I am very sad. Sadder than I thought I could be about this. I wasn’t really keen on the idea when hyperjes first brought Pashmina home…Oh heck, here is the whole stroy, as far as I saw it:
hyperjes worked at a daycare center. They had a pet hamster there that was sort of “donated” several years ago. They obviously knew nothing of hamsters, as this hamster was a female and they named it “Mr. Furry”. :rolleyes: Well, hyperjes saw that “Mr. Furry” lived in sub-standard conditions. Her cage was never clean, and neither was she. So took the little bugger into her classroom and started giving her better care and much more frequent cleaning. It was A Good Thing ™ that she did. “Mr. Furry” responded well to this treatment, and bonded with hyperjes quite well.
Then one of the evil bitch supervisors who worked there decided that “Mr. Furry” needed to go into another classroom. This girl really was an asshole, and did it just to irritate hyperjes. She was like that. So of course, “Mr. Furry” once again got infrequent cleaning, and as a result got sick from sleeping in her own messes. hyperjes decided that was enough, and brought her home. Miss Bitch actually wanted to “let it go” in the wild. Moron. It was a damn 4 year old domestic hamster. What the hell is that about. Remember, folks, this is a professional daycare provider. But I won’t get started on that.
hyperjes brought “Mr. Furry” to my apartment and nursed her back to health with the help of some antibiotics. She then named the poor confused thing Pashmina, which is much more fitting for a hamster of such lady-like bearing. Life was good.
A few months later, I received a call at work from hyperjes, telling me that Pashmina had a huge growth on her side, like the size of a small superball. It had popped up eally quickly. (For perspective, folks, imagine having a tumor on your side the size of a basketball). hyperjes took Pash to an emergency vet, who did some quick pro-bono work. He removed the growth and replaced it with a plastic tube to help the injury drain of infection.
Imagine this poor hamster with a plastic tube sticking out of it’s side for a week. It was sad. I took it in to our regular vet for removal of the tube, and poor Pashmina smelled of death. I didn’t give her good odds. The vet removed the tube and a good deal of dying, decaying flesh from around the injury. (Now imagine that you have a great gaping hole in your side, bigger than a basketball, where your muscles are exposed to the world.) hyperjes cleaned this wound 3 or 4 times a day. Pashmina survived the ordeal, and actually rebounded, having more energy than ever. The only evidence of the tumor and subsequent surgery was that her fur grew in a bit more gray on her right side. This was all about 5 months ago.
Well, the rest is in that thread. She died about an hour and a half ago. I am more upset about it than I thought I would be. She really was hyperjes’s hamster, not mine. My mother never let rodents in the house, so I was never very comfortable with her. I always felt like I would break her. She was so little. But I did love her, even when she would wake me up with scritch**scritch sounds at night. Now I am going to miss those sounds.