The Hamster Obsession Chronicles Part 1

I’d like to start this series with a recollection that isn’t quite positive. When I was 14, a kind friend gave me two hamsters for my birthday. I thought it too generous of her, but she insisted, and I was so delighted I said okay. I didn’t ask my mum beforehand, because i was secretly certain that she would object.

I took Trixie and Fudge home, a white pudgy female and a skinnier, handsome brown male. I can’t for the life of me remember now if they were Syrian or dwarf, although I suspect they were the former, and the pet shop owner had given me poor advice, either because he was keen to make a quick buck, or because animal welfare wasn’t that important, or equally likely, that he himself was ignorant. He told me to feed them a hamster mix that comprised corn and sunflower seeds, and promised me that they would get along like brother and sister.

He also said that whenever they stank that I should bathe them, and it was okay to give them papaya. He said they were easy to take care of, since they were so cute.



Well my parents hated them from Day One. They were smelly and dirty and caused diseases and most importantly, troublesome.

Anyway, because of my ignorance, they mated. And then Trixie turned aggressive and I had to separate her from Scotch. She had an unsuccessful litter, eating all her babies. A few weeks later she somehow managed to escape from her plastic cage. We looked high and low, inside and outside the home, but we never saw or smelt her every again.

Fudge remained super cute and obedient, but it didn't cross my mind to take him out of the wire cage more often. I was also busy and lazy and didn’t bother cleaning his cage or feeding as often as is necessary. I do not know if it's old age or my improper care that caused Fudge to die. My mother binned him unceremoniously, and my sister wrote me an accusing and honest letter telling me I’d caused his death, complete with an illustration. Writing this now still fills me with shame and sadness. I don't have any pictures of them nor with them, and I don't know where that poignant letter has gone.

Animals are a huge and important responsibility. I have my own apartment now, so mum can't complain, and even took a polite interest in my furry friends, commenting that they looked quite nice. I do my best for my rescued furries, giving them attention, providing clean, safe and comfortable bedding and nutritious, appropriate foods. In return my hamsters have given me hours and hours of love and delight.

But it doesn’t remove the blood on my hands. There is no place for frustration, blind curiosity or neglect, whether your beloved pet lives a year or ten. If you can’t cope, don’t begin, or find someone more responsible than you are. It’s bad enough that they are under our care, the least we can do is educate ourselves, in order to give them comfort and familiarity.