Pets
I grew up as an only child. I didn't even have any cousins who lived in the same city. Nor did I ever have pets of my own. My grandfather had a small white mutt of a dog for a time, and I got really attached to him, but after a couple of years he suddenly disappeared. He probably got run over by a car, since he liked to chase them so much, but nobody ever told me what really happened to him.
A year or two after we first moved to the States, my Dad found a small baby bird that fell out of its nest while he was standing right outside of our front door. I took it in, made a padded box for it and fed it grains hoping that one day it would fly away. But after about a week it turned up dead. I was so upset that I didn't get another pet for about fifteen more years.
A little while ago we bought two Roborovski dwarf hamsters, Hansa and Pansa. You wouldn't expect it, but even two-inch critters can have real personalities. Hansa was the skinnier, less trusting yet more adventurous one. Pansa was a bit larger and lazier but far more personable. We really liked watching them play, run in the wheel, dig tunnels in the bedding, climb through toilet paper rolls, wash themselves, and munch on nuts and strawberries. We read books and online discussion boards on how to best care for them, perused the great variety of pet toys and treats offered at the local stores, and tried our best to create a "hamster paradise." Suddenly, I realized what I was missing all along.
One day Hansa somehow hurt one of her front feet. It didn't look so bad at first and after a couple of days it seemed to be healing. Then suddenly she became very sad and stopped eating. Our guess is that she got a blood infection. We took her to the vet but it was too late. She stopped breezing in our hands while we were trying to give her antibiotics. I dug a hole in the ground in the back yard behind our apartment and buried her with some aspen bedding and her favorite treats. This happened two weeks ago, on Friday, June 27, but I still cannot think about her without tears in my eyes.
When we took Hansa away, Pansa rolled in her ball to the front door and waited there. She still misses her sister. They always used to sleep side by side to warm each other up. We tried to get Pansa another cage mate, but she didn't want anything to do with her. So she is all alone now. Sometimes she raises her head up to the sky, as if talking to Hansa. She never did that before.
Pansa still loves cheese. But these days she hastily stuffs her cheek pouches with it and runs away. I guess she doesn't trust us anymore. Now we have to earn her trust all over again.
A year or two after we first moved to the States, my Dad found a small baby bird that fell out of its nest while he was standing right outside of our front door. I took it in, made a padded box for it and fed it grains hoping that one day it would fly away. But after about a week it turned up dead. I was so upset that I didn't get another pet for about fifteen more years.
A little while ago we bought two Roborovski dwarf hamsters, Hansa and Pansa. You wouldn't expect it, but even two-inch critters can have real personalities. Hansa was the skinnier, less trusting yet more adventurous one. Pansa was a bit larger and lazier but far more personable. We really liked watching them play, run in the wheel, dig tunnels in the bedding, climb through toilet paper rolls, wash themselves, and munch on nuts and strawberries. We read books and online discussion boards on how to best care for them, perused the great variety of pet toys and treats offered at the local stores, and tried our best to create a "hamster paradise." Suddenly, I realized what I was missing all along.
One day Hansa somehow hurt one of her front feet. It didn't look so bad at first and after a couple of days it seemed to be healing. Then suddenly she became very sad and stopped eating. Our guess is that she got a blood infection. We took her to the vet but it was too late. She stopped breezing in our hands while we were trying to give her antibiotics. I dug a hole in the ground in the back yard behind our apartment and buried her with some aspen bedding and her favorite treats. This happened two weeks ago, on Friday, June 27, but I still cannot think about her without tears in my eyes.
When we took Hansa away, Pansa rolled in her ball to the front door and waited there. She still misses her sister. They always used to sleep side by side to warm each other up. We tried to get Pansa another cage mate, but she didn't want anything to do with her. So she is all alone now. Sometimes she raises her head up to the sky, as if talking to Hansa. She never did that before.
Pansa still loves cheese. But these days she hastily stuffs her cheek pouches with it and runs away. I guess she doesn't trust us anymore. Now we have to earn her trust all over again.