the origin of species

Evening at the Chateau de Healy.
I am flumped in an armchair disapproving of Southpark.
MC Hamster is flumped on the wing of the armchair.
We make quite a picture.
Occasionally I look over at the golden mouse a tad fondly.
"Why did God make hamsters?" I wonder aloud during a brief televisual intermission. "I mean what on earth was he playing at?"
Hammy thinks for a minute.
"He probably just wanted to make something nice," she answers finally.
"Yes but why did he make the only really cuddly member of the rat family and then hide it in Syria for ten thousand years?" I persist philosophically.
Hamster fans will be well aware that every hamster in captivity across the world is descended from a single nest of hamsters unearthed in Syria in the 1930's.
Before this hamsters were unknown to the human race.
(And the ghost of Robert Palance bursts in breathing heavily, looks from the screen at the readers of the Heelers Diaries and intones: "Believe it... or not." - Ed note.)
"Don't start insulting Syria," warns Hamilcar.
"Is it an insult to you or to Syria when I say I'm always worried you're about to put on a suicide vest any moment, shout something along the lines of Hamsters U Akbar, and self detonate," I muse.
The golden mouse fulminates silently about this discourteous badinage.
Paddy Pup arrives and puts his head on my knee.
"Lot of hamster talk going on here today," he woofs softly. "Lot of talk about an animal I'm not even allowed eat."
"You're too good a dog Paddler to ever really want to hurt Hammy," I tell him. "I thank God for you every day. And it must have been easy for God to make hamsters compared to dogs. Dogs must have been a lot more difficult. Because you're so good. Yes you are. So good."
"Hey," cries Hammy peevishly.
"Well think about it," sez me. "With hamsters all he had to do was zap pow and there you were. Little golden tennis balls. Little golden tennis balls that like running around on wheels and washing themselves all the time. That can't have been too hard. But with dogs he had to shade in a million nuances of loyalty, companionability, character, courage, and love."
"Hey," cried Hammy again, a bit more affronted this time.
Paddy Pup for his part was positively beaming.
"What about us?" sang out Greeny and Mr Blue the budgerigars from their cage in the hall. "How did God make us? And, er, why?"
I considered the probable mystic origins of budgies.
"I think with you guys God had probably just fallen asleep," I postulated. "Some people walk in their sleep. Maybe God sometimes creates things in his sleep. Somcreationism, the theologians call it. There was a lot of work going in the creation and he might have gotten tired. He was probably having a particularly wacky dream and when he woke up there you were. Either that or he just wanted to make an animal that would cheer people up enormously for no logical reason."
You know what bold readers.
I think my Origin Of Budgies theory may shortly be in the text books.
I'd say I'm closer to the truth than Charlie Ephin Darwin anyway.