In February 2020, we got our first hamster at the behest and insistence of my son. I had no reason not to oblige as he was well-behaved and was doing relatively well at school. He had always wanted a dog but that was - and is still - not possible at this point and stage, so we ended up choosing the "lesser evil" in the guise of a rodent. We went to the nearest pet store to look at the options available and a small albino Syrian long-haired hamster caught our immediate eye and attention.
Both my wife and my son quickly claimed him, but there
was a brief tense moment: we had “seen” him first, and a few children came
afterward with some curious glances steered in the direction of this same
hamster. In my nonchalance and observant state of slight detachment, I found
the situation rather amusing; at that instant and instance, it did not matter
which hamster was chosen as long we returned home with one in the bag,
figuratively speaking, of course, and rest assured, it was actually a box.
Shortly thereafter, I filled out all the paperwork,
something I found both essential and amusing because it represented a contract and
a promise to take care of this small furry animal, which we, in our minds and
our deeds, contract notwithstanding, had solemnly pledged to fulfill anyhow. In
my life, pet care and joys had been narrowed and limited to the feline sort, so
it all came as a new experience and a potential challenge as well; this
realization took hold of me as we walked out of the door with a small box that
contained a living, breathing, moving, and occasionally scratching little thing
inside.
Then, the many adventures began. Anxious parents
anxious pet owners make! I was beginning to understand how and why some
childless people tended to treat their pets as delicately and gingerly as if
they were indeed their offspring, their flesh and blood. There was a natural
inclination to take care of these endlessly cute, sweet, and at times
hopelessly fragile-seeming little beings, and where I might have been slightly
critical and on bad days even somewhat cynical towards these overzealous pet
owners, after my own hamster pet experience, I understood and appreciated the
whole dynamic a little bit better.
Our hamster was named Mr. Floofles, and he became
a bit of a YouTube celebrity! My son had named him so and started documenting his
pet, and, in a certain sense, his own growth, experiences, and adventures with
his iPad. Mr. Floofles soon enough became our pride and joy. We would present
him to friends and family members as one of our own, and this special hamster
would even take short trips in my wife’s pocket, including a couple of visits to
my son’s elementary school where both hamster and his respective owner became a
sensation and the talk of the town.
Although Mr. Floofles was feisty at first, soon enough
he became docile and, at least, for the most part, he enjoyed the attention, the
caresses, but most of all, the many delicious foods and treats that he encountered
in our home. He also got various upgrades in his home, which transformed from a
simple single-story cage to a multi-story luxury home that was only lacking a swimming pool. Our beloved hamster had no reason to complain.
Then the pandemic hit. Everything went topsy-turvy
literally overnight, while most of our lives came to a halt and was put on
hold. Our weekend trips and frequent restaurant visits got canceled
indefinitely during the lockdown, while my work and my son’s school went online. In
addition to teaching remotely, I was also essentially homeschooling my son. But
our main solace as well as hope and comfort was this furry little guy who would always be
there for us. Our bond tightened and we ended up spending much more time with him;
he would nap by our side and sleep on the couch, while we were watching movies.
It is not an understatement to call him an actual and active member of our
household and family because he simply was, and it felt like he had always
been.
As much as he adapted to us, we did the same regarding
him. We discovered, paid attention to, and tuned in with his likes and dislikes,
his wishes, and desires. If there was a Zoom chat or meeting, he was never too
far off, and he would sniff the camera up-close to figure out the other person
talking to him via the screen. Apart from his YouTube videos and social media,
he also showed up at other spots and places, including the UBC psychology website! Our life was fully enmeshed with him, and he made the arduous pandemic
somewhat more endurable.
One night as I went to the washroom, I noted a small white
balloon slowly and mysteriously floating towards me on the ground. I looked
more closely and realized it was not a balloon, but it was him, Mr. Floofles
coming to say hi. How in the world did he get out of his cage is still a
mystery to me, but he had always been an escape artist! Once he had managed to
escape one morning, and we were very saddened, especially my son. We thought he
would not return but then late in the evening he came back and was heading in the direction of his cage as if nothing had happened; my son grabbed him, held him
tight, showered him with many kisses, and cried tears of joy.
After those instances, we knew that if he wanted to
escape at night, he could, and indeed he would. Instead, we decided to make it
easier and safer for him. We created his own open pathway from which he could freely
descend and ascend any time he wanted. Incidentally, he would roam about almost
every night after that. Most of the time, he would replace his hamster wheel
with a hearty and prolonged run in the kitchen area. He would run
counter-clockwise various times. If I saw him, he would briefly greet and sniff
at me and continue his obsessive-like exercise.
Then, he got into visiting us in our bedroom at night.
There would be no use in shutting the door as he would be able to crawl from
underneath the door space. Soon enough, he would find a way to crawl up our
bed. It would take him sometimes many attempts, but he would make it
eventually. This hamster taught me so much about resiliency, to keep trying, and
never giving up. On various nights, I would open my eyes with him just
patiently staring at me. It was surprising but never creepy; despite the wee
hours, I never bothered or minded and heartily welcomed his nightly gaze and
presence.
The most amazing thing of those nights was that he
would never scratch nor bite us, not even accidentally. He would also do his
necessities in a specific small corner of the bathroom. And every single
morning, he would go back to his luxury home where we would find him cuddled up
and sleeping the next morning. This went on for many nights, and it was such a
joy to have such a responsible hamster in our home.
Sadly enough, he got sick. He had an acute infection, and it limited his mobility. In a matter of hours, his cheek and tongue became swollen,
and he passed away in our arms. His demise affected us very deeply, deep to the
core, and my son was especially devastated. It was his first significant loss
and sense of grief in his young life, and even I was thoroughly saddened and
shaken by this. It all happened suddenly and unexpectedly, but he had been with us for about two years and had essentially reached the end of his expected and designated
life span. Although we were aware that he would die and we would lose him
one day, it was still a very painful experience.
And I feel that pet grief is not sufficiently talked about nor addressed, whether in conversation, in programs, or on social media. We had previously lost a goldfish, but this was a very different experience altogether, especially considering the close bond and the immense love we had for our little fellow. May he rest in peace, and we still think of him months after and shall never forget him as he shall always be in our minds and hearts. It took me a while to write this, and we have just recently acquired a new hamster, but Mr. Floofles will always be and live on in our memory and this post is dedicated to him with love and affection!
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