Honey is my second hamster. He was so tiny when I purchased him on May 15, 2013; he was just a little baby guy and so sweet from the very beginning. I named him Honey because he was the color of honey. When he reached maturity, I also discovered he was of the teddy bear variety with the gorgeous longer coat that flowed out in irresistible, cuddly fur. Sometimes I clipped it back although he was handsome either way.
When Honey was about a year old, I noticed he did not seem to feel well, and a trip to the veterinarian now made my $12.99 pet increase in value! It was worth it to see him active and happy once again as I followed the advice of the vet to change his diet. From then on Honey had four peas daily, and a pinch of oatmeal along with his regular rodent food. Unlike Hank (my first Hamster), Honey did not have a sense of adventure. Honey liked to ride around in a pocket and didn’t try to escape. He was content to play on my lap for awhile then was happy back in the familiar surroundings of his habitat. I loved each of my hamsters equally.
Yesterday Honey breathed his last. About a month ago I noticed something on his hind leg and we made yet another trip to the vet. It was a tumor. It was a rapid-growth variety. Honey did not run on his wheel the last two weeks he lived. The tumor was in his way. To keep him comfortable, I administered a daily dose of pain medication that the vet recommended. The last two days Honey made it from one end of the habitat to the other to use his bathroom place he choose for himself when just a wee baby. He did not hurry back to the sleeping place but he made it back with a rest in between. He ate until just a few hours before he took his last little breath.
So, just a few minutes ago I dug a hole in the ground and laid him to rest. My heart is heavy. Until the last two days I didn’t really realize how much company Honey was for me. Books on hamster care say that hamsters don’t receive or give love. They never met my Hank, or my Honey. Only once did Honey bite me and it was because I surprised him.
I am just a softie for almost any animal, but I really like my hamsters. Will I get another one? Probably. The average life span of a hamster, I am told, is 2-3 years. Will I become attached again? Probably.
I am not ashamed to tell you, I have tears.
If I can love and care for a hamster like my Hank, and my Honey, surely I can understand the expanse of God’s love for me. This evening I am comforted by the everlasting arms of God. He understands my sorrow at having to bury my little furry and funny pets. Deuteronomy 33:27 is a precious promise.
For stories about Hank, just type “Hank” in the search box. Maybe I’ll try a female hamster next time–Hannah, or Harriet? If another guy hamster allures me, he might be Herman. I like euphony.