Today we found Sandy, our old Siberian dwarf hamster, had curled up in her little house and died.
Sandy was a good hamster. She’d lived a long life – over two-and-a-half years – and had been getting steadily scruffier and scrawnier and having more and more trouble climbing. Because she never stopped climbing. Even when she kept falling, and getting stuck in the bars, and we had to elderly-proof the whole cage with cardboard and toilet paper. She found a way up and would swing along the ceiling using her front paws.
She was Wump’s little pal. They were very much alike. Never slowing down, even when maybe they should. “She’s pew,” Wump said. “Just like me.”
Sandy was a very pew hamster. Right up to yesterday. Then, last night, she went and bundled up in her nest, and she went to sleep. Not too shabby, I think.
Wump, August 3rd, 2019. I still remember how happy she was, carrying Sandy home from the pet shop.
Pets are a funny thing. We love them so much. If there’s such a thing as a soul, some part of us that transcends and exceeds our stupid meat, then the things we love have a thread of it too. And when that thread is cut, it hurts. But it stays with us.
So long, little soul. Thanks for being a good friend to my daughter.