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.
7 comments:
Hey Saviour,
I grew up with two cats, a boy and girl cat, and they had babies together, so I figured they should be married. So I held a little ceremony and, when it came time for the groom to kiss the bride, I tried to smoosh their little faces together, but it was really, really hard. They resisted, then both ran away.
Hamsters. Hmm. I never had hamsters. Damn, your dad threw the hamster against the wall? That must have been quite traumatic for everyone involved. But it's a funny story.
My friend Paula used to have inbred cats, they all had six toes on each foot. Totally weird.
Yeah, my youth is riddled with dead pet stories. I was really mad at my father, but in the same situation, I would probably have done the same thing.
Life is fragile, handle with care.
What a horrible story!
Someday you'll have to tell the one about drowning the fan-damaged cat in the sink.
BD- That story is a good one. Thanks for reminding me.
My first cat was named Murphy and my Dad hated him so much he let him go in the woods by his medical office after conspiring with my mother about a way to rid the house of the litter box for good. When we got home from school that day my Mom felt so guilty she drove us there to find him. Three hours later we got him back but my relationship with my father was never the same. But on a lighter note, Murphy outlived the marriage of my parents and stayed with us until we finally moved to Texas many years later. My mother's psychotic boyfriend stole him from our house the night before we moved in a feeble attempt to make us stay in town. Didn't work. We were Texas bound and off to a new life the next day. Sometimes change will stop at nothing. We miss you Murphy!
PS. It looks like one of those hamsters has a wet spot on his back. What's THAT about?
Mike- Did you name your cat after "Murphy Brown"? And yes, sometimes when hamsters fight they tend to piss on each other. I always go for the wheel and try to outrun it.
Post a Comment