When good Hamsters go bad.

Have you met my pet hamster yet?  I don't believe I formally introduced him.  His name is Bob.  I brought lovely Bob into our family as a way to teach my son Zach some responsibility (he feeds Bob & gives him treats with my help.) Awe. Isn't that cute?



Image from here.

That is as close as I can get to a picture of Bob.  I had one, but it was so blurry it looked like a rat behind bars. So this will have to do.

Bob, who had been the cutest, most adorable hammy ever, suddenly got a bit aggressive and big.  Holy crap!  How much is he actually eating?  Is Zach feeding him while I am not paying attention?  How many people in this house are giving him special treats? Weeeelllll.

Mister Bob was not too happy to find out that I was onto his game.  No more of that overindulgence for you.
Oops.  I guess I must have pissed him off, because he freaked out.  Not at first mind you. I got out of work two nights ago to him acting weird. It was very late and I was tired so I didn't really care that he was fussing.  I figured I'd sleep right through it.

Next morning I am getting Zach's clothes and what the hell is that running across the baseboard.  That little freak escaped. Bob was on the run.  FYI if you are new to this blog I have a cat named Zona.  The funny thing was that Bob was running for his life from corner to corner and room to room, while Ms. Zona yawned on my bed.  She is such a snob.  Don't get me wrong here.  She definitely would have swiped him up...If he had come within the 18" circumference of her personal space.

Let me get to the point here. This is how the Bobster was taken down.  After many failed attempts at being nice and humane I had to put the gloves on. Seriously. I have a pair of ski gloves with grip palm that I only bust out in extreme weather. (Did I tell you that Bob bites hard?)  So we trap Bob in the laundry room knowing the only possible escape route without eating through something.  Mom puts Ms. Zona in there and shuts all the doors. Wouldn't you know it Bob pops right out and, much to his dismay, is caught and returned to his home.

I was told by a few people today that he may be getting frustrated.  By which I mean he has no mate. Sorry Bob.  If you intend to get a mate you might want to ask Santa.  Right now I believe you are getting coal. This hardly upsets you because you eat anything given to you. Sigh.

The result of the Bob chase: Lyn being seriously pissed:expected.  Z-man finding the Santa stash: Ouch! Grandma giggling because...Well...It is seriously funny: Fantastic!  Bob the Hamster:: bringing me to my knees: I'd say priceless but well I don't have them and Hey where's da carrot you said I'd get..he..he.

Oh.  I see I am done here.  Isn't pleasant when we can just smile even though your butt hurts.  I think that calls for a song..

How about some Mercy!


Sweet Dreams.

Lyn