Six Feet Under

(Or probably less.)

Sad news. My stepson’s hamster Max (aka Vlad) passed away yesterday. He was three, so he pretty much lived life to the fullest. I never had a hamster before so it was fun until the end. The poor little guy’s hair started falling out and he wasn’t moving around so well.

Hamsters are usually nocturnal so I really didn’t notice anything wrong until about two weeks ago. Once I did, I started doing research on the web about hamster health. Word to the wise, researching medical conditions on the web never turns out well. You either think you’ve got the plague or feel like Mommy Dearest. I feel like the latter, although if I remember correctly the plague was carried by rodents, so I may still have a shot at that.

We switched bedding, and shortly after I noticed Max having problems. According to the net, some pine bedding carries toxins hazardous to hamsters. My thinking is why would you label it for small animals if it could potentially harm them? Next, I think the poor little guy had a stroke. That was a possibility that never occurred to me. I mean, he’s a mammal. Of course he could have a stroke. I just never dreamed he would. I have close relatives that have had strokes. They were in the ICU for days and weeks of recuperation are involved. Next was the hair loss thing. I don’t know if he had mites or it was due to the stroke or maybe he stopped eating. It was hard to tell. He was a dwarf hamster and he really didn’t eat much anyway. What he took out of his food bowl, he usually hid.

The worst thing was that every condition I looked up indicated I should rush the little guy to the vet right away. Yes, that was my gut reaction at first, but then kept thinking of these stand-up bits on TV about hamsters being disposable pets. I mean, this is an animal kids foist off on one another at camp because the population keeps increasing. I kept having visions of Max hooked up to tiny IV units in a tiny little ICU unit, followed by an astronomical bill from the vet that would cover my next three car payments.

Now don’t everybody get all up in arms about Max suffering. We did our best to keep him warm and I helped him drink from the water bottle a few times a day. It is my sincerest hope that he didn’t suffer. And it’s not like I was going to flush him down the toilet like the guppies. He will have a proper burial in the back yard and we will have comforting thoughts of Max in hamster heaven, running on his wheel, playing in the bedding, and hiding his treasures to his hearts content.

Even his roommate Tiger, aka Jabba the Guinea Pig, seems sad. While they were in separate cages, they shared the room with my stepson when he was at our house. Tiger isn’t normally the cuddly type, but this week he wants to be petted every day. The dog is acting the same way. Of course there are times when I’m not certain who is comforting who.

I don’t know what I’d do without pets in the house, even at sad times like this.