What sucks is he was only six months old.
Being a grown man (says so on my drivers license) losing a hamster should be no big deal. But it seems, it’s getting to me more than I realized.
See, it started out that my boys’ cousin’s hamster was about to have babies and she offered each boy a baby.
Their mother said it was up to me being she didn’t want "a rat in her house".
Of course I said ok.
Turned out that only one hamster was to be had by both boys, which was ok with Austin.
So even though he was supposed to be the boys’ pet, Dad ended up caring for Squeak.
It was rather enjoyable tending to him (I hadn’t had a pet since I was a child).
I fed him, cleaned his cage, and ’entertained’ him.
And it was nice coming downstairs in the morning, to be greeting by Squeak waiting for his morning food.
And over a short period of time, I found myself wishing him a "good morning", or telling him "see you at lunch time" and even saying "night Squeak" on a nightly basis.
Tonight was the first night in six months I’d not been able to wish him a good night, and it kinda bummed me out a little.
I’ll miss ya little buddy.
1 comment:
I still remember when Erin's first gerbil died... she was devastated. I ended telling her to decorate a shoe box like a coffin and burying the thing in the back yard. The second was buried by the first, with significantly less fanfare. The third was tossed into the flood plain behind my yard.
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