When I was a kid, I had a pet hamster, named Murphy. He was really cute and furry, and I adored him. I felt an enormous amount of guilt about leaving him to go to school. I decided that he needed a friend, another hampster to keep him company and provide the things I could not. Mom drove me to the pet store and we picked out the new friend. He was also cute and furry, I named him Whitey, because of his snow white fur. I couldn't wait to take him home and introduce him to Murphy.
As soon as placed Whitey into the cage with Murphy, the trouble began. They immediately disliked each other. They hissed and scratched and eventually, got into a fur brawl that sent me into hysterics. I reached in and snatched Murphy out of the cage, as I had known him longer and he had my allegiance. I tried everything to get these two to get along. I built a wall out of cardboard and gave them each their own side of the cage, but they chewed through it and set about destroying the other. Finally, I removed Whitey from the cage entirely and returned him to the small box he had originally come in, a temporary home until I could afford another cage.
That night, Whitey escaped the box and disappeared into my family's home. We couldn't find him anywhere. Then, a few nights later, there was a scuffle in my parents bedroom. Apparently, Whitey had scaled the drapes and paratrooped onto my fathers pillow. Dad awoke to find a ghostly rodent next to his head and flung Whitey across the room with enough force to render him lifeless. I was heartbroken. I had only wished for a friend for Murphy, but it just wasn't meant to be. Eventually, my brother murdered Murphy when he used him as moving target practice for his BB gun.
I have never owned another hamster.