Raul the family hamster is on his last legs, literally. Two of his four waifish limbs are no longer serving any sort of transport purpose at all. They merely drag behind him in a sickly fashion. I have actually envisioned creating one of those little pet carts that you see amputee dogs pulling out of toothpicks and tinker toys but I can’t say that thought is fully in the interest of hammy’s health as much as it is my depraved curiosity and sense of humor.
In short, hammy is dying. There are no two ways about it. And to be honest, I kind of wish he would hurry it up. I know that sounds horrible, but caring for my girls’ geriatric hamster is as heartbreaking as it is time consuming. Not to mention the fact that I am guilt ridden by suspicions that I may be partially at fault for his irreversible demise. I fear that a severe lack of vitamin D leaking into his dark basement abode has surely played a role in the development of his bow-legged gait. And winter sun in Alaska is well…lacking to say the least. It is killing me to watch hammy slowly expire. I clean his cage regularly, I make sure he has fresh food and water, and I consistently take a warm wash cloth to his little eyes that seal shut with mucus almost as quickly as I can clean them. Yes, that’s right; I said I am cleaning hamster eye mucus. Now can anyone sympathize with my situation or am a just a horrible person? What I feel also needs to be pointed out is the fact that Raul (named by Lynn after one of the characters from “Phantom of the Opera”) is surprisingly not “Mommy’s” hamster. As many young children will do mine have shirked the responsibility of pet rearing which was once novel and exciting, leaving Mom to do the dirty work. Hubby has been begging for an English bulldog for years and fearing that the same situation will also arise, I have declined his requests. I must admit that over Christmas I almost gave in. Thank God that I did not, or I would now be raising 3 children, 1 hamster and 1 bulldog, solo. No thanks.
According to petsdoc.com, there is nothing unusual happening. Hammy is two and a half years old making him approximately 75 years old in human years. (The photo is one of hammy in more youthful days.) His dismantled gait, waning appetite and augmented sleep are all signs of impending passing. The life expectancy of a hamster is apparently only 2-3 years. In this case hammy has lived a good, long and full life. On top of everything else he is truly the only other adult companion I have at home. Unfortunately I do not speak hamster so my recent need to vent and participate in mature and intellectually stimulating conversation is left unmet.
One of the hardest aspects of a deployment is the loss of nighttime conversation. After the dishes have been put away, kids tucked into bed and the other end of day activities attended to, it is so nice to just crawl in bed with your partner and well, vent. Lately my emotional vent has been blocked due to lack of outlet. Friends and family have been the unfortunate victims of random 30 second phone calls meant only to let off a little steam. I feel like a little boiling teapot someone is holding their finger over so it can’t whistle. Eventually the steam burns the finger just enough that it lifts for a quick second letting out a quick shriek before I start to cool down again. This is not intended to mean that the only conversation I miss is the “bitching” for lack of a better word. I wish sharing JOY as well. I ran over 7 miles last week, the furthest I have ever run. I couldn’t wait for hubby to call so I could share my accomplishment. Three days later and still no contact with hubby, the excitement had faded and the run become a distant memory.
I am so thankful to have such wonderful friends and a supportive family that are always willing to listen whenever I need them. The problem is that you don’t want your friends and family to have to listen. That is a special privilege reserved for that dedicated person you marry who will love you no matter what late night, absentminded, crazy thoughts role out of your head. I know I am not alone in this. I am sure that my complaint is not much different than that of the single hardworking parent, recent divorcee, or someone who has lost a spouse or partner. My Mom lost her husband unexpectedly a little over a year ago and I know that she knows exactly the way I feel every night when she crawls into bed. The difference is of course that the other side of her bed will never again be filled by the love of her life, and the vacancy in mine is a temporary condition. This makes me feel guilty for even complaining.
The petsdoc website states that hammy will soon pass away peacefully in his sleep. Until then I will do my best to care for him and make his final days as tranquil and enjoyable as possible. I have loved the little guy. Hubby and I would sometimes get him out after the girls went to bed and let him run free for a little bit – something we would never allow the girls to do – mostly out of fear for hammy’s little life. We were like little kids ourselves stretching out our arms or legs out to each other to block him in and watch him run. Hammy has been a good little pet and although he is not really “Mom’s” I think that Mom will feel his passing more than anyone else, despite the wretched things I have said. Until then I guess I had better start taking advantage of any adult chat time I may have left and go check on hammy downstairs in his cage. And although I do not speak hamster, I bet Raul is a very good listener.
Well Raul I hope you go peacefully in your sleep. I hope the girls understand and it isn't a tragic event.
ReplyDeleteBesides the night chat before bed, I miss the simple hug. To know someone is there that cares. The moments you brush past each other while fixing dinner. The silent kiss as he leaves for work and I am still snuggled in bed, most of the time, out of it. Hang in there, before you know it dad's side of the bed will be filled again. =0)
Thanks friend. (PS - I hope your birthday was wonderful!)
ReplyDeleteLeigh does, just as many military wives do, only tell a portion of the story. They tell you things are bad, but they don’t say just how bad. Or they criticize themselves for not being stronger. In the case of my daughter, Leigh, she didn’t tell how important her Husband/Soldier was to me, at the time of my Husband’s death. My Husband was a retired Army Major, only 55 when he passed away. I met my Husband after he had retired from the US Army. He loved the Army and military life. He taught me what love and respect for one’s country is all about. When my Husband died, her Husband paid the highest respect possible to another Soldier; he checked my Husband’s uniform to be sure it was “squared away” before anyone else paid their respects to him. And then…he held me as the tears began to roll down my cheeks. He also went on to present me with the American flag given in honor of my Husband’s service to a grateful country. No son-in-law should ever have to present an American flag in honor of their 55 year old military father-in-law. Her soldier gave of himself to make it possible for all of us to move on in this game called life. I’m sure though, that my son-in-law was not the first to pay such an honor. Nor will he be the last. These men and women, young and old, are our SOLDIERS and they need our respect and support.
ReplyDeleteAs for Leigh, you bet she can vent to me…anytime…day or night. As she says, the love of my life will never fill his side of the bed again, but I know that. She and other soldier families wonder, on a daily basis, if their soldier will come home again. They wonder if the empty side of their bed will be filled with their soldier again. They don’t want to even think about it, but fear is a wretched monster in war. They wonder too, if their soldier will come home whole. Is it better to come home injured and scarred, than to not come home at all? Don’t get me wrong, Leigh has only talked about this once with me and this is her Husband’s 4th deployment. I am honored to allow my daughter to vent. It is my very small gift in this time of war, to one of my girls and her three daughters. I pray daily, for protection and safety for not only my son-in-law, but for all our soldiers. We all need to pray!
I love you Leigh and I admire your strength to carry on, your determination to keep things “normal” for your girls, and your remarkable courage.
PS. Raul is lucky to have you taking care of him! As I remember, we prematurely buried a few hamsters when you were younger, believing they had died, when in reality, they had hibernated due to the cold room they were in! Now we know!
Thanks Mom. Your hubby was a good man.
ReplyDelete