RIP Hamster

If you have been following this blog, or if you actually know me, you also know that the Son of Never Stops Eating loves hamsters.  This love affair with the little rodents started in second grade, when he met his inclusion teacher's hamster, Hercules, and continues to this day.  You may also know that the adorable little creatures can chew through plastic, escape without detection, hide in places you would never imagine, and destroy drywall at a rapid pace.

This week, the Household of No suffered a loss: Squeakers #4 passed on to the Great Hamster Wheel in the Sky. 

Owning a hamster brings up all kinds of issues that are never mentioned in the parenting manual you likely did not receive.  For example, what do you do when the hamster dies? The first time this happened to us, I was on my way with the two kids to visit Grandma and Grandpa when the Dad of No, who had stayed home, called to tell me that the hamster- that we'd owned two weeks- had passed on.

Just go get a new one, I told him, quietly.  We'll just not say anything and hope he doesn't notice.  It's a hamster, not a dog.  They all kind of look alike.

When we returned home, my son ran into his room to reconnect with his beloved rodent.  He immediately came back out and glared at us accusingly.

Son: This is NOT my hamster.
Us:   Of course it is! They change a lot as they get older.
Son: My hamster had black eyes! This hamster has RED eyes!

So we had to 'fess up.  I tell you this so that you can learn from my parenting error.  Do not try to substitute a new hamster for an old one when the old one dies.  It might work for goldfish, but it does not work for hamsters.

The second hamster died after a long life (for a hamster) and a short illness.  This crisis precipitated a debate between the Mom of No and the Dad of No on the subject of "Do you take a $7 hamster to the vet?".  Like other major parenting issues, like discipline, or religion, or at what age teenagers should be allowed to date, this is a question that should probably be settled in advance and not at the actual moment of crisis. On one hand, a hamster is an almost irresistibly adorable ball of fur and drywall-chewing teeth, and on the other hand, it's an easily replaceable rodent with a 2 year lifespan. 

The third hamster's passing, of old age, raised that favorite parenting question: "Mom, do hamsters go to Heaven?" I directed my son to a member of the clergy to have that question answered. Mom Parenting Technique #106: Refer difficult questions to subject matter experts.

The recently passed Squeakers #4 had been presumed dead once before, when it escaped from its cage and remained on the loose for two weeks.  At one point we decided it had somehow gotten outside, because someone who shall remain nameless likes to open the front door and not close it.  Squeakers #4 probably got eaten by a raptor, I told the Son of Never Stops Eating. It's part of the great circle of life. And then, just as we were preparing to purchase a new hamster, he discovered the very much alive Squeakers #4 under his bed, along with about 100 Lego bricks, a bathing suit he'd outgrown, and several empty Capri Suns.

What this hamster ate for two weeks, we have no idea.

Squeakers #4 lived a long and eventful life, if you consider her two weeks going free range in our house, and she passed peacefully into the Great Hamster Afterlife.  The next day, father and son went to the pet store and returned with Squeakers #5, who is settling in nicely to her (or his; we're not sure) new habitat.  May she (or he) have a long life, and not attempt any escapes or chew any drywall.