When we lived in Moscow, many a neighbor would try to pawn off a beloved family pet upon their departure. These included hamsters, turtles, fish, and cats (mostly). Because we already had a family pet, a Russian cat named Koshka, which means simply cat, we declined every time. We brought her with us to DC because she is toilet trained (no seriously, the toilet) and I like her company. I wistfully promised my children, "When we live in America, I will get you hamsters."
I keep my promises.
A few weeks ago, after the shipment was sorted and we had obtained beds for everyone, we went to a big-box pet store to purchase three hamsters for children 2, 3, and 4. They were required to pay for the food and cages and I would supply funding for the actual pet, a meager $12.99 each. When asking child 1 if she wanted one, she was astute in her reply. "They will do all the work, pay for the cages, and I will get to play with the pets whenever I want." Well played Number 1, well played.
I required that each of my kids sign a contract to secure their responsibility. Shortly after the divine furry rodents were home, Number 3 made a rainbow painted, popsicle stick house for her little pet. I reminded her that item six in the contract required keeping the pet safe. She nodded her head and agreed with all seriousness. That evening, we discovered that the popsicle stick house had been attached to the cage as an annex for her wandering furball, called Fluffy. Our theory is that the furball wandered directly into the mouth of our hungry, foreign cat, never to be seen again.
I made her wait a few days just to drive the point home. Four days later,we purchased a replacement, called Shadow. He is a Russian breed and the cat seemed to leave him alone. Perhaps they have made a treaty because of their homelands.
Child Number 2 was very careful about not losing his hamster. One morning, Spike wandered out of an open top (!!!) and again, into the jaws of the predator. Koshka is very tidy about clean-up, as well as licking her chops. At this point, I said there would be no more.
Child Number 3 was arrogantly parading her hamster while warning that her little sister, Number 4, had better watch out because her hamster, Mento, would be next. That.very.minute...screams erupted from the girls room as witnesses watched Koshka devour yet another victim. This time, blood and crunching proving her guilt.
So Shadow was still alive. For two weeks he was the family pet. My kind, gracious husband had not reminded me that he thought this was a bad idea from the start. I voluntarily admitted my error.
Then my sister came to visit. She was helping me distribute things in our crowded apartment and reminding me that each thing must have it's proper purpose and place. We discovered a box in a closet filled with extra hamster cages and balls. She convinced me, as a way to solidify her impression as a favored Aunt, to purchase two more. I gave in.
We went to a different pet store, so they wouldn't recognize me, and purchased two more, Spot and Caramel. Their cages were attached and apparently the cat broke down the tube between the two and ate Spot. I replaced that one the next day with Lucky, the 7th and final hamster.
It saddens me as well as causes me to break out into peals of uncontrolled laughter, to inform you that Lucky is missing in action and the cat didn't eat her breakfast. I suppose conclusions can be made.
Shadow, the Russian, still remains. Caramel sleeps in the upper tubes where a cat can't reach. Maybe they are the smart ones. Maybe they will survive. One thing is sure, hamsters are not cheap, in multiple purchases. I did my part. My kids know I am not a liar. I do think that I may be an idiot though.
ADDENDUM: Shadow, the Russian, died unexpectedly during a family vacation in July. Though his body has not been located, the authorities have a pretty good idea where he went. He was replaced by Avila, another Russian.
