And then there were two...

So, instead of making the happyfuntime post of love, fun, and frivolity, as a followup to my last incite-riot-and-alienate-people post, I have some sad news to report. Er, two sad pieces of news to report.

Dax died about two weeks ago. She was my exuberant, runs around like she's on speed dwarf hamster. She ran right out of energy, and we found her curled up in her tube, Tempe crying and trying to cuddle her stiff body back to life. We placed Dax in a box, ready for the burial ritual, but waited just a few days too long. At least we found out what the smell was! But where she was buried didn't matter, because her spirit was already running around up there with Sam.

Ruy and I went to T.G.I.F. (The Gluten Intolerance Festival) in Victoria this past weekend. While we were away, we left the hammies their food and water and playthings, and assumed all would be fine.

Tempe made a break for it, sometime between Thursday afternoon and Monday evening. Perhaps she was eager to find out where Dax had gone.

No amount of calling her name or leaving out treats would get her to come forth and show herself. Ruy was certain she had escaped into the wild, open world, through the partially open window. I doubted it.

We heard her final squeaks this afternoon. Who knows what she was really saying. I like to think it was "Look out, Dax and Sam! Here I come!" Whatever it was, it helped us to locate her, but moments too late. Uh, not my favourite memory.

So, farewell, Tempe, and farewell, Dax. May the wind be ever at your backs.

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.

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.