris, being the ever loving and caring fiancee, went to another store and got me a new one. A little ball of fluff named Rocko.

And then we got Kitty-Kitty. Do you see where this is going?

BUT YOU’RE WRONG.

Rocko survived Kitty-Kitty’s attack, and while he went missing for a couple of days, we eventually found and caught him.

Only for him to survive a couple of more weeks and then die under his exercise wheel, presumably from a heart attack. I don’t know. I’m not a hamster doctor.

I haven’t had the courage to get another one since, but as Caitlin is getting older and understanding the world around her, I find myself taking her to Petsmart and having to talk myself down from the ledge of buying one. Quite frankly, that just sounds like a terrible idea; the only two places we could put the cage is on the kids dresser (which she knows how to climb onto now) and on the island counter (which would drive Chris nuts). So, I solidify the idea that it’s just not plausible and try and convince Chris that Linux wouldn’t eat neither a pig or a cat, so those are wonderful anniversary present ideas hint hint.

But watching them run on the exercise wheel can entertain me for hours that I don’t have.

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