Thursday, 26 July 2007

The universe wants me to have a hamster, II

Update on the hamster situasie: Apparently the universe really wants me to have three hamsters, because one of them rose from the dead, only 10 minutes after I took delivery of said rodents.

What an odd day. First the strange hamster and money serendipity,* and then this. I drove my daughter (who by this time had worked herself up into a state of white-knuckled excitement) to her friend's house to collect the hamsters. Very cute they were too, all grey and white and fluffy, and smaller than day-old chicks. We decided to take all three hamsters, on the grounds that it wasn't fair to leave one chap on his ownsome. The housekeeper who handed over the creatures kindly carried the (borrowed) cage to the car and put it on the back seat.

Then my daughter cried, 'Mom! The hamster's neck is stuck under the cage! ' To my horror, the poor little thing was pinioned between the cage and the tray. I retrieved it, it twitched once and then it went limp in my palm.

'Oh NO!' I wailed. Frantically I tickled its tummy and blew on its snout, but nothing. Nada. This was an ex-hamster. Gone to meet its maker. Joined the choir invisible, etc.

'I think his neck is broken,' I said after a few moments of administering first aid. My daughter, stricken, turned white. Then she swallowed, took the hamster in her palm, and handed it gravely back to the housekeeper, saying, 'I think we'll just take two hamsters, thank you.'

'No, we'll take all three,' I gabbled. I put the poor limp thing into the cage and drove away, frantically dialling my friend to tell her that one of her daughter's beloved 'babies' had met a sorry end. How on earth was I going to break the news? This little girl, let's call her Kate, adores her hamsters, and I wasn't looking forward to telling her that one-third of her gift to my daughter had ceased to exist.

No point in telling my daughter not to say anything - telling her a secret is like handing her a megaphone. Then ten minutes later - oh, joy and relief! - a strangled squeak from the back seat. The little one sat up, rubbed its eyes, dusted itself off and scampered happily off to the water spout, evidently no worse for the wear (apart from a slightly flattened neck).

When my friend called back a few moments later (she'd heard the news from her housekeeper), entreating me to keep the news from her Kate, I joyfully informed her that a miracle had occured.

So now we have three hamsters.

** A final serendipity today. I've been hunting for a large and important bunch of keys for over three weeks now. This bunch holds spare keys for all the external doors in my house, plus the only keys for two doors on an outbuilding. I arrived home with my son, and gave him my house keys to open the front door while I got some stuff out of the boot. 'I HATE this lock!' he complained. 'It's so difficult to open! When are you going to get it replaced?'

'Chill,' I said. 'The locksmith is coming tomorrow to replace the lost key bunch'. As I said 'locksmith', my eye fell on something shiny poking out from under the carpet in my boot. Guess what it was.

I think I'll have a gin & tonic now.

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3 comments:

angel said...

heh heh... so thats how it works- you give in to the hamster forces and they give your keys back!

meggie said...

I have just discovered this blog via Tony Park. I am having such good laughs, I have to return.

Juno said...

Thanks Meggie!