Ok, so I realized I never posted about my hamster, Cookie.
Poor, dear, Cookie.
So while I was on a skiing vacation with my family, my mom was scrolling through our neighborhood facebook group, when she saw someone was giving away a hamster.
She asked if my brother and I would like a hamster, to which we disbelievingly said “yeah, sure” not believing that my dad would ever allow a rodent in his house.
Cue a few days after we get home, and I am sitting on the back of a golf cart with a giant hamster cage on my lap.
This cage was in pretty bad shape. The hamster was about a year old, and the 16 year old girl who ‘owned’ it got a job and never took care of it. The bedding was piled to one side, the bottom was crusted with pee and damp bedding, and the food was scattered everywhere.
But damn that hamster was cute.
We took her home, and let her sit with my brother while we scrubbed down the cage. She was very tame, and liked to cuddle and explore. She munched on carrots and cheerios and didn’t try to run away at all.
The next few days were great. She didn’t run on her wheel very much, she preferred to sleep. But she was tame enough that I could wake her up and pick her up, and she wouldn’t try to bite me. She just liked to snooze.
I had a friend over, and we had a fun time playing with her on my bed and just watching her explore. She went home, and I put Cookie back in her cage.
She started acting weird. She was shaking, hard. I turned the fan off, but she didn’t stop. She started falling asleep weirdly, like dozing off while sitting up or pressed against the glass. I started to get worried.
In the morning, I tried to pick her up, and she hissed at me. She’d never hissed at me before. Then she sat up, and fell asleep again.
So I told my mom she was being weird, and my mom said there wasn’t much we could do at the moment, but if she was still being weird in a day or two we could try taking her to the vet.
At school I was quietly worried. I said nothing, hoping she’d be fine. But I felt it in my heart. Cookie wasn’t going to make it.
And when I got home…
She was dead.
Cold. Stiff. A pool of blood by her face, like she’d spat up before she died.
We’d had her for a week.
I cried, but as much as I loved her, we’d only had her for a week, so I wasn’t as attached as I would have been if she’d survived longer.
We think she must have been sick when we got her, from her nasty cage and neglectful owners.
We froze her, since the ground has been too wet to bury her. But it’s been so long we think we might just put her in a shoebox and give her a trash burial.
But yeah. I owned a hamster for a week.
It sucks, but as is the circle of life.
And I got a new one two weeks later, and that one’s survived a month, so that’s pretty great I guess.