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Adoption = Losing Pumpkin

We are now Hamsterless.

Our son is devastated.

Hubby and I left for a weekend away (which, as you know, included a full day of reading for me while he attended a conference). Saturday morning, after a full night of sleep with NO interruptions, my cell dinged.

The frantic text from the babysitter read, “Hamster is dead. What do we do with it???”

I called, he cried. In the spirit of solidarity, our daughter cried. The sitter asked if she should throw it out, or bury it, or…

She did not want to bury it. I could tell. Something about the way her voice squeaked when she said “bury.”

I directed her to put the entire cage in Hubby’s work room and lock the door (being sure no cats wandered in).

This afternoon, we gathered as a family and had a Hammie Funeral. I found a heart-shaped rock, which our son placed on top of the Rubbermaid casket.

As my husband filled the dirt back in, our son asked me to say something about the hamster.

“Pumpkin was a good hamster. We all loved him. He never stopped trying to escape; he just knew one day he’d chew through those metal bars. We don’t know why he died, but we are glad for the time we had with him. Enjoy Hamster Heaven, Pumpkin. Run wild and free in the meadow with no bars to hold you back.”

Actually, that last part is what I wish I’d said. Note to self: tell the kids tomorrow that he’s running wild and free. They’ll like that.

And as much as I loved Pumpkin, I’m sort of relieved. Ever since we brought the new pup home, I’ve been dreading the day that acrobatic canine might find a way to jump from bed-to-chair-to-desk-to-dresser (I’ve already tossed him off our high kitchen table more than once) to the hamster cage.

Sad the hammie is gone; reallyreallyreallyreally glad the dog didn’t do it. He’s actually sleeping in our son’s room tonight–he’s a great therapy dog (not trained…he just is).

Once again, our kids face permanent separation. It never gets easier.

RIP, Pumpkin.




Image from It looks exactly like Pumpkin.

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