Hamster Family...

The Loony Bin ( loonies@bloodaxe.com )
Fri, 09 Nov 01 01:24:14 -0000


Hiya People...

Today we meet a man dealing with his family's pregnant hamster crisis...

Wishes & Dreams...

- ANDREA
        xx

*********THE LOONY BIN****loonies@bloodaxe.com*********

         Archive: http://loonies.net800.co.uk/

************ANDROMEDA******Internet Goddess************

  ------- Forwarded foolishness follows -------

 
The Hamster Story 

If you have raised kids, and gone through the pet syndrome including
toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you
laughing out LOUD!!! 

Overview - I had to take my son's hamster to the vet. Here's what
happened: 

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was
"something wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his 
room. 

"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. 

"Oldest trick in the book, son," I informed him. "You go in to see
what's wrong with the sick one and the other one sneaks up behind you
and bonks you on the head. Then they change into your clothes and
escape." 

"I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?" 

I put my best hamster-healer expression on my face and followed him into 
his bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back,
looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. Call the professional.
 
"Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!" 

"Oh my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."
 
"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!" 

I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we
didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife. 

"Well, what did you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she 
inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!) 

"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most 
loving, calm, sweet voice). 

"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed. 

"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys," she informed me. 
(Again with the sarcasm, you think?) 

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I 
shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. 

"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience!" I announced. "We're
about to witness the miracle of birth." 

"OH, Gross!" they shrieked. 

"Well, isn't THAT just Great! What are we going to do with a litter of
tiny little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think
she was being snotty here, too. Don't you?) 

"Well, when my parents' dogs had puppies, I took them up to the grocery 
store in a cardboard box and gave them away," I recalled.
 
"So what are you going to do, go up with a pair of tweezers so people
can pick out their hamster?" she asked. (Gotta love her!) 

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny 
foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. 

"We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted. 

"A breech birth," my wife whispered, horrified. 

"Do something, Dad!" my son urged. 

"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it
next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried again,
with the same results.
 
"Should I dial 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they
could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with my
females?) 

"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. 

We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. 

"Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged. 

"I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can
be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing,
but this boy is "of her womb", for God's sake.) 

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little 
animal through a magnifying glass. 

"What do you think, Doc, an epidural?" I suggested scientifically.
 
"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak
to you privately for a moment?" I gulped, nodding for my son to step
outside. 

"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked. 

"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in labor. In
fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy." 

"What!?" 

"You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into
maturity, male hamsters will, master, er, er, ah..." He blushed,
glancing at my wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron." 

We were silent, absorbing this. 

"So Ernie's just...just...excited?" my wife offered.
 
"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
 
More silence. 

Then my viscous, cruel woman started to giggle. And giggle. And then
even laugh loudly. 

What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman
I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless Manliness. 

Tears were now running down her face. 

"Just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its...its...teeny little..."
she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
 
"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly
bundled the hamsters and our son back into the car. He was glad
everything was going to be okay.
 
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me. 

"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing into laughter as I
gave her a dirty look. (And women have the gall to go though the
marriage ceremony with a straight face!) 


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