Flash and Me

So we're on the way home from the movie Marley and Me. No one is saying a word; we're all too emotionally distraught. I'm thinking of John Grogan's (Owen Wilson) soliloquy, reminding us how dogs don't care about material things and how they love us unconditionally. Of course, this is true of our own family dog, Molly, and most dogs in general I think.

Then my thoughts turn to Flash, our hamster.

Flash has been with our family now for, well, longer than any other hamster we've had. But I have prepared myself for his departure -- I know all to well that a hamster today doesn't guarantee a hamster tomorrow.

Flash. So dear to our family. When he or she (we're not sure)is gone, what won't we miss?

...Like fighting over who gets to clean the cage...or trying to lure the panic-stricken motionless mouse out of the cage...or the aroma of the cage that houses poop that could have come from a small cat...or the neurotic grinding of the cage bars in attempt to escape...I must stop, lest I cry.

Hamsters seem to have only one expression, but no one can deny it's adorableness. It's the "are you going to kill me now?" look. You've seen it -- if not, just look at one my many photos of Flash. (I have almost as many as my kids.)

While I write this blog mostly in jest, likely I will be a red-faced, watery-eyed mess the day we lose him. Unless, of course, we find him in the laundry again. If that happens, the family will rejoice upon the reunion, we'll stick him back in the cage, and go back to watching TV.