07/10/04
My Wee Hamster

I can't remember all that happened in the beginning--it seemed to be lots of bantering between my dad and me--but at some point he kind of led me over to the upstairs stairwell as if he wanted me to see something over there, yet was being kind of subtle about it. I was talking all the while as I opened the door and looked into the stairwell and I noticed this little cage sitting to the left with a tiny little golden hamster in it! Dad had gotten me a hamster! :D "Ohhhhh, he's so CUTE!" I exclaimed. For there could be no doubt it was a male hamster, as it had a very large pair of...well, you know. o_o

I think it was nighttime. I took the cage out of the stairwell and went into the living room with it. This hamster was TRULY tiny--maybe two inches long! I knew it was young, but it wasn't a baby, since it had fully developed...well, you know. o_o But it wasn't a dwarf either, since I've had dwarf hamsters, and I've had goldens; and the coloration on this one was distinctly golden--the orangish-tan fur on top, the white belly below. It was so very cute! I took it--him, sorry--out of his cage and cuddled him, at least, as much as I could, considering how TINY he was. I kept chattering, now about the hamster. In the living room Dad told me how this hamster had been acquired--I guess somebody else had had some small pets and had needed to get rid of them, and for some reason Dad parceled them out to different people. The hamster was the last pet remaining and as I love hamsters, it went to me. He said that it had lived with at least one other hamster and they had been happy together, so I think there was a fear that it--HIM, sorry--might be lonely or snappish on his own, but he seemed to be doing well enough in my care. So adorable! I puzzled over what Dad had just told me, since based on what I know of golden hamsters it didn't make much sense.

"He was living with another hamster?" I asked. "That's weird, because goldens are usually so territorial...unless it's a male and a female, and then they'd end up having babies!" I felt it was another male hamster mine had been living with; I know for a fact that female goldens will fight like murder when paired up in the same cage, but I'm not sure about males since I've never had one; in the dream I just assumed it would be the same. So the hamster's friendship with his cagemate, and his loneliness at being separated from him, puzzled me. I remarked that this behavior was more like that of real dwarf hamsters, which according to what I've read AREN'T as territorial as goldens--"But I didn't KNOW that when I bought my dwarf hamsters," I said aloud, "until I came home with just one and THEN read about it!" Dad chuckled at this, and the story was true--in real life, the couple of times I bought dwarfs, I bought a solitary hamster only, since I assumed they would fight the same as goldens do if I got more than one. Yet when I at last purchased a book on dwarf hamster care, it said that they are communal animals and prefer company! Shows what assuming too much can do. o_o;

Well, I was playing around with this tiny hamster in the living room--the lights were on and I seemed to be sitting on the other side of the footstool, near the heater--and Dad brought over a book on hamster care and showed it to me. There was like a line drawing of a hamster near the top of the page, and some sort of caption which included a word like "toxicity," though it might have sounded more like a disease name, maybe ending in "-itis," like an inflammatory disorder. "Do you know what this is?" I believe Dad asked; he then went on to explain how this little hamster sometimes suffered from flatulence or something.

"Maybe his little stomach is just upset," I suggested, and squeezed the hamster affectionately.

Dad shook his head and pointed out the drawing. Apparently...there was some sort of disease which afflicted hamsters, and it had to do with something being wrong with their stomach, I think, like an inflammation or something being present in it. I can't recall the details but it sounded serious; I don't know if it was fatal, like mycoplasma is with rats, but it worried me nonetheless. Dad wouldn't have pointed it out if it weren't serious, and I had the feeling he was warning me against getting TOO used to this pet, as it could die prematurely. :(

I felt very sad all of a sudden. "Well," I said after a little bit, and hugged the hamster again, "at least I can care for it." When I realized how that came out sounding wrong--as if I had been suggesting I could actually heal the hamster--I added, "I can make it feel comfortable as long as I have it."

(Him, sorry. I just tend to refer to small animals as "it"s. o_o )

This thought gave me enough comfort to cheer me up a bit. It was true--even if I couldn't help the hamster with his condition, I could care for him, play with him, keep him fed and entertained, and basically just comfort him until he happened to pass away. I was performing a needed service by taking in an animal that might not be wanted by others who would be searching for a healthy pet. I could care for a terminal pet which would otherwise be overlooked, and at least make sure his remaining time was spent happily. That was good enough for now.

I seemed to be over nearer the couch now, still talking to Dad--I think I had set the hamster or his cage on the floor (it was just a little cage, like a carrier), but he was running around and then he RAN UNDER THE COUCH!! :O "Uh-oh," I said, pressing myself to the floor and lifting the flap. Dad was seated on his end and I was near the other end. The hamster was running around under the couch and I feared losing him, just after I'd gotten him!! This made me feel VERY stupid and I think I apologized as I looked under the couch. I reached for him a few times but he was too fast. Fortunately, though, he stayed close to the front end of the couch, not even thinking of scurrying further back under it, so I was at last able to shoo him out and pick him up and dust him off, hugging him again. *Whew!* That had been close.

A real-life relation I can think of for this dream is the fact that, when I first bought my (long deceased) rat Katchoo, I named her thus because she sneezed a lot. It was only when I mentioned this online and somebody posted a link to a site about mycoplasma (a serious, nearly always fatal respiratory disease affecting rats) that I realized this could be a very bad symptom. I immediately felt awful and returned Katchoo to her cage and refused to play with her the rest of the night; I didn't want to get close to a pet I knew could die soon. Dad remarked on the stupidity of this decision by saying that now that I had her, there was nothing I could do; I could at least care for her. Fortunately, I realized he was right, and decided that I could at least care for her the best I could until she should die. Katchoo ended up living over a year or perhaps just about two; she did not live as long as I believe a rat is supposed to live, and she did suffer somewhat near the end, breathing with difficulty and not drinking much and growing lethargic...but even the very day she died, I made sure to take her out of her cage (she jumped out on her own, even) and hold her and let her run around, just an hour or so before she passed away. I'm very sad that she suffered, but at least I cared for her the best I could when others might not have.



2004 Dreams
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