dances with hamsters
Evening at the Chateau de Healy.
I'm sitting in the front room trying to watch Star Trek.
MC Hamster is sulking in her cage.
She really is.
I wouldn't have believed such a small animal could sulk.
But God has crafted dignity into everything he created.
Even the littlest things.
She is lying in the centre of her cage in a state of sullen lassitudinous protest. Her body limp. Her head resting on the edge of her wheel.
She adopts this pose after I've been playing with her and returned her to the cage too soon.
She's maintained it tonight for fully half an hour.
"It's no use Hammy," sez I in some exasperation. "I'm not taking you out again. I've been playing with you for ages. You've already been out twice today. If you'd sit still when I take you out, like you're doing now, then it would be different. But I know the moment I release you from that cage, you'll be all action again. There's no use staring at me. I'm not doing it. Look. You've got the biggest cage in Ireland. There's hamsters who would love to be living there. Get up on that wheel and have a bit of a run. I can't be playing with you all the time. It's your own fault anyway. I'd buy other hamsters for you to play with only I know you'd kill them. Yes I've read all about that. Hamsters won't socialise with other hamsters except for mating purposes and even then there's liable to be trouble."
Hammy moved from the centre of her cage to the bars and grasped them poignantly.
Her Prisoner of Zenda routine.
This is very difficult to resist.
Sternly, I turned my attention back to Star Trek.
Captain Kirk was in a fist fight with someone who was trying to take over the universe or something.
The usual.
When next I looked at the cage, Hammikins was standing upright on two legs back in the centre, her body half turned away, her eyes locked accusingly on me.
She might have been the Phantom of the Opera.
I could nearly see the cape.
"Hammy," I mused, "I thought you were supposed to have very bad eyesight. You're not supposed to be able to see an inch in front of your nose."
Her big black eyes never left me.
Presently I got up, walked across the room and took her out of the cage.
"You needn't look so smug," I told her. "You're going straight back in, as soon as the McCain Obama debate starts."
I'm sitting in the front room trying to watch Star Trek.
MC Hamster is sulking in her cage.
She really is.
I wouldn't have believed such a small animal could sulk.
But God has crafted dignity into everything he created.
Even the littlest things.
She is lying in the centre of her cage in a state of sullen lassitudinous protest. Her body limp. Her head resting on the edge of her wheel.
She adopts this pose after I've been playing with her and returned her to the cage too soon.
She's maintained it tonight for fully half an hour.
"It's no use Hammy," sez I in some exasperation. "I'm not taking you out again. I've been playing with you for ages. You've already been out twice today. If you'd sit still when I take you out, like you're doing now, then it would be different. But I know the moment I release you from that cage, you'll be all action again. There's no use staring at me. I'm not doing it. Look. You've got the biggest cage in Ireland. There's hamsters who would love to be living there. Get up on that wheel and have a bit of a run. I can't be playing with you all the time. It's your own fault anyway. I'd buy other hamsters for you to play with only I know you'd kill them. Yes I've read all about that. Hamsters won't socialise with other hamsters except for mating purposes and even then there's liable to be trouble."
Hammy moved from the centre of her cage to the bars and grasped them poignantly.
Her Prisoner of Zenda routine.
This is very difficult to resist.
Sternly, I turned my attention back to Star Trek.
Captain Kirk was in a fist fight with someone who was trying to take over the universe or something.
The usual.
When next I looked at the cage, Hammikins was standing upright on two legs back in the centre, her body half turned away, her eyes locked accusingly on me.
She might have been the Phantom of the Opera.
I could nearly see the cape.
"Hammy," I mused, "I thought you were supposed to have very bad eyesight. You're not supposed to be able to see an inch in front of your nose."
Her big black eyes never left me.
Presently I got up, walked across the room and took her out of the cage.
"You needn't look so smug," I told her. "You're going straight back in, as soon as the McCain Obama debate starts."
posted by heelers | 4:45 AM
4 Comments:
Perhaps if you played her that annoying hamster dance music that used to be all the rage on the internet, hmmm....?
The only music she likes is The Simpsons theme.
J
I thought her name was MC Hamster?
So you watched the debate?
I did too! I thought Mcain showed humility and humor at the same time getting to the point!
Kat
Kat.
MC Hamster is just her stage name!
And yes I think McCain showed great humility and humour on the night.
Seven thousand bucks' worth in fact!
James
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