A week ago I was at a cookout at a friend's house. Said friends have children who are interested in becoming hamster owners. Apparently their parents have sanctioned this and have already acquired a cage in anticipation of two of our baby hamsters being old enough to leave their mother. One of the excited children came to me and asked me to pick out the two nicest hamsters for her. My expression in response to the request was one that only occurs when I desperately want to respond with a forthright remark but doing do would most assuredly lead to me having to pay for years of psychotherapy after having damaged the developing psyche of a friend's child. I'm reasonably sure what did issue forth from my mouth was appropriately diplomatic because I witnessed no expressions of shocked horror afterward.
Mr. Lime is keen to get rid of these creatures ASAP so they don't begin reproducing again. I am in accord with this, however, I still think this should be Diana's responsibility NOT ours. He looked up online when they should be ready to separate from their mother and came away confused because he wasn't sure of the breed of hamster. He went in to examine the hamsters himself then called me into the room.
Uh...how many babies did Naomi have?
They tell me she had seven.
How many do you see now?
Looks like five to me.
Yeah, me too. Any idea where the other two are?
I reckon either in the piles of poo or else they've escaped.
(Mr. Lime looks under the bed)
What, you really think if they've escaped they are that close just waiting to be found?
No, I guess we'll just assume they were eaten. I think I'll take them to he pet store to see if I can get some answers.
Have at it.
Some time later I receive a text from Mr. Lime stating we are now hamster free. Upon his return I ask about the arrangements. It seems the pet store let him know the critters can't leave mama for another two weeks. Nonetheless he took them to our friend's house and suggested since they were keen to have hamsters they could take care of the whole lot of them and choose the two they want at the end of the two weeks. There was great gladness in our friend's house albeit with a firm reminder from the parents that the children would only be keeping TWO of the babies. This still left the issue of the mother and the remaining babies.
It seems on the way home Mr. Lime had a call from the adult daughter of another friend.
I hear ya have a hamster problem.
You heard right.
I can fix that for ya.
Well they aren't weaned yet.
S'alright, whenever you're ready.
I dunno if we will have boys or girls for you.
I don't care.
I am not sure what breed they are.
Yep. My snake will eat 'em regardless of breed or gender.
As he finished relating the future which awaits the hamsters not chosen as pets I asked about the mother.
What do you care?
Well, see...I looked in her eyes one day...and she has a name...and we're both mothers.
You're insane. It's a rat. You're planning on caring for it?
Then it goes to the snake.
As I pondered the whole situation and felt like some sort of cold killer recreating a rodent version of Sophie's Choice, Calypso, who has declared her unrelenting and abject hatred of these creatures from the day the first one entered the house, interjected with an icy cold, "I'd like to attend the execution."