Morning is not my favorite time of day. Actually, I like morning just fine... I just don't operate well in it. Unless there's coffee or nookie involved, I generally wander through the first half-hour after waking in prime zombie style. Crooked gaze of the undead? Check. Halting, stumbling steps? Check. Unintelligible mumbling? Checkity check check.
A shower greatly improves my clarity. So, apparently, does being told by the Princess that Hammy the hamster is no longer inhabiting his habitat.
In fact, those words pretty much jumpstarted this zombie heart.
My first reply might have been, "You're joking." Then again, it might have been something slightly more sailor-ish. I couldn't tell you, cause my brain was left somewhere on my pillow whilst my body ran full tilt towards the habitat.
I saw the little den door. It was open. O-PEN. Open. Holy crap, it was open.
No sign of the little furry monster anywhere in his luxurious little two story, four bedroom Hamster Habitat. This was not good. My brain raced with all the possibilities. 1700 square feet of two-story, three bedroom People Habitat... where would a little hamster go? Why oh why are my kid's rooms such a mess? (And seriously? I ask that every day. Just that this morning it was a question completely transformed with new significance as I realized that "mess" equals "never, ever, ever find the hamster again".)
SHITE.
The family room was the cleanest and nearest locale and a quick search cleared it. No Hammy to be seen. I sent the Princess to her pigsty... errr... ROOM (I admit that I may have milked the "messy room/never find Hammy again" message a bit at this point. I am a cruel, cruel mother.) and I considered whether to turn my attentions downstairs or to the remaining bedrooms. I was just about to wake up the Kid in order to search his room when I heard Mr. F. call my name.
See, this whole drama was unknown to him, being in the shower while it unfolded. So, he was suitably surprised to open the shower door and meet the beady-eyed gaze of a certain rusty-colored hamster peeking around the bathroom door before waddling off back into our bedroom.
"UH, FLUTTERBY!? What is the hamster doing in our room?"
Which was actually incredibly good news to my ears. Hammy had been spotted. I cordoned off the room (which is to say, I closed the door...) and within seconds Hammy's fat little body was spotted trucking off into the corner. After a few snatch and grab attempts, I had the little spaz in my hands.
Hammy was not appreciative. All the Cool-Girl-Flutterby vibe was gone in an instant and he went a little berserker on me. Perhaps the term "Vibrating, Spinning, Clawing Tasmanian Hamster-devil" may be a close description. He even chattered squeaky little hamster-swears at me; which, had I not been trying to mitigate bodily harm, might have been a little bit cute. But all considerations of the word "cute" disappeared once he peed on my hand. (I know. So gross.) I managed to hold on to him long enough to deposit him unceremoniously back in his habitat and inform a tearful Princess that Hammy had been found.
All participants have been debriefed and the Kid is on some serious probation (being found guilty of leaving a particular den-door open after saying "goodnight" to the Rodent). Hammy is totally on lockdown. And I am having a hard time feeling the hamster love at this point.
On the other hand, the Princess has cleaned her room.
Maybe the Rodent can stay.
5 comments:
I would have been hysterical. The idea of a hamster free wheeling around the house, pooping every which way would have been too much. Glad he was found so quickly!
Escape drill #1 complete.
Reload for drill #2.
Wait for it .....
Room cleaned, just like that? Must be some intelligent creature you gots there!
Cocotte -- I don't even want to think of how long he was roaming... it's entirely possible he was out all night. Although I haven't seen any "evidence", yet. :)
Xavier -- Oh no no no no... there will be no drill #2!
I am actually quite impressed that the end result of this was a live rodent, restored to his rightful proper place in the Universe.
Not that we've ever discovered dessicated gerbil carcasses hiding in corners of our house, six months later, or anything like that. . .
As you know my hubby had hamsters, and one set of them went missing, no they didn't eat themselves-that was another set of hamsters that he had. Anyway some of them went missing and ended up in the walls of the house. Don't ask me how it happened, but as you can guess they were never recovered. GLad you had a happier ending.
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