|Cute - but as cunning as a very cunning thing indeed|
Anyway, we've been away in Birmingham since Thursday and My Day Carer's hubby was press-ganged into popping in to feed and water him on a daily basis. We even leave the food out in short-glasses - weighed to the correct amount so that Ronnie doesn't accidentally turn the tiny hamster into a blimp.
So, we came home and I started unloading the car while Sonshine unlocked the back door. Fortunately, I called him to return to the car and uplift some of his stuff to take indoors, so *I* was the sadsack who entered the dining room first and found the hamster cage sitting on the floor.
It was all very odd - the hatch was wide open and the food bowl was sitting outside the cage on the floor. This could only mean one thing: Nibbles endless quest for freedom had paid off and he had legged it.
I could hear Sonshine dragging his case up the path and I quickly shut the hatch and put the cage back up on the table. That would buy me enough time to explain that his pet was rattling around the house somewhere. I wasn't looking forward to it.
Anyway, I am so brain-farted at the moment, I forgot all about it.
But the phone rang a short while ago and it was Ronnie - all concerned. Apparently he HAD shut and locked the hamster's cage, but not configured the locking mechanism (AKA the keyring) properly on Saturday night. On Sunday he had realised that the rodent was GORN and set out a trap for him. He laid a trail of food from a tiny hole through which the radiator pipe runs right up to the cage. Ronnie figured Nibble would need a drink.
I said that there was no food visible, so he HAD eaten it.
As we chatted, Sonshine was obviously ear-wigging and dashed through to the dining room.
Ah, thought I, here we go.....
We ended our telephone call and I padded anxiously into the dining room, expecting to find my son on his knees, weeping into the carpet and generally looking bereft. I had no idea what I was going to say, but my sleep-deprived mind would almost certainly think of something. Wouldn't it?
Unfortunately it did not.
Sonshine unlatched the front of the cage and opened up the Nibster's bed pod. And there, looking like a ginger tennis ball, lay a sleeping Nibbles.
'Prod him', I instructed Sunshine.
Reader, I am here to tell you that a hamster that has been prodded after being on a bender down the central heating system for two days looks looks just as violently murderous as Tartarus does if you prod him awake wickedly early in the morning after a holiday in Assen.
Hamster is fine (but tired).
Hestia relieved and going to lie down in a darkened room.
Possibly in beside the hamster -pissy and poopy straw notwithstanding.