Ginsey S

When You Give Ginsey A Hamster

All my life as a kid, I was a lucky one when it came to having pets, I mean, I can’t remember a time where there weren’t at least two animals in our house. Any six to fifteen year old would usually be astounded by the fact that I would have eight pets while they couldn’t even brainwash their parents into believing they could take care of just one, but even then, it wasn’t as magnificent as it seemed. In our household, the pets usually would “belong” to a certain member of the family, like it was just one person’s pet. That rule was obviously outrageous! I mean it’s pretty self-explanatory with just a glimpse at me that pets hate me, just like when I try talking to people. Anyway, let me just say that it can be a downer living in a house where all the pets despise you in some way. Honestly, there was no particular reason for the pets to resent me (that I know of); I guess I just give off that vibe that animas seem to be disgusted by. However, in the summer of ’10, it was finally my chance to shine. It was definitely a great day, if not the greatest.  Think about it, my own pet, one that was actually “mine”, I could name it, put it in my room, and play with it. Sweet baby Jesus, it was so exciting and overwhelming all at the same time I didn’t know what to do. That was the day where I, Virginia Grace Stephenson, was officially going to have a pet of my own; my time had come to get a hamster.

                  It was a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon, the whole family had gathered into the car to head home when a thought crossed my mind, “Hey! Today is a great day to get a hamster.” I had been pestering my parents about it for a little while, so of course that means they’ll say yes, even though they said no every other time I asked. “Mom, can I get a hamster?” I asked. “I don’t know, you can ask your father I guess,” she responded with a deep sigh. Since he was in the car, he definitely heard what we both said, so he responded, “I guess…” I was over the moon, that day couldn’t have possibly gone any better.   

                  As we drove to the pet store, I sprinted out of the car like a cat chasing a mouse, and threw open the door filled with all of my might.  Realizing I had no idea which way the hamsters were, I thought it would be a great idea to slow down and take a deep breath. Then, right as my parents stepped through the door, I took my calm, and totally non-excited self and dashed towards them tugging on their shirts begging to go to the hamster section. When we eventually reached the hamster section I nearly died. They were all so tiny and cute my 11 year old heart couldn’t handle it. A worker had come over asking if we needed and help, and after taking a look, I knew which type I wanted.  While the specific name of the type of hamster is slipping my mind, I was in love with them. The worker took the box, placed it inside the case with all the hamsters, and waited for a hamster to climb in. Once the hamster crawled in the box, the worker closed it up and handed it to me. I was in a state of complete happiness after that.

                  Days after taking the hamster home, I came up with the name Reese’s because she was a light brown, with a hint of chocolaty brown throughout her fur, and small patches of white, reminding me of peanut butter and chocolate. She was a very timid hamster at first, but after a while I could tell she was warming up to me. I was more than wrong. That hamster couldn’t have hated me more than Harry Potter hated He Who Must Not Be Named. When I tried playing with her, she pooped all over my floor, when I tried to hold her, she squirmed and hid in the back of the cage, and one time she even bit me. I guess I couldn’t blame Reese’s for biting me, I mean, I did poke her, but my intentions were good, I just wanted to make sure she was alive! She was definitely alive. It was nothing like I had expected, and by that point I was disappointed, I finally got my hamster just for it to hate me.

                  Months had passed, and Reese’s was getting fatter and lazier. I was terrified that she was going to die from being way to over weight for a hamster; however, I didn’t want to put her on a diet and kill her from no food (my sister tried that once with her hamster, and well, the outcome wasn’t what she expected…it died, my sister’s hamster had died of starvation). The next best option was to get her to exercise, which sounded like an easy resolution to the problem, because hamsters love running in wheels. Although I was in a tough position, because my particular hamster wasn’t one for exercising, I would put her in the wheel and she would start to run, only to realize that she was exercising and so she’d crawl off the wheel and hide from me. She was a stubborn hamster, and really, I didn’t like her that much, mostly because she hated my guts, but one thing came clear to me, if you put a box in a case full of baby hamsters and separate it from its other hamster friends, they’ll grow up resenting you. At least I hope that’s the only reason why she hated me, that question is still unanswered.

                  A year after that, Reese’s passed away, from ironically enough, being too fat to move in her cage to reach the water. It was a tragic death, leaving me confused on how to feel. On one hand, she hated me, and didn’t want me to come anywhere near her, but on the other hand, she was still my pet, and I still cared for her. Either way, no matter what happened; I loved Reese’s even though the feeling wasn’t mutual on her behalf. It opened my eyes in to realizing to never take advantage of anything, from a hamster to your best friend, it doesn’t matter what it is, just appreciate what you have when you have it because life isn’t infinite, and it doesn’t matter whether you loved it or hated it, because one day it’ll all be gone. I know that if I could have just one more day with Reese’s, I would take it, because she didn’t have to love me, I loved her, and that was all that mattered.