Hallelujah...

Happy Pi Day, everyone!

May you recite your digits to the amazement of all your friends, without fear of persecution or pie-throwing.

Four calling birds, three calling birds, two calling birds, and a calling bird in a calling bird...

Thank you all for your lovely comments regarding my last post, both on and offline.  You're all incredibly sweet.  I'm so lucky to have you all as family.

On to more cheery things...

I have Christmas music in my head.  Not just any Christmas music, but the Twelve Days of Christmas.  Except, as you can tell from my title, it's all just morphed into a song about calling birds.  So much so, that I have this modified version stuck in my head, and have been walking around the apartment singing it.

On the fifth day of Christms, my true love gave to me...

Five calllling birds.

Four calling birds.

Three calling birds.

Two calling birds.

And a calling bird in a calling bird.

This brings me to my next point.  What is a calling bird, anyway?  And would having five of them really be a good idea?  It sounds like it would be really loud.  I mean, having four hamsters gets a little loud sometimes, especially when they're tussling with each other.  That's right, tussling.  And that's while half of them are in a separate cage.  (We made two new additions, oddly, the same day Sam died, though before she actually died.  Samus and Ripley.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I will wrap up the post of nonsense, and get back to working on my homework.

It's a sad day in Bike Town...

Sam died this evening.

I knew it was going to happen, as, when we let them out to play in their new hamster playpen, she looked distinctly...weak.

Her body was frail, she had trouble walking, she looked emaciated, and she looked, well, she looked like she was at death's door.

She still ran up and down my arm, and between my two hands, but it was like a ball of fluff.  She was so light.  Even for a dwarf hamster.  She wasn't fluffy, she kept falling on her back and struggling to get up, she looked so sick.

I quarantined her in the upstairs part of the cage when we put the hammies back in.  Gave her some food and water, a part of a paper towel tube to crawl through, some bedding...attached the loop to that side, so she'd have some room to move around if she wanted to.

And that's where I found her curled up at around 20:30.  Somehow, I knew, even before detaching the loop.  She wasn't moving.  Her little chest wasn't going up and down.

The tears started to well up even as I detached the loop.  Reached inside.  No warmth.  No pulse.  Stiff.  Eyes coated white.  My poor little Sammy.

At least she's no longer in pain.

May she rest in peace.

When you're alone and life is making you lonely...

I've been up since 5 this morning.  No, there's nothing wrong.  I just couldn't sleep.  So, I worked on a bit of proofreading for Distributed Proofreaders.  By a bit of proofreading, I of course mean about 86 pages worth.  Proofing is apparently like crack for natural-born editors.  I joined that site not 3 days ago, and I've already proofread 197 pages.  I need 300 in total, and to have been a member of the site for 3 weeks, before I can become a proofer in the next round.

I see the 300 as being no problem, as I'm only 103 away, and it's been 3 days.  Of course, by the same token, I'm 103 away and it's only been 3 days.  *attempts to wait patiently*

You don't own me...

If there were slightly more room in the living room, and slightly lower hazard of tripping over 3 stools, a chair, a clothes rack, and Ruy, I'd so be up and dancing right now.

I'm listening to Lesley Gore right now, as she sings You Don't Own Me.  And I can't help but want to flail all of my limbs around and pretend that what I'm doing actually qualifies as dancing.  Again, didn't get the dancing gene.

*takes a break to groove in her chair to Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows*

Alright, this entry is going nowhere if I keep listening to this music.  I'd better wrap it--sunshine, lollipops, rainbows.......

Down to the village, with a broomstick in his hand...

I've woken up these past few mornings with downright bizarre songs in my head. Yesterday, it was Farmer in the Dell, except I could remember nothing but the first verse and the part about the cheese standing alone. It drove me a little crazy. This morning, it was Frosty the Snowman. What's tomorrow going to be, I wonder?

The hamsters.

I totally forgot to mention that they have names. Their names (pictures to follow) are Sam, Dax, and Tempe.

So, anyway, last night I put together the hammies' new cage, and was intending to move them later on. However, Dax had Restless Leg Syndrome, so just wanted to run around, and/or climb up the cage and nibble. I let her out for a bit, intending to let her run around on me. However, she headed straight under my desk, and I spent a panicked few minutes calling her name, knowing full well that hamsters don't know their own names.

She eventually came scuttling back and was promptly put back into her cage.

Running and climbing ensued. The poor thing.

So, she was put in her hamster ball, and rolled around in the bathroom for a good half hour.

Eventually, it was decided (by me, and possibly her), that she could be the first occupant in the new cage, which has a wheel (the other one doesn't, though it should have - we're still waiting for it to arrive - don't ask, it causes contention).

The other two were still asleep, so I quietly slipped Dax into the new cage. She sniffed around and then headed straight for the wheel. As if they sensed fun happening, the other two woke up, and were shuttled over to the new cage.

All in all, it was a very nice night for them. Sam and Dax fought over the wheel, then decided they would see who could run faster in it. At the same time. At one point, Tempe joined in. It was very cute.

And yes, I *still* managed to fall asleep despite all the racket. Weird dreams ensued, however. One in which I missed Christmas because I slept through it, one in which there was some sort of pandemic, and I was in a resort of some kind, and they called the pandemic The Clapper (I don't know either, although I can't think about it without giggling now), and one where I failed out of dance class because I wasn't well-dressed enough. I don't even dance, people. That talent belongs to my sister. I got the voice. And until someone invents voice-dancing...

The cheese stands alone...

The first thing you need to know, is that I got hamsters. 3 of them, and they're Russian dwarf hamsters. Very cute, very small, very lovable. Dad loves them, Mom hates them and thinks they're scary, and calls them rats. Ruy loves them, Hopper and Haskell are downright afraid of them.

Right, so that was a couple of weeks ago.

Somehow, the cage I bought, did not contain the promised wheel attachment, and PetSmart has not come through in the shipping department. Sadness.

So, I decided to get them a wheel in the meantime, to tide them over. This ultimately culminated in me buying a new cage, with a wheel, because it was cheaper, and Petcetera seemed to be fresh out of wheels.

This, you need to know for the next entry.