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If you have raised kids (or been one), 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. I'm
serious, Dad. Can you help?"
I put my best hamster-healer statement 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.
"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 do 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, while gritting my teeth
together).
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, ya know,"
she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, ya 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?)
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.
"It's breech," 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 several more times with the same results.
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see
a pattern here with the females in my house?)
"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, a c-section?" 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, like most male species, they um... er.... masturbate.
Just the way he did, lying on his back." 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 wife 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.
"It's 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 with
laughter.
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