Tag Archives: pets

There should be a weight limit to determine who gets to be on the Christmas card


Last week, we finally got around to celebrating my girl’s birthday … which was in May. Don’t judge. We all have busy lives, right? Anyway, we had a roller skating party for a bunch of her little girlfriends. And I LOVE how important it still is for her to say “Mama, come skate with us!” I DON’T love that my butt still hurts from the two spills I took at the party. (The first was a shoelace malfunction so I chalk only the second up to genetic spazzery.)

Anyway … my point is that we’ll pretty much do anything for our kids. Right? Of course, right. Which is the perfect lead in to today’s post. Remember that hamster my girl’s been angling for since last Spring? The one she swore she could keep Milo from ingesting?

Yeah, THAT one.

Well, a mother can only take so much begging. I guess I kept thinking about the cats … and dogs … and birds … and gerbils … and newts … and fish … and whatever else we managed to coerce MY parents into getting for us as kids. And I broke down. As always, Dave was there long before I was. But he had a pet nutria as a kid, for freak’s sake.

So, with my boy sleeping out the night of the party, it was just Dave, my girl and me. And naturally, I thought “What better way to pass the evening than to bring a rodent intentionally into the house?”

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Three pet store visits and $50 later … and we had him.

We must have seen at least 30 hamsters that night but my girl honed in on hers immediately. She liked him because he was the runt and he was all wet because he kept spastically falling into his own water bowl. (Sigh.) Do we really need another clumsy little freak around here?

So, anyway, without further ado, please allow me to present the latest member of our family …

  • the one Milo is most excited about …
  • he poops in your hand but not in your … (Bet I could turn that into the world’s grossest M&M slogan)
  • your hamster … and mine

Herve!

(Pause for applause. or laughter. your call)
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Are you thinking of Fantasy Island, too? Because I just can’t shake it.

I just know this little varmint is going to provide me with miles and miles of blog fodder. So, thanks in advance, Herve. I realize you might actually be a female but my girl said your name would still work because it’s “HER-ve.” … What’s that? Please just shut up and go with it. You’re a hamster. What do YOU care?” … (cough, sputter) I mean, uh … Welcome …

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… and please don’t kill me.

(Sigh)

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read to be read at yeahwrite.me

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Today’s word is Chagrin … oh, and I’m talking about hamsters


cha·grin (sh-grn)

n. A keen feeling of mental unease, as of annoyance or embarrassment, caused by failure, disappointment, or a disconcerting event

As in … Much to the chagrin of our family cat, my girl is hell bent on bringing a hamster into our household.

Okay, whatever. Milo would probably be positively giddy about this delicious new member of the family, even though I don’t think his fat ass is cat enough to catch a cold … or a drift … or innuendo. (Fine, I’ll stop.)

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Either he’s drunk or I rest my case

Anyway … my girl’s been bellyaching about adding a rodent to the mix for years. We (meaning she) have entertained the idea of ferrets, guinea pigs, gerbils, field mice (also known as Snake Chow) and now, finally, dwarf hamsters. And, after pussyfooting around with starter pets like goldfish, tadpoles and hermit crabs, I purposefully jumped ahead to cat, hoping to skip the intermediate vermin level.

No such luck.

Her birthday just passed which, I’m ashamed to admit, we haven’t really celebrated yet. I mean, we did have cake and a few small gifts but her party (likely of the roller skating variety) won’t happen until later this summer. At that time, she is planning to ask if she can “hamsterize” her room. (Feel free to use that verb liberally. It’s mine. Let’s see how long it takes ‘til we get it in the dictionary … or at least on Modern Family.)

She keeps reminding me that the hamster is “only $10.”

  • “I’ll pay for it myself! “ she offers.
  • “I’ll keep it clean so the cage won’t stink!” she promises.
  • “And I’ll guarantee that Milo doesn’t eat it!” she pleads.

Aww, that’s not how the world works, sweetheart. You can’t make that last promise. And, frankly, neither can Milo. Trust me. He’s got plans. BIG plans, my dear.

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But we promised we would consider it.

So, we’ve both been Googling rodents (relax, it’s more humane than it sounds) to determine things like (1) which ones suck the least as pets? (2) which are least likely to bite off your fingertips? and (3) which are the best escape artists and, subsequently, the best wall and wire chewers? Thus far, Dave has found some truly useful and interesting information. He’s actually helping my child and family with this decision.

I, on the other hand, have proven to be completely useless. Here’s where I wound up by mistake last night:

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It’s from Craig’s List and it’s 100% real, but the phone number was deleted for the sake of the writer. After reading it … during my girl’s play rehearsal in a CHURCH, mind you … I fell over laughing and completely lost my train of thought for “real” hamster research.

Will we or won’t we?

Only time …and my love for cedar shavings …will tell.

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read to be read at yeahwrite.me