Hamster One, Hamster Two
Content
1 Hamster One, Hamster Two Growing up, we always had pets at the house. Our Cairn Terrier Sammy maintained the only steady presence while other animals came and left. I don’t mean that they would visit our home, drink some tea, and engage in a friendly game of Pictionary. Instead, animals came to our house to die. Most of these soon-to-be-departed pets were hamsters and my older sister Judith and I became experts in the hamster culture. We even had routines for looking for runaway hamsters. Search under the sofa first, then the sofa cushions, check the kitchen pantry, and be sure that Sammy’s mouth was clean and in a known location. Judith and I knew what resources our hamsters needed and how to get them. We went through cage after cage and held a conviction that every new hamster deserved their own exercise ball. We even recycled every toilet paper roll for eight years. You’re welcome, Earth. My sister and I could spot hamster droppings from a mile away and knew which brand of hamster wheel would not squeak in the middle of the night. The only issue with all of this budding experience was that we developed a craving for more hamsters. When a hamster died, there would be time to grieve. But that deep emotional groaning grief was cured mere hours later by the dead hamster’s replacement. One morning, Judith woke up and found her hamster dead on the floor of its cage. There was crying, cleaning out the cage, and the quick disposal of the corpse in the trash can. By early afternoon, we were in the pet store. Judith purchased a new hamster and fresh supplies to welcome the pet home. She set up the cage, wheel, water bottle, food bowl, and knew the hamster was settled in. Judith gathered the trash and cleaned up at the proud finality of her nesting. A couple of minutes later, she arrived in the living room, her hands cupped together. “I swear I didn’t know,” she said, “I didn’t know, I promise.” Judith opened up her hands to reveal the unexpected -- a resurrected hamster. We all saw the hamster dead that morning and now the critter sat happily in my sister’s grasp. My parents placed a new family rule. No replacement pets until at least a week after its supposed demise. We tried gerbils but it only made things worse. On my birthday, I received a gerbil and I considered it the complementary gift of responsibility. I soon learned that gifts can quickly be taken away. The gerbil died just hours after arriving home. My family promptly returned to the pet store and I owned my second gerbil before I had even blown out the candles on my birthday cake. Gerbil number two didn’t live much longer than gerbil two and so we stuck with hamsters.
2 Our parents dished out the cash every time a replacement pet was needed. It was quickly becoming expensive to buy new hamsters and equipment every six months (or sometimes twice a day). They did their research and discovered the economic Russian hamsters. Two Russian hamsters could share one cage, one food bowl, and one bed. My parents jumped on this solution and Judith and I followed through. Soon we welcomed two Russian hamsters named Mario and Luigi. Mario belonged to Judith and Luigi belonged to me. I’m not sure how we made the connection between Russians and two Italian techno-plumbers. I’ve narrowed it down to either communism, an intimidating accent, or a national economy dependent on mafia activity. Mario and Luigi lived for over a year. This was considered a long lifespan for our pets and therefore, a success. My parents celebrated relief in solving the costly hamster dilemma--nothing but Russian hamsters from now on! There was one issue with admiring the hamsters. Mario and Luigi enjoyed nesting together in the recycled toilet rolls but we couldn’t see them. Judith and I solved this observational hazard by purchasing a clear tunnel for them. Now we could see that Mario and Luigi were close nurturing brothers. Everything was working smoothly until every aspect of the Mario and Luigi success eventually backfired when I saw Luigi lying in the tube, sliced open with his guts visible to my child viewpoint. Mario squatted at the food bowl eating with a smirk of achievement. The mafia was still alive. Unfortunately, this was not the first time one of Judith’s pets had killed one of mine. We even tried rabbits at one point. Judith’s was black and white and named Blaze. My rabbit was smaller and gray named Roger. We bought the rabbits while on a family vacation. My Dad learned early on that he could never stop us from buying new pets and this vacation proved how much he had given in. Most people purchased fridge magnets and snow globes for souvenirs. We bought two rabbits. Our family first started to notice the trouble when Blaze wasn’t allowing Roger to access the food bowl. Blaze grew fatter and fatter while Roger became smaller and smaller. We tried giving Roger his own food bowl but Blaze took control of that too. Blaze became victorious and she slowly starved Roger to death. After the Mario and Luigi fiasco, our family returned to square one. Russian hamsters would never return as I would never allow any pet of mine near any animal entrusted to my sister. Mario eventually died a peaceful and unsliced death and Judith and I sought replacements. I bought a brown and white female named Hazel. She was spoiled rotten. Her cage was a three-level mansion plus I gave her excessive time exploring with her exercise ball. My sister got a white longhaired hamster and she named him in honor of the cross-dressing teletubby, Tinky Winky.
3 The lives of Hazel and Tinky Winky were going very well--meaning they met the minimum requirements of success in living longer than a month and never killing each other. They rarely went missing in the house, they never bit when handled, and they both lived healthy lives. Judith and I realized that we had fine specimens of the hamster race and that we needed to take advantage of this opportunity. We read through our hamster book and encountered the chapter titled “Breeding your Hamsters.” We took both hamsters, their cages, and the book into the spare bedroom. Step one: Welcome the male hamster into the female hamster’s cage. We opened the door to Hazel’s three-level mansion. Hazel was known for her reluctance to step outside of her home which only enraptured Tinky Winky even more. He walked to the door of the cage with an arrogant swagger, stinking of sawdust as if it was his cheap cologne. Hazel made no effort to stop the stranger. Step two: Make sure the hamsters get along and do not fight. Tinky Winky welcomed himself into Hazel’s sleeping quarters. Hazel couldn’t help but have intrigue for the strange creature who acted so forward and honest. She followed him as if his determination seduced her to submission. Step three: Leave the two hamsters alone in a dark room. Do not disturb for at least twenty minutes. Judith and I left the two hamsters immediately. There was no mood lighting, James Taylor record, or the assistance of lubricant. We just hoped twenty minutes really was enough time. We were just two young children holding on to a dream that Tinky Winky would hump Hazel until she was knocked up. We didn’t sit on the other side of the door listening for squeaks, moans, or groans. My sister and I suddenly realized the impulsiveness of our decision and decided that we better ask our parents for permission to breed our hamsters. During the twenty minutes, we managed to get our parents to concede to a “We’ll think about it” status. When Judith and I returned to check on the honeymooners, Hazel was on the third floor eating food while Tinky Winky explored the sawdust in the cage’s basement. They did not look guilty, excited, or even remorseful of one another. I’m not sure what we were expecting to see but it would have been reassuring if at least one of them lay down smoking a cigarette as a sign that there was some amount of arousal and release.
4 A week later, we realized that a lot more happened in that twenty minutes than we originally suspected. Hazel was quickly gaining weight and we began to realize that she was indeed pregnant. There was no hope in hiding it from Mom and Dad. “Mom. Dad. We need to tell you something.” “What’s going on? What did you do?” “Please don’t get mad at us.” “Tell us what’s wrong.” “Nothing is wrong. It’s just that sometimes things happen sooner than we expect. We promise to take full responsibility.” “What’s happened? What have you done?” “Hazel’s pregnant.” “What?” “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. It was that one night we asked you about breeding her and we got carried away.” “She’s pregnant?” “I’m so sorry. “I just never knew you were the type of children to turn Hazel to promiscuity.” Our parents did support us. They helped buy new cages for when the babies arrived and helped us research. We tracked Hazel’s progress daily and tried to guess by the number of bumps how many hamsters were going to be in the litter. Our book told us that an average litter had about four to eight. We could only count about five lumps. Hazel’s cage remained in the spare bedroom so that she would not get stressed during the pregnancy. One morning, Judith came to my room and woke me up. “Hazel had the babies!” I rushed to Hazel’s cage. She was resting in her bed on top of her litter. We bribed her with food to get her to step away so that we could see what she had delivered. There were several miniature pink, hairless babies. They were blind, squealing, and the perfect blend of extremely cute and very ugly. While we expected Hazel to have a small litter, we were mistaken. Hazel scored above the average with a total of ten. The hamsters grew up and it was a healthy litter. There were no runts and all ten survived. Hazel proved herself to be a great mother and didn’t mind the human attention. The litter contained six females and four males. We kept two of the females--a Hazel lookalike named Lucy and a black and white one named Domino. The rest were sold to friends and the pet store.
5 Judith and I loved the money. We never knew breeding hamsters could be so profitable. This was a business gold mine. We imagined being world famous hamster breeders appearing on TV shows to give hamster advice. We would travel to Hollywood to train hamsters to appear in feature films. All we had to do was get Julia Roberts to agree to have a photoshoot with one of them. Our future was bright and promising. Plans for Domino and Lucy to continue the family line were already starting. Hazel never had another litter. She was a great mother but a healthy litter of ten was enough honor. Perhaps she wanted to be a mother again. Perhaps she wondered what happened to her litter and why they abandoned her. Nobody knew exactly what was wrong but the pressure became too much and Hazel took her life into her own hands and jumped from the third floor of her mansion. The family watched as she lay on the bottom of her cage unable to move and gasping for air. She died about an hour later. Domino never had the opportunity to have a litter. She escaped her cage and we began our usual search routine. Check the sofa, check the kitchen, interrogate the dog. There was no sign of Domino and we knew that she was gone for good. A few months later, my sister went to the shed in the back garden to fetch her rollerblades. Inside one of the rollerblades, Judith found the corpse of Domino. We gave Domino the long-awaited burial while Judith swore to a life commitment of skating celibacy. Meanwhile, my sister bought a male hamster to fill Domino’s void and to assist Lucy with the baby-making. Judith soon began her Lucy enterprise. The first time she tried to get Lucy pregnant, it wasn’t successful. No bumps showed on Lucy’s stomach and she didn’t get fatter. Lucy did get pregnant on the second attempt and gave birth to a litter of six. We were all very excited about this second litter. Hazel, may she rest in peace, was a grandmother. Judith was particularly excited about the potential cash flow. Since she owned both father and mother, there would be no need to share the financial success with her younger brother. It was New Year’s Day and the litter was just days old. We spent a late evening as a family watching “Forrest Gump.” The movie ended around midnight and we all went to our respected bedrooms. Suddenly, we heard a loud and piercing scream come from Judith’s bedroom. We all ran to see what terror was going on. Judith stood frozen as tears streamed down her face. “Lucy ate a baby! I don’t know why!” Lucy decided that she was finished with motherhood. She gobbled up one of the babies right in front of Judith. Lucy had also managed to open the cage door and throw the rest of the litter out.
6 She apparently determined that the babies were now ready to grow up on their own. They disagreed as they cried and lay helpless and scattered across the carpet. My mother found a small box and put some cotton wool inside so we could gather the babies and try to save them. However, they sucked on the cotton wool as if it was their mother providing milk and they choked to death. One hamster remained alive. My mother was on the phone with the emergency vet who said that the only chance for this baby’s survival was to return it to Lucy and hope she would take care of it. Lucy was not ready. She swallowed her child instantly. After the tragedy, there no more plans to breed hamsters. Living with Lucy became especially difficult. We looked at her as an insane and maniacal being. She was most certainly possessed and we saw the evil hidden beneath those cute beady eyes. Our family knew better and we kept our distance. When Lucy passed away, there were no more hamsters. There hasn’t been a hamster in the house for over a decade. We stuck to dogs, fish, a cat, and even one more rabbit. We have accepted a family curse that whenever we see “Forrest Gump” we think of a genocide of little pink hamsters left for dead on my sister’s bedroom floor.
2 Our parents dished out the cash every time a replacement pet was needed. It was quickly becoming expensive to buy new hamsters and equipment every six months (or sometimes twice a day). They did their research and discovered the economic Russian hamsters. Two Russian hamsters could share one cage, one food bowl, and one bed. My parents jumped on this solution and Judith and I followed through. Soon we welcomed two Russian hamsters named Mario and Luigi. Mario belonged to Judith and Luigi belonged to me. I’m not sure how we made the connection between Russians and two Italian techno-plumbers. I’ve narrowed it down to either communism, an intimidating accent, or a national economy dependent on mafia activity. Mario and Luigi lived for over a year. This was considered a long lifespan for our pets and therefore, a success. My parents celebrated relief in solving the costly hamster dilemma--nothing but Russian hamsters from now on! There was one issue with admiring the hamsters. Mario and Luigi enjoyed nesting together in the recycled toilet rolls but we couldn’t see them. Judith and I solved this observational hazard by purchasing a clear tunnel for them. Now we could see that Mario and Luigi were close nurturing brothers. Everything was working smoothly until every aspect of the Mario and Luigi success eventually backfired when I saw Luigi lying in the tube, sliced open with his guts visible to my child viewpoint. Mario squatted at the food bowl eating with a smirk of achievement. The mafia was still alive. Unfortunately, this was not the first time one of Judith’s pets had killed one of mine. We even tried rabbits at one point. Judith’s was black and white and named Blaze. My rabbit was smaller and gray named Roger. We bought the rabbits while on a family vacation. My Dad learned early on that he could never stop us from buying new pets and this vacation proved how much he had given in. Most people purchased fridge magnets and snow globes for souvenirs. We bought two rabbits. Our family first started to notice the trouble when Blaze wasn’t allowing Roger to access the food bowl. Blaze grew fatter and fatter while Roger became smaller and smaller. We tried giving Roger his own food bowl but Blaze took control of that too. Blaze became victorious and she slowly starved Roger to death. After the Mario and Luigi fiasco, our family returned to square one. Russian hamsters would never return as I would never allow any pet of mine near any animal entrusted to my sister. Mario eventually died a peaceful and unsliced death and Judith and I sought replacements. I bought a brown and white female named Hazel. She was spoiled rotten. Her cage was a three-level mansion plus I gave her excessive time exploring with her exercise ball. My sister got a white longhaired hamster and she named him in honor of the cross-dressing teletubby, Tinky Winky.
3 The lives of Hazel and Tinky Winky were going very well--meaning they met the minimum requirements of success in living longer than a month and never killing each other. They rarely went missing in the house, they never bit when handled, and they both lived healthy lives. Judith and I realized that we had fine specimens of the hamster race and that we needed to take advantage of this opportunity. We read through our hamster book and encountered the chapter titled “Breeding your Hamsters.” We took both hamsters, their cages, and the book into the spare bedroom. Step one: Welcome the male hamster into the female hamster’s cage. We opened the door to Hazel’s three-level mansion. Hazel was known for her reluctance to step outside of her home which only enraptured Tinky Winky even more. He walked to the door of the cage with an arrogant swagger, stinking of sawdust as if it was his cheap cologne. Hazel made no effort to stop the stranger. Step two: Make sure the hamsters get along and do not fight. Tinky Winky welcomed himself into Hazel’s sleeping quarters. Hazel couldn’t help but have intrigue for the strange creature who acted so forward and honest. She followed him as if his determination seduced her to submission. Step three: Leave the two hamsters alone in a dark room. Do not disturb for at least twenty minutes. Judith and I left the two hamsters immediately. There was no mood lighting, James Taylor record, or the assistance of lubricant. We just hoped twenty minutes really was enough time. We were just two young children holding on to a dream that Tinky Winky would hump Hazel until she was knocked up. We didn’t sit on the other side of the door listening for squeaks, moans, or groans. My sister and I suddenly realized the impulsiveness of our decision and decided that we better ask our parents for permission to breed our hamsters. During the twenty minutes, we managed to get our parents to concede to a “We’ll think about it” status. When Judith and I returned to check on the honeymooners, Hazel was on the third floor eating food while Tinky Winky explored the sawdust in the cage’s basement. They did not look guilty, excited, or even remorseful of one another. I’m not sure what we were expecting to see but it would have been reassuring if at least one of them lay down smoking a cigarette as a sign that there was some amount of arousal and release.
4 A week later, we realized that a lot more happened in that twenty minutes than we originally suspected. Hazel was quickly gaining weight and we began to realize that she was indeed pregnant. There was no hope in hiding it from Mom and Dad. “Mom. Dad. We need to tell you something.” “What’s going on? What did you do?” “Please don’t get mad at us.” “Tell us what’s wrong.” “Nothing is wrong. It’s just that sometimes things happen sooner than we expect. We promise to take full responsibility.” “What’s happened? What have you done?” “Hazel’s pregnant.” “What?” “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. It was that one night we asked you about breeding her and we got carried away.” “She’s pregnant?” “I’m so sorry. “I just never knew you were the type of children to turn Hazel to promiscuity.” Our parents did support us. They helped buy new cages for when the babies arrived and helped us research. We tracked Hazel’s progress daily and tried to guess by the number of bumps how many hamsters were going to be in the litter. Our book told us that an average litter had about four to eight. We could only count about five lumps. Hazel’s cage remained in the spare bedroom so that she would not get stressed during the pregnancy. One morning, Judith came to my room and woke me up. “Hazel had the babies!” I rushed to Hazel’s cage. She was resting in her bed on top of her litter. We bribed her with food to get her to step away so that we could see what she had delivered. There were several miniature pink, hairless babies. They were blind, squealing, and the perfect blend of extremely cute and very ugly. While we expected Hazel to have a small litter, we were mistaken. Hazel scored above the average with a total of ten. The hamsters grew up and it was a healthy litter. There were no runts and all ten survived. Hazel proved herself to be a great mother and didn’t mind the human attention. The litter contained six females and four males. We kept two of the females--a Hazel lookalike named Lucy and a black and white one named Domino. The rest were sold to friends and the pet store.
5 Judith and I loved the money. We never knew breeding hamsters could be so profitable. This was a business gold mine. We imagined being world famous hamster breeders appearing on TV shows to give hamster advice. We would travel to Hollywood to train hamsters to appear in feature films. All we had to do was get Julia Roberts to agree to have a photoshoot with one of them. Our future was bright and promising. Plans for Domino and Lucy to continue the family line were already starting. Hazel never had another litter. She was a great mother but a healthy litter of ten was enough honor. Perhaps she wanted to be a mother again. Perhaps she wondered what happened to her litter and why they abandoned her. Nobody knew exactly what was wrong but the pressure became too much and Hazel took her life into her own hands and jumped from the third floor of her mansion. The family watched as she lay on the bottom of her cage unable to move and gasping for air. She died about an hour later. Domino never had the opportunity to have a litter. She escaped her cage and we began our usual search routine. Check the sofa, check the kitchen, interrogate the dog. There was no sign of Domino and we knew that she was gone for good. A few months later, my sister went to the shed in the back garden to fetch her rollerblades. Inside one of the rollerblades, Judith found the corpse of Domino. We gave Domino the long-awaited burial while Judith swore to a life commitment of skating celibacy. Meanwhile, my sister bought a male hamster to fill Domino’s void and to assist Lucy with the baby-making. Judith soon began her Lucy enterprise. The first time she tried to get Lucy pregnant, it wasn’t successful. No bumps showed on Lucy’s stomach and she didn’t get fatter. Lucy did get pregnant on the second attempt and gave birth to a litter of six. We were all very excited about this second litter. Hazel, may she rest in peace, was a grandmother. Judith was particularly excited about the potential cash flow. Since she owned both father and mother, there would be no need to share the financial success with her younger brother. It was New Year’s Day and the litter was just days old. We spent a late evening as a family watching “Forrest Gump.” The movie ended around midnight and we all went to our respected bedrooms. Suddenly, we heard a loud and piercing scream come from Judith’s bedroom. We all ran to see what terror was going on. Judith stood frozen as tears streamed down her face. “Lucy ate a baby! I don’t know why!” Lucy decided that she was finished with motherhood. She gobbled up one of the babies right in front of Judith. Lucy had also managed to open the cage door and throw the rest of the litter out.
6 She apparently determined that the babies were now ready to grow up on their own. They disagreed as they cried and lay helpless and scattered across the carpet. My mother found a small box and put some cotton wool inside so we could gather the babies and try to save them. However, they sucked on the cotton wool as if it was their mother providing milk and they choked to death. One hamster remained alive. My mother was on the phone with the emergency vet who said that the only chance for this baby’s survival was to return it to Lucy and hope she would take care of it. Lucy was not ready. She swallowed her child instantly. After the tragedy, there no more plans to breed hamsters. Living with Lucy became especially difficult. We looked at her as an insane and maniacal being. She was most certainly possessed and we saw the evil hidden beneath those cute beady eyes. Our family knew better and we kept our distance. When Lucy passed away, there were no more hamsters. There hasn’t been a hamster in the house for over a decade. We stuck to dogs, fish, a cat, and even one more rabbit. We have accepted a family curse that whenever we see “Forrest Gump” we think of a genocide of little pink hamsters left for dead on my sister’s bedroom floor.
