I'm going to preface this story by saying that I am an animal lover. I have two cats and a dog and love them like my children. I've been hunting once and spent my time sipping hot chocolate in my dad's car watching the deer walk past me and my rifle. I had to put one cat down once and I was heartbroken. Keep this in mind while reading this. This hamster will haunt me forever!!
Here's the back story for you. My son Dylan got a pet hamster for his seventh birthday. It was a boy hamster who he affectionately named Isabella (after a girl he had a crush on in school). Isabella the hamster didn't really do much of anything but hide underneath all the shavings in his cage. Every now and then he'd pop out for an awkward run on his wheel that was too big for him. He'd fall through the spaces so his run didn't last very long. Everything was fine for a few months.
One morning, I was woken up by one of my screaming children.
"Daddy!!!! Somethings wrong with Isabella!"
So half awake I stumble into Dylan's bedroom to see what was going on. At first glance nothing looked different. Then Isabella moved and what I saw caused one thought to come to mind. Zombies. The left side of this little hamster was literally falling apart. I am pretty certain one of his arms (do they have arms or are they all legs? not sure.) was missing. I didn't know what to say so I calmly said to the kids that it looked like Isabella had a cold. Pretty certain a cold would calm them down a bit. In my head I'm thinking "what the hell is wrong with this stupid hamster?" I showed my wife the hamster and she gave a look. I knew what she was thinking but wasn't ready to discuss it yet. The kids went to school and I went to work.
My wife was working third shift at a hospital at the time so that night it was just me and the kids. I fed them dinner, got them washed up and put them to bed. Later that night my wife called me on her break. The conversation went something like this.
Me - "Hello"
her - "Hello"
Me - "What's Up?"
Her - "You need to do something about the hamster"
Me - "Ummmm..........what do you suggest?"
Her - "Take a syringe and give it some nyquil or something."
Me - "Won't that just put it to sleep? You know I think it has a little more than a cold."
Her - "I have to go....just figure it out."
Shit. Now its on. Its up to me to figure out how to kill a poor little hamster using nothing other than household items. But I can't let this little zombie hamster pass his weird body disintegrating disease along to someone so I have no choice at this point. Nyquil? I don't feel like this will work. First I need to collect the hamster. I grab a small box, fill it with shavings and scoop the hamster up. I closed the box so he couldn't get out and placed him on the coffee table in front of me so I could strategize. Yes, I poked holes in the box. I mean I don't want the hamster to not be able to breathe before his life is ended.
So about 15 minutes pass and Isabella is still rustling away in this tiny little box on the table. I get another call from the wife asking me if I did it. No, I haven't. Haven't even started the process. She tells me to get it over with and hangs up. Then it hits me. If I was stuffed in some box with some weird disease, would I want to be pumped with over the coutner pharmeceuticals? No I would definitely not. So I chose a different option for my little friend the hamster. Jose Cuervo Gold.
I grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured about a half a shot into the cap. Downed it, then poured another capful to be used for a different purpose. I took the syringe and filled it. Naturally as I'm preparing my kill room like I'm the animal version of Dexter, my two cats are sitting across from me, staring as if they knew what I was about to do. Because aminals understand humans, I had to have a quick heart to heart with Zazu and Simba. I reassured them that what they are about to witness will never be done to them. As long as they don't decide to become part of the walking dead like Isabella of course. So after my brief discussion, I slowly open the box. Isabella was sitting, staring at me without any idea about what was about to happen. So I placed the syringe near his mouth and attempted to unload about a half a shot of tequila down his throat. I say attempted because he wouldn't sit still. I ended up soaking Isabella head to toe in tequila.
After the syringe was empty, Isabella was laying down in his bed of shavings barely moving. I figured that should take care of things so I close the box and put it to the side. I didn't want to discard the remians until I knew the hamster was gone. So I sat and waited. I called my wife to tell her that the issue has been dealt with. As I was having a conversation, the box began to move. I opened the box and there he was. Staring at me. Testing me. Daring me to do more. I hung up the phone, closed the box, and sat in silence. Obviously tequila isn't working.
What's stronger than tequila? How about some 150 proof rum? Lets give it a shot (literally). So instead of the tequila, I fill the cap with rum. Naturally I have to sample the product first, so I put one back, then fill the syringe for my little friend. Again, I attempt to feed him the rum but he takes off running in circles, which as you know is not easy to do after a night of drinking. The circles get slower, and slower, and slower until finally he lays down. I think this time he's had enough. So again, I close the lid, and put the box to the side and wait. 15 minutes go by, nothing. 1/2 hour goes by, nothing. So I open the lid and see a poor little hamster who has taken his last breath curled up in his bed of wood shavings. I close the lid, put an elastic around the box and take him outside. I texted my wife. "It's done." I feel like an assassin. I don't like the feeling.
I had already drafted a letter to my son about Isabella's disappearance. It was from an angel addressed to Dylan explaining that she came down and took Isabella to hamster heaven so he can be with the rest of his hamster family who came to heaven before him. What I didn't think to do was leave the cage in his bedroom. As I was about to go put the letter in his room, I hear a scream. "Daddy!!!!!! Isabella's cage is gone!!!!!!"
Shit. Now what? I quickly run into his room and sit him down. (sidenote: At this moment I remembered when I lost a cat when I was young. Yes mom, I'm talking about Pepper. I was told that my cat ran away. I spent weeks looking for Pepper. I found out later that the cat never ran away.) So what do I do? Do I tell him the truth and rip off the bandaid or do I make something up? I hand him the letter and tell him that I just saw the angel fly out the window and that the angel, who I called Jasmine for some reason, told me that Isabella loved him very much and thought he was the best owner ever. It broke my heart listening to him cry himself back to sleep afterwards but in the end I think it is pretty obvious that it was better that he didn't know the truth.
So Isabella passed on that night by alcohol poisoning. I'd say thats better than being done in by lethal injection or just left to rot in your cage right? To this day I feel bad about that night. Poor little hamster left me with little choice. What would you have done in this situation?
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