You guys remember Herve, right?

Well, the poor little guy was not feeling well recently. And even though he is a hamster … and even though he is now two years old (which is, like, 65 in people years … or something like that) … we brought him to the exotic vet. No, I don’t actually have an exotic vet. This guy was referred to us by our regular vet. (Milo‘s doctor.) And he was the bomb. Wanna hear about our experience? Well, why the heck else would you be here?

(Storytelling style stolen borrowed from beloved children’s author Laura Numeroff.  And my friend, Mel.

If you take a hamster to the exotic vet, you’ll probably meet a friendly squirrel.

If you meet a friendly squirrel, you’ll learn that he has his own Facebook page.

If you take a seat in the waiting room to look up the squirrel’s Facebook page, you’ll suddenly notice that you’re sitting right next to wiggling blanket that scares the crap out of you because you have no idea what’s under that blanket.

If you investigate the wiggling blanket because you’re concerned that a rabid badger might be under it poised and ready to kill you, you’ll discover that it’s actually just a spazzy chinchilla whose owner is not very friendly.

If you discover that your neighbor is just a spazzy chinchilla, you’ll realize that there is not a “normal” pet in the room.

If you notice that there are no normal pets in the room, you’ll want to take an inventory of the bizarreness.

If you take an inventory the bizarreness, you will find one social networking squirrel, one spazzy chinchilla, one stoic rabbit, one ailing ferret, one obnoxiously-egocentric bird, one suspicious-looking lizard and one unidentified, midsize, introverted rodent and you will start to feel less weird about sitting in the exotic veterinarian’s office with your daughter waiting for your hamster.

If you start to feel less weird, you will actually learn to embrace the eccentricity and decide it’s worth sharing on your blog.

If you decide to share the experience on your blog, you will start taking notes on your phone (which is probably a good idea because it will distract you from the murderous chinchilla/badger beside you).

If you start taking notes on your phone, the vet’s assistant will come out and tell you that Herve the teddy bear hamster has had a full battery of tests and everything looks A-OK.

If the vet’s assistant mentions “a full battery of tests” for a hamster, you will probably picture him running on a treadmill with those sticky electrode thingies all over his tiny body and the doctor telling him to turn his head and cough and you will fight the urge to crack up laughing in the assistant’s face.

If you fight the urge to crack up laughing, your face will contort into a weird expression that probably makes you look constipated but results in the assistant thinking you’re a complete idiot and speaking more slowly to help you understand her.

If the assistant thinks you’re an idiot and asks if you understand, you will probably just nod yes because, well, you know she’s not so far off the mark on this assumption.

Bet y’all didn’t believe me about the squirrel.