Hamster

We’re off to buy a hamster today.

I say we, I’m not doing the actual purchasing as far as I know. It’s a present for the 12 year old whose birthday it was on Monday.

She had a hamster for her 9th birthday, but we got cats shortly after and somehow they got into the living room while we slept and did what cats do to hamsters. RIP Caramel, (aka Gingerbell – a name my red-headed partner hated for obvious reasons).

I’ve always loved cats but these two were trouble from day one. A “ginger tom and a naughty tortie” is how the somewhat touched-sounding vet called them. Ungracious little fuckers I called them. Actually we’re just down to one now as the older cat, the naughty tortie, fucked off and went to live with someone else. The other one has a personality disorder and is as thick as mince. He clawed aforementioned 12 year old on her birthday and once shat in my trousers. I only found out when I put them on.

I’ve always thought you can tell someone’s attitude to other people, especially children, by the way they interact with animals. I could be wrong though. My mum loved cats but hated her own pets, and shouted at them constantly, like they were permanently in the way. Actually, maybe I’m onto something.

Anyhow, we’re getting a new hamster so, note to self: never leave the cat alone in the same room as the hamster unless you want to be writing another post starting “We’re off to buy a hamster today”. Caramel, lest we forget. You is wig da angles now.

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