Survival of the Fittest

What a fun little box!I wonder what's in it. Could it be chocolates? A new necklace? Some gizmo for the computer? What could it be?

Is the suspense killing you yet?

How ironic. That box contains one un-hamster. It is the new home of the furry friend who recently inhabited these cool digs.Our dear friend Timex has moved on to the Great Big Wheel in the Sky after only 16 short days with our family.

Santa ought not bring disposable gifts.

Or, at least, he could bring ones that do not expire 2 days after their warranty does. Did you know hamsters come with a 14 day warranty? Neither did I.

Timex was a beloved member of the Mr Lady household. Timex's daddy, 1of3, spent his entire allowance last week on a fun new exercise ball and treats for him. After carefully negotiating their relationship, Timex had finally consented, not two days earlier, to being fed by hand.Oh, a father's love is a powerful thing. There were 3 failed escape attempts that all ended quietly and peacefully. There was a water change every day. Treats were given daily, too. The food and litter in the cages have been refreshed often. I swear to god my kids didn't kill this hamster.

Dudes, it was totally me.

Remember this post where I gave you a sneak peek at our Christmas stash? Well, my BFF left this nugget of a comment.

Dear Mr. Lady's Children:

You mother is about to give you hamsters for Christmas. Under no circumstances are you to relegate Hamster-care to your mother. Do not allow her to feed them, pet them, look at them, or otherwise be alone in the house with them.

I know what you will say, and yes, you have a good, loving mama. She has not lost a single one of you to an air vent or lawnmower. However, she can not state the same fact regarding hamsters. What she hasn't told you is that at 16, she moved to Colorado because she had already killed all of the hamsters in Delaware.

The life you might save are those of your beloved hammies.

God speed.
Your Auntie Molly
See, Molly knows something you don't know. She knows that of all my many talents, hamster-killin' is my greatest strength. She has heard the tales. She has watched me laugh so hard I almost peed, retelling the stories of Mr Lady's adventures in genocide. To date, I have had a hand in, or been within suspicious proximity of, the deaths of:
  • 9 hamsters (10 now)
  • 2 cockatiels
  • one lizard
  • one salamander
  • an entire tank of salt-water fish
Yes, yes, we were not children fit for the burden of pet-care. And yet, for some incomprehensible reason, people kept giving us animals. Those beloved pets died in rather unpleasant manners, including but not limited to:
  • burning to death (2)
  • bottle of fantastic brand household cleaner (1)
  • learning to swim (1)
  • eating own toes due to starvation (1)
  • over-feeding, namely over-feeding with acid and alkaline bottles (1 tankful)
  • gnawing off own leg to escape cast on it after break-out and subsequent broken bone (1)
  • decapitation (1)
The list goes on and on. The fact that I have kept one dog and 3 children alive for as long as I have is a Christmas miracle.

Seriously, though, these hamsters that Santa brought? SO WELL TAKEN CARE OF. I have sat up at night, watching them, relishing the fact that my children love them so much and that these boys will never know the pain of pet-death that I knew all to well as a little girl. These hamsters made me happy. I liked them, Timex in particular. I wanted them to live.

It would appear that I am cursed. Animals of the world, be warned: You enter my house at your own risk. No matter my intentions, regardless of my efforts to the contrary, odds are your days are numbered.

I wonder how long poor Mae has left.