Sinister: Hamster Dance

[MyMomSays at xxx.com]

    Honestly, I wasn't surprised when my friend Pamela told me she was 
raising a hamster family.  I remember when I became friends with her five or 
so years ago she catalogued all of the hamsters of the past to me--there was 
Maddie, Oliver, Patsy, and numerous others whose names have escaped me.  But 
then she informed that she was named her hamsters, not joking: Stuart, 
Isobel, Sarah, Richard, Mick and Stevie.  The little shivering, hairless lot 
of them are a mini incarnation of B&S!
    At home, I am not sure I could stand a little cage full of those noisy 
little beasts.  When I was a kid I had a hamster named Snickers who lived for 
about four years and who would keep me up at night running around on his 
little treadmill.  Later on, my sister got two hamsters who never received 
names (and who were also brothers), but they were sort of fat and unfriendly. 
 Later I found that one of them had eaten about half of the other, and I just 
couldn't look at the nasty beast any longer and gave him to my 6th grade 
science teacher.  
    Maybe a week or so ago, Kirsten Kenyon told me that she found a mouse in 
her apartment!  She then told me a story about how she and Jack Gillanders 
had trapped a different mouse and then discovered it was a little baby, and 
when she took it to the park to release it, she felt guilty about breaking up 
the little mouse family.
    Shame about that one, innit?  Little mice are so cute, but there is 
something just kind of creepy about them.  Hamsters are nice because they 
have no tails and like to stuff their cheeks until it looks like they have 
the mumps.
    The other night, Pamela sent me a photograph of her little hamster family 
that she is raising.  I wonder what the band would think if they knew there 
were hamsters running around with their names (thankfully not their 
likenesses).  I admit, they were heartbreakingly cute.  But what kind of 
person decides they want to raise a hamster family? It sounds like a 
mentalist activity to me.  One of my best mates has recently started to raise 
squirrels that he's found orphaned in the wild (wild?).  He found his first 
squirrel, Towelette, hanging off his balcony by her toe, and decided to 
rescue her.  She now lives in his bedroom and poos in the most inconvenient 
of places (Namely, inbetween the keys on his piano).  He was hoping Towelette 
and his other squirrel, Gregory, would mate so he could have an entire 
squirrel family.
    Egads!
    Right now I'd better run along, I just thought you all might enjoy my 
little funny story about the mini B&S running around out there, stuffing 
their faces with seeds and pissing into cedar chips.  B&S--may you never be 
half-eaten by your brother!

Yours, 
Mandee May
"Inconsolably Okay"
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