Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Now I am convinced they could ACTUALLY rip my face off.
Blogworld, we have a problem.
And it is that our hamsters have been fighting lately, and one of them is missing her EARS.
I'm dead serious, and once you stop your incessant laughter, I want you to think about the gravity of this situation, in that I'm pretty sure they are cage fighting to the death, and I am either going to let this happen, or I will be purchasing ANOTHER hamster cage to appease hormonal rodents.
I mean, this is like the conundrum of life; spend $20 on a cage to settle the arguing of HAMSTERS, or buy two v-neck tees from Target. FYI, I compare all unexpected money spent to what it could by me at TARGET--this is, sadly, how I measure value.
We have robo-hamsters, which are the size of small field mice; and so when G said that one's ears were missing, I kind of just figured that she couldn't SEE it. And then I checked it out, and remembered that *sometimes* kids know what they are talking about--because I appeared to be looking at a hamster brain, via a small-ish hole of the top of it's head. I feel like this is going to turn into some kind of nasty infection, but Mike assures me that hamsters can survive an ear amputation.
I'm not sure how he KNOWS this, exactly--but he came at me with logic and theory, and asked if I would die without my ears? And the answer is that I just don't know, because people die over dumb things like hiccups and bug bites ALL THE TIME, and open head wounds just seem worse (ask House).
Since the day we got these things, they have been rather hard to tell apart; we named them Pinky and The Brain, and used their names interchangeably, but this most recent turn of events makes it quite EASY to distinguish them. Pinky, is obviously the hamster that let The Brain gnaw her ears off.
And I have this terrible guilt that this is all my fault, because a few weeks ago, the hammies were MANIC. Running all the time, climbing the cage, fighting and squeaking. We couldn't figure out who had fed them speed, and then after TWO DAYS, Mike noticed they had no food. When was the last time you fed them anything other than amphetamines, he asked?
Crap, I couldn't remember. But in my defense, these things load all their kibbles into their fat mouths/heads/bodies and then go and hoard it under their wood chips. Touche, hammies--I INVENTED that move. This is NOT MY FIRST TIME to the hamster rodeo, as I have cleaned their cage on many occasions, and dumped what appeared to be entire bags worth of hamster food into the trash. Food that is the equivalent of a pair of Target sunglasses, if you are keeping track.
But apparently, hamsters need FOOD (not sunglasses, because HOW would Pinky wear them without EARS???), and as soon as we filled their tiny bowl up, they stopped trying to kill each other, but OBVIOUSLY not before it flipped the "Apocolypse Now" switch in their little brains.
Which is precisely how we find ourselves down two hamster ears. I mean, that's WEIRD, right?