According to Hofmann: The hamster humdinger
Whenever you鈥檙e introducing a new pet into the family, a process takes place 鈥� a ritual, if you will.
Before we adopted our dog, the process started with my stepdaughter, Emma, asking for a dog, me saying not now, her insisting and then getting my wife, Amber, involved to crush my spirits and finally open my heart to get a dog 鈥� at a cheap price, of course.
Shortly after Christmas, the process started again, but Emma set her sights on a hamster.
For once, Amber was on my side as we both shot down the idea faster than an investor would shoot down the idea of a restaurant that sold soup sandwiches.
We explained to her that having a hamster is a huge responsibility, as she would have to feed, provide water, change the bedding and pick up little hamster turds.
It鈥檚 not like the responsibility of owning a dog, which means dad takes care of everything.
But, having no foresight, Emma continued the harassment, pointing out that she received roughly $580,000 dollars over Christmas and after paying to get her ears pierced (coming soon to a column near you!) and buying a few stuffed animals, she had about $80 left and would pay for everything.
She had a compelling point that hit me in my soft spot, which is my wallet; however, I still had visions of me cleaning out hamster waste from a cage while Emma approaches me and asks for a pet parrot or something.
After a week of asking/begging/threatening/blackmailing, we finally semi-broke down and made a deal with her that, since Amber had to work on that particular weekend, we鈥檇 get the hamster the weekend after that as a family so we could bond or some crap like that.
鈥淏ut Daaaaaad!鈥� Emma whined. 鈥淚f I wait that long, I鈥檓 going to forget about wanting a hamster, and I鈥檒l spend my money on other stuff!鈥�
DING-DING-DING-DING! We have a winner!
鈥淲ell, Emma, if you鈥檒l forget about it by that point, you never really wanted one that bad in the first place and this is just an impulse buy.鈥�
鈥淏ut I really want a hamster really bad right now!鈥�
鈥淵ou don鈥檛 get the concept of logic, do you?鈥� I asked.
I have to hand it to Emma because she didn鈥檛 abandon her desire for a hamster after two weeks like Amber and I hoped, so we kept our word and went to the rodent section of the local pet store to select the new lucky member of our clan.
Emma told the store employee she wanted the off-white hamster that met her stringent criteria by commenting, 鈥淥h, it鈥檚 so cute!鈥�
Of course, she then noticed something that canceled her enthusiasm and replaced it with concern. She noticed that the hamster had teeth.
鈥淒o they bite?鈥� Emma asked the store employee.
鈥淚鈥檓 not going to lie to you,鈥� the employee said. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e going to get bit.鈥�
At that moment, a look of uncertainty washed across her face 鈥� much like the expression someone has after they pick up a knife-wielding hitchhiker and they鈥檙e wondering if they鈥檙e going to be murdered in their own car.
I really thought Emma would chicken out and abandon her desires, but she looked at my wife and me and had some calming reassurance that, no matter what, I was the one who would end up taking care of this thing.
The hamster, later named 鈥淲illow,鈥� was placed in a thin cardboard box roughly the size of the box KFC uses for their biscuits. Four dime-size holes were on the sides so the hamster could breathe.
Because Emma was too freaked out to hold the box, Amber held the box while I drove home.
Within one minute of the seven-minute drive, Amber alerts me that Willow is beginning to chew the holes of the box.
I assured Amber everything is going to be all right, but Amber gave me second-by-second updates about the progress of the chewed-away hole and holes. As Amber flipped the box around, Willow started chewing another hole until Amber鈥檚 dread-filled voice said, 鈥淚 see her whole face!鈥�
At that point Emma started sobbing and begged me to do 60 mph in a 35 zone so we could get home ASAP.
Ignoring advice from my high-school driving instructor, I took my eyes off the road to see what the fuss was about, and I soon understood the panic surrounding me as the hamster had chewed away a significant portion of one of the holes and, indeed, had her head sticking out of it like Jack Nicholson in 鈥淭he Shining.鈥�
At that point, I had a myriad of options at my disposal 鈥� some sensible and some sinister 鈥� so I picked one somewhere in the middle, grabbed the box from Amber and blew on the hamster鈥檚 face.
It worked, as Willow retreated back into the box about two times, and then realized she didn鈥檛 need to be afraid of what was essentially wind with a beef-jerky aroma to it and continued with her escape.
Fortunately, I was pulling up to the driveway at that moment and was able to rush in the house and get the box in front of the cage and, of course, the hamster didn鈥檛 want to leave the box.
鈥淣ow you get stage fright,鈥� I said and managed to get her into her new home.
Looking back, though, I鈥檓 glad we had that experience with Willow, as there is nothing quite like a little chaos to bring a family together and solidify cherished memories that last a lifetime.
All things to reflect upon as I dump out hamster turds.
According to Hofmann is written by staff reporter Mark Hofmann of Rostraver Township. His books, 鈥淕ood Mourning! A Guide to Biting the Big One 鈥� and Dying, Too鈥� and 鈥淪tupid Brain,鈥� are available on Amazon.com.