I wrote this yesterday:
My two-year-old dwarf hamster, Smalls, died. I think he got too cold. Or maybe two years is his life expectancy. I have no idea. All I know is that I fed him and gave him water and tried not to hate the boring little sucker too much, and then yesterday amidst my running around between work and errands and life, it suddenly occurred to me that his food bowl, which usually remains empty, not because I don't feed him but because he eats his food the second it hits his bowl, was the same level it had been for days, and his water too. Suddenly I'm driving down the road about to pick up a sofa I purchased off Craigslist with my borrowed SUV and I have this thought: My Hamster Has Died.
I got home, moved the couch in, made some dinner, it was late and I was hungry, had a beer, it was late and I had been working all day, and then... I couldn't stall anymore. I took off his lid and yelled and rattled his food bowl. The little bugger always comes out when I call to him.
He didn't come out.
I found him curled up in a tight little ball in the corner under his bedding. The poor little thing just curled up and died. I feel like a terrible hamster mother. I didn't even much like him, because he's a poor replacement for the dogs in my life I've had to let go as relationships come and go, he just eats and smells funny and bites me. I usually called him whatever random name that came to mind and occasionally I would reach in and pet his back while he was eating and too preoccupied to pull away and turn his sharp little choppers on me.
But when I found him curled up there I cried. OK? I cried for my dumb little hamster and my apparent inability to keep even a dumb little hamster alive.
My sweetest ever boyfriend held me and didn't make fun of me even once. He said it was OK to feel sad because it was my pet and a life and I was taking care of him. He said he probably died of old age. Or coldness. But that it wasn't my fault.
You know, the sweet things good boyfriends say when their girlfriends are sad.
He also said we'll give Hammy a proper burial in the redwoods.
I feel so sad, relieved, guilty, and curious. I just hope he didn't suffer too much. I hope it was his time to go, that he died of old age, and that he was remotely happy in his short meaningless little life.
RIP, Smalls, April 2006-January 2008. I will miss you when I think of you. You didn't even eat all your gourmet hamster food I bought you, you little punk. I'm glad I didn't let Mike feed you to the owl that lives in the barn by our house.
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4 comments:
I read online that the average life expectancy of a hamster is about 2-3 years so I think Smalls died of old age. This is absolute worst part of having pets-- the whole "'tis better to have loved and lost" thing. I cried buckets when my fish died and we weren't even particularly close.
Thanks, Laurie, you really made me laugh with your comment about your fish. Not the dying part, the "not close" part.
I was sad when my fish died too. But, in my defense, my fish wasn't in my possession when it died. I had given it over to family for safekeeping rather than drive 2000 miles with it. It died after I got to California. So, I wans't that close to my fish either.
Are you in Madison yet? Living in a haunted house in Lodi? I hear it's very cold there...
I'm arriving on Sunday and I'm not quite sure where I'll be living. Graham and Erin have graciously invited me to stay with them (ok, actually I asked them and they said yes) for a few bit while I job- and apartment-search.
I am wholly unprepared for the frozen tundra that is Wisconsin. I've only been gone for seven months and I was living in New York which isn't much better but I've heard that this the worst winter they've/we've had in awhile and I am literally terrified that I will die of coldness.
Just spend as much time as possible in warm places (like ye ol' favorite coffee houses) and do your job and apartment research from there; you'll be fine!
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