WHEN PETS PASS AWAY... BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

 

WHEN PETS PASS AWAY…

BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

You’ll notice I didn’t title this piece COPING WITH THE PASSING OF A PET. I could no more tell you how to do that than I could advise you on stocks and shares. I can’t even bring myself to use the ‘D’ word in reference to the demise of a pet. It’s a topic I find very emotional, so I figured maybe it was time I wrote about it and tried to make sense of it.

My kids and I kept hamsters from October 2017 to  October 2022. During this time, we constantly had hamsters living with us in the house. The Last Ham passed away in October 2022, leaving us pet-less for the first time in five years.

This was a horrible shock to the system, I can tell you. My daughter told us- my son and I- that she didn’t feel able to care for any more pets for a while, certainly that side of Christmas. As she’s the one who typically does all the grunt work for the little critters, we had to respect this.

We were all devastated, though. A Christmas without hamsters? Where was the fun in that? No wrapping tiny presents for the little laddies and lasses to tear open on Christmas morning with their sharp little teeth and paws? No putting bits of Christmas dinner on tiny doll plates for them to wolf down over the festive STRICTLY COME DANCING?

Believe it or not, every ham who lived through the winter with us watched STRICTLY with the family. They loved the theme tune and the jaunty, upbeat music. They loved Christmas music in general and the sound of music boxes; it’s so full of the sparkly, tinkly little riffs they love. They’re a musical lot, hammies.

One of our hams, an elderly lady who’d been surrendered to the shelter because the couple who owned her were having to leave their house and couldn’t bring her with them, used to come running out of her little log cabin every time my daughter put GAME OF THRONES on the DVD player. Maybe her previous owners had been fans of the show. My daughter swears her ears pricked up to their utmost extent when she heard spoken Dothraki…!

Hamsters are often purchased by people who want a low maintenance pet who’ll amuse itself. Low maintenance? My eye. We always found our hamsters got used very quickly to the high standards at our hammie hotel: fresh food and water round the clock, cuddles on demand, toys and little boxes and tubes to play with.

They adored little boxes, and getting themselves stuck in toilet roll tubes so that we’d have to make nee-naw noises like the ambulance and come fish them out, then they’d have these big adorably cheeky grins on their faces and, the minute they were free, they’d go right back in the box or tube and get stuck again…! It’s like when a baby plays let’s feck all these toys out of the pram and see if The Adult can be prevailed upon to pick ‘em up…

I’m a big reader myself, and the lazier of the hams used to snooze on my lap or on my chest for hours while I read. These were my favourite hammies, and funnily enough, these lazy ones were all brown or golden brown Syrian hamsters, whereas the pure white ones favoured by my daughter tended to be more active.

I also proved very popular with the poor little sick hams who were preparing to cash in their chips, as I could sit with them for as long as they wanted and cuddle and sing them to sleep, which was such a privilege and so lovely to do. And, no, they never complained about my singing!

They were so funny, so loving and so cuddly, and yet, when they were fed up with you and wanted to spend time alone, they’d slink back into their little huts and not come out again until they felt like it, unless of course you crinkled bags of rodent treats (yes, they do technically belong to the rodent family) at the entrance to their nests, and even that wouldn’t work every time.

In a way, they were experts in self-care; slept and ate when they wanted, came out when they wanted cuddles and company, and nipped off home sharpish when they were bored of being sociable. You might come into the room and hear them making pottering noises in their little nests, but, if they didn’t want to come out and be friendly, they’d go silent straightaway to convince you that you were mistaken; there’s no-one home…! Simultaneously needy and independent creatures that they are, we made so much love, fun and activity available to them that it brought even the most reticent of hammies out of themselves.

We anthropomorphised our hammies completely and utterly, that is to say, we imbued them with human characteristics and appearance. One grumpy little black long-haired hamster we called Dr. Hams because he kind of looked like a doctor, and we made it out that he was fond of money and charged five hundred dollars for every consultation. No-one outside the family would have a clue what we meant, probably, but we in the know laughed heartily whenever Dr. Hams pulled another imaginary but genius stroke…!

The boy hams and the girl hams more or less mirrored exactly their human counterparts. The girls were great home-makers and turned their bedding into delightfully frilled little rosettes. The boys were obsessed with their balls and could (and frequently did) give themselves teeny-tiny blow-jobs. No change there then, lol.

If you came across a ham of either sex either grooming or, dare I say, pleasuring, themselves, and they didn’t feel like having an audience, they’d very deliberately turn their back on you and make you feel like a Peeping Tom; it was so funny when that happened!

There were many vet visits, and much surprise expressed by many a Dublin city taxi driver that anyone would ever bring a rodent to the vet. There were happy taxi journeys home, with a ham that just needed an antibiotic and would be fine, and sad taxi trips when we would be returning home with the precious cremains of a beloved and loyal old friend.

We even bought a tiny nebuliser from the vet at one point to nebulise a darling little lady whose lungs were filled with fluid. She was terrified of the box and the steam but she stuck it out and it made her better. In fact, she was one of our longest-living and most dearly loved hams and was the last to pass away. God bless that feisty little girl. 

Like I said at the beginning, I’m not qualified to tell anyone how to get over the passing of a pet. I’m sadder than I could ever tell you about the passing of ours. This bunch of hamsters we had the privilege to care for from 2017-2022 were funnier, cuter, wiser, cuddlier and more loving than most people I’ve ever known. They each had their own independent personality and idiosyncrasies. They had as much right to be here as you and I, and as much right to decent accommodation and treatment.

I was brought up Catholic and believe in a People Heaven; therefore, I have no trouble in believing in a Doggie Heaven, a Kitty Heaven, or, in our own particular case, a Hammy Heaven. I like the thought of the Rainbow Bridge, and the thought that all our hammies are up there somewhere waiting for us. It’s the only thing that gives me comfort and their passings some meaning. So maybe I can advise you a little bit after all. When you lose a pet that means the world to you, just do, think and believe in whatever comforts you. It might be the only way to get through it.