One July, when I was a just a pup of a human, my Daddy, in his blue 'hippie' cargo van, and I were on our way to my cousin's (Willy Jr) 1'st birthday party. We stopped at the mall to get him a gift and this is where I met, hamster, aka, feral bastard. There, in a pet store, with flowing locks of blonde hair, shiny black eyes and big ol, stuffed to the brim of dried corn pellets, cheeks. My jaw clenched so tight and my heart nearly burst because it was the most precious thing alive and I was in love. Perhaps hamster was just chewing it's spit moistened pellet food but I prefer to think that it mouthed "i love you, take me home". "I'm totally allowed to have pets at home" I lied. (my Grandparents raised me and they never allowed any animals except for my dog and a deformed goldfish that outlived the other 89 that I once caught in the community pool)
Back in the van, I sat so proudly knowing my 'life partner' was in this colorful cardboard box. I was so sure that hamster couldn't wait to kiss & love all over me for saving it so I poked my finger in an air hole and wiggled it, as to say "you're welcome, come kiss my finger". My new precious hamster didn’t quite understand my 1 finger, sign language and sunk his long choppers right in my finger. OOOoowww! but I knew hamster was just confused, it thought I was showering him with “welcome home” chew toys.
Once we arrived to the party, I couldn't wait to carry it around and show it off. I opened up the box, my lockjaw in place, (I have a tendency to clench my jaw shut really tight when I see extremely cute things. This is to refrain from biting them. I would never draw blood but I'm guessing I could bruise em.) I went in to retrieve the cutest animal in the world and this is when I watched it angrily pounce and sink it's chiseled ivories deep in my finger. I remember being so shocked this alluring beautiful creature just attacked me like a wild animal and it obviously hates me. I started screaming/crying in the front seat till my dad 'thwacked' me on my head to calm down. After I was attacked by hamster twice and my dad once, I knew I had a feral bastard of a hamster and a Dad who didnt like crybabies.
I now hate this ugly, fat, yellow thing, with stupid eyes. My Dad said "set up the cage, it cant stay in the box, it will chew a hole and get loose" Good thinking Daddy because it would probably eat the wires then disable the van and begin to gnaw on us till we were just bones. So in the back of the van, I just lined the cage with bedding. No water, No food, No chew toys too! I opened up the box, stood up, turned the box upside down and dumped the sadistic fur ball out. I secretly enjoyed watching it take a nose dive, screaming, it's silent hamster scream, "I'm gonna diiiiiie" then thump onto the soft cedar chip. It scurried around sniffing mulch in it's new glass prison called home.
A few hours later during the birthday party a bunch of us return to the van to check on hamster and to my horror, the deceiving hamster, was... dead. A few of us kids are screaming, some ran to get their parents. My Dad immediately began dunking hamster in his cup of beer. The hamster didn't respond. It didn't absorb the liquid like a sponge and regain life. My 1st hamster, roasted to death, in a blue 'hippie' cargo van under the July sun and it was all my fault since I didn't provide water. I had just unintentionally committed my first murder on a small, shaggy, potential murderer.
Back in the van, I sat so proudly knowing my 'life partner' was in this colorful cardboard box. I was so sure that hamster couldn't wait to kiss & love all over me for saving it so I poked my finger in an air hole and wiggled it, as to say "you're welcome, come kiss my finger". My new precious hamster didn’t quite understand my 1 finger, sign language and sunk his long choppers right in my finger. OOOoowww! but I knew hamster was just confused, it thought I was showering him with “welcome home” chew toys.
Once we arrived to the party, I couldn't wait to carry it around and show it off. I opened up the box, my lockjaw in place, (I have a tendency to clench my jaw shut really tight when I see extremely cute things. This is to refrain from biting them. I would never draw blood but I'm guessing I could bruise em.) I went in to retrieve the cutest animal in the world and this is when I watched it angrily pounce and sink it's chiseled ivories deep in my finger. I remember being so shocked this alluring beautiful creature just attacked me like a wild animal and it obviously hates me. I started screaming/crying in the front seat till my dad 'thwacked' me on my head to calm down. After I was attacked by hamster twice and my dad once, I knew I had a feral bastard of a hamster and a Dad who didnt like crybabies.
I now hate this ugly, fat, yellow thing, with stupid eyes. My Dad said "set up the cage, it cant stay in the box, it will chew a hole and get loose" Good thinking Daddy because it would probably eat the wires then disable the van and begin to gnaw on us till we were just bones. So in the back of the van, I just lined the cage with bedding. No water, No food, No chew toys too! I opened up the box, stood up, turned the box upside down and dumped the sadistic fur ball out. I secretly enjoyed watching it take a nose dive, screaming, it's silent hamster scream, "I'm gonna diiiiiie" then thump onto the soft cedar chip. It scurried around sniffing mulch in it's new glass prison called home.
A few hours later during the birthday party a bunch of us return to the van to check on hamster and to my horror, the deceiving hamster, was... dead. A few of us kids are screaming, some ran to get their parents. My Dad immediately began dunking hamster in his cup of beer. The hamster didn't respond. It didn't absorb the liquid like a sponge and regain life. My 1st hamster, roasted to death, in a blue 'hippie' cargo van under the July sun and it was all my fault since I didn't provide water. I had just unintentionally committed my first murder on a small, shaggy, potential murderer.
R.I.P. you feral bastard.
The next day, I thought my dad felt really bad for me and went and got me a new one because of how berserk the 1st one was to bite me and then die on me. Found out it was only because he already bought all the expensive shit, the fuzzy mammal only costs around 2 bucks. This one bites too! Dammit, another feral!!! I wasn't going to drop him like a bomb into the cage this time. Instead, I just pointed to the box and to the cage and commanded my father to do the deed. He then stood up and dumped the savage beast and it too screamed it's silent hamster scream.
For the next few days, I would open the lid and quickly fling it's food in the cage as gently as I could trying not to hit it. I always checked it's water and would press my face against the glass in case it couldn't see well to show it that it was ME who was caring for it. One day, I decided it was time to try and hold it again.I nervously scooped it up and was so elated that it didn't bite me! We spun and spun & we danced on air, I was suddenly Snow White and animals were my thing. With my teeth clenched tightly, I squeezed my newly trained and improved life partner in my hands, right next to my face and then it pooped in my hands. Eeeeeeeeww, what a dumb ass as I tossed hamster back into the cage.
From then on, every time I took it out of the cage it seemed to automatically start dropping it's droppings. Hamster stinks and I hated that the dumb ass kept exuding and crapping on me and I hated cleaning the cage even more. So I did what any other person would do. I would pick it up every so often and run to the bathroom, slam the door and hold Hamster over the toilet and wait. Of course, now it's never pooping... sigh. So, I remembered if I squeeze it till it's eyes kinda bulged, it would poop. I look at it like I invented cleansing for hamsters before cleansing was cool (this is back in the 80's) but in reality I guess I was just squeezing the shit out of it. All for love.
I had my clean coloned dumb ass Hamster for awhile before it finally died. It ran away and a mousetrap behind the fridge killed it.
R.I.P. you dumb ass
I'm recapping this true story as best as I can since I was only 7 or 8 years old but moral of the story is 28 years later, I still am sorry that I ever thought hamsters could be pets.