Elegy for a hamster

I was just getting used to the little guy. He no longer tried to bite me when I picked him up, and would even come out of his little sleeping pod for a friendly visit. He seemed to enjoy being pet and having his little tummy rubbed.

My husband thought having a pet would be a great idea. It would be a good opportunity for our children to learn responsibility for another creature, and to learn the painful lessons of grieving before, G-d forbid, well, anyway...

We didn't expect it to happen so soon. Before bed, my son went to check on his hamster and spend some quality time with him. He came out, clearly distressed. My husband and I went in to inspect the little guy, and we knew his time had come. He lay in his pod, shivering and unresponsive.

I rushed my husband out the door and sent him to the emergency pet hospital. My son and I paced and worried, and snuggled on the couch together praying for the best. We got the call from the hospital, "Chomp didn't make it. They had to put him down."

My son and I held each other and sobbed. You know, I said, you did a great job taking care of him. You cleaned his cage each week, you made sure he was fed and his water bottle filled. He really loved you. There wasn't anything we could do. He just got sick.

My boy turned his red and puffy eyes up at me and whispered, "I know." We cried and I held him some more and then I sent him to bed.

What's the Shiva period for a hamster? I asked my husband. "Seven minutes." Came the terse reply.

It's been less than a week and we've moved on. The empty, cleaned out cage still serve as a reminder of the extra little presence in our lives. My son seems to be over his heartbreak, but I can't shake the feelings of loss and sadness. Every time it's too hot or too cold in the apartment, I think about our little rodent.

That's it for me: no more pets.

I can't wait for winter break. All of us are getting a bit antsy around here. It's getting harder and harder to get my kids to practice piano these days, and their recital is only three weeks away. It's also getting harder to get homework done. It's not just the kids. I'm also struggling to stay focused. Every time I start to think about my Thanksgiving menu, my brain wanders.

We're not planning a huge Thanksgiving dinner; a few close friends, a few stranded law school students. But, I can't get past turkey, stuffing, and sweet potato pie. When I start to think about soup and salads, my mind goes blank. At least I remembered to start defrosting the bird in the fridge. I'm thinking garlic roasted potatoes, blanched green beans or roasted brussel sprouts. Quinoa or wild rice? I'm imagining a cold cranberry relish or maybe a hot cranberry sauce served in a small baked pumpkin, or squash. I'm planning apple pie, maybe pecan? Pumpkin soup? Maybe that, too. Would a chocolate cake be overkill?

Either way, the cooking begins tomorrow!

Lost in the menu planning is the reminder to be thankful, so here goes: I'm thankful for my wonderful family who love me, support me, and at the worst of times, put up with me. I'm thankful for my friends who always make me feel like I'm not the only one who (fill in the blank), and that whatever it is, is perfectly normal. I'm thankful for the people in my life who make me laugh, and let me cry.

And I'm thankful for the furry rodent who shared his short life with us.

Rest in peace, little Chomp.