Today as I consume my 2 pm snack of yogurt I'm reminded of yogurts of the past. My friend Julie sent me home with a black bear hamster a few summers ago and I loved him. He never bit or peed on anyone and he was just a good little guy to cuddle. He got very ill at the end, and I was hand feeding him yogurt on his own little spoon to keep him going. He walked on a leash. He bit my ex's nipple. He was such a good friend.
Of course this is in contrast with my first hamster, Shnooky Slush-Bucket who hated everyone, constantly escaped, bit me, peed everywhere and lived- in spite of eating a fair amount of dishwasher detergent, aquarium sealant, and chewing through several cupboards- for like 4 years. Apparently his evil immortality did not extend as far as anti-digestive powers. Kit Edward Kat enjoyed a hearty brunch one Sunday, lucky little bastard. We buried what remained of Shnooky's remains in one of those cookie boxes for those cookies that were vanilla on one side and chocolate on the other (which I used to call Daddy Cookies) somewhere outside of Vegas.
I had another hamster as well, who tragically passed away of testicular cancer. It was very sad and also anatomically hilarious. I tipped the entire contents his bed-pod into a Puma box and wrapped it in an Abercrombie and Fitch bag and left him next to the clogged garbage chute. He was an ok hamster, he bit me twice, but he peed on Steve.
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