I should be preparing for this year's El Dia de los Hammies, which this year is dip-themed. (I could explain how this relates to hamsters, but that's better done in the actual post with the photos of the end results.) For now, just know that this is on the menu:
- Feta Pine-Nut Dip
- Cotija "Dry" Salsa
- Oaxaca Bean Dip (changed from black beans to pintos because sometimes I give Mike a break)
- a small portion of Spicy Cheese Dip (because I just realized that I forgot to get ingredients for this one, but I may have just enough leftovers to pull it off)
- and....
The Attempted Reverse Engineering of Trader Joe's Cilantro Roasted Pecan Dip. This will be the real "feat of newness and adventure" that makes up the spirit of this yearly occasion. The other dips are just the warm-up, and yes, the fact that they are all cheesy in some way is deliberate and themey, and not just because I love cheese. (Not just.)
Per the cliffhanger of the last (400-page?) post, as of a week ago we have two new hamsters who will be enjoying El Dia with us this year. I see that the rodent gossip rags are already screaming out headlines like, "BRIDE FOR SHERMAN?!" and "NEWBIE HAM RUSHED TO HOSPITAL!!!", so I better clear some things up before a junior studio executive comes by with a reality show contract.
This is Susan:
We saw her in the pet store (yes, I know, I'm ashamed, but the SPCA is actually low on dwarf hamsters at the moment, but that's another story), and - completely to our surprise - there was an instant click. Mike and I looked at each and both said, "I want her!"
I don't know why. There was just something about her face and trotting little manner, all alone, the last of her litter, and so much older (13 weeks) than the other hamsters there.
Susan, who looks like a mix of Cordelia (colour, silvering on back, white markings) and Barnard (face, white markings), is completely sweet. After a week, she has stopped running away and will now let us pick her up and rub her. However, she loves to run in the wheel/saucer and is therefore very hard to photograph. Here's her nose:
(Click photo if you can't see it here.)
She also drinks and pees at least 4x as much as the other hamsters, which made me worry that she's diabetic. Off we went to Walgreens for ketone urinalysis strips. No reaction. Uh oh, could be a bladder infection. (But there's no blood or crying out, so...? Hm.)
Off Susan and I went to our amazing vets.
Oh, they're booked. And double-booked for Saturday. Oh. I guess the secret of their expert care is out!
However, the vets were as amazing as always, because a staffer asked me to wait so she could explain the situation to the doc and make sure it wasn't an emergency. He told her to tell me that it should be fine to wait until Monday, but if Susan stops drinking or starts to become lethargic, I should contact them right away and they'll find a way to see us.
Because Susan came from a pet store (I don't want to admit which one, but suffice to say that it's, gulp, a major chain), she is "guaranteed" for two weeks and could go back to the store for free vet care. But, I don't want her to endure a long car ride for who knows what kind of treatment, and I really trust our vets, who are literally just around the corner. So.
So. Cross fingers and hope that this will be sorted soon. She's a little darling. I hope I can get a photo of the lovely white shading across her back soon. (Mottled? Platinum? Just silvering? I don't know.)
(As for the rumour that Sherman has his eye on Susan, well, who knows? It's hard to think about that when there are four dwarf hamsters at the shelter. On the other hand, haven't we adopted enough from there over the years - 16 to 23, depending on how you look at it - to justify getting to make some of our own? Sherman's not getting any younger, so we'll have to decide soon, but not until Susan is pronounced fit.)
Meanwhile, see that "tiki" hut in the last photo? That's Cricket's #1 Super-A+ Hidey Hole. Edible hidey hole. Most of the stems, leaves, and flowers decorating the front half have since been gnawed away by Cricket.
Oh, and this is Cricket:
Cricket is fast. If you reach for her, she jumps. (Like a cricket! Also, who doesn't love Jiminy and his song? And isn't "Jemima" a fun feminine variation of "Jiminy"? But Mike doesn't like it, and not just because naming a little black hamster "Jemima" might be taken the wrong way.)
Cricket is all about that tiki hut, that saucer (pictured above), and peeing in the sand dish. That's right - both hamsters are already toilet-trained! (Something I've been missing since we started adopting older hamsters that were set in their ways and intent on modeling their examples to any younger hams.)
Cricket is nine weeks old. That means she was eight weeks old when we got her. And that means that it's super-sad that she had already been adopted and returned TWICE before we decided to bring her to our home.
So here's what happened: We're there, admiring the future Susan, when the antics of a spry little hamster in the habitat above catches our attention. Again, instant-click. But no way could we give up Susan! Okay, fine, we decide to get both and hope they can live together. (To jump ahead and relieve the tension: so far, so good. They're zonked out together in the tiki hut as I type.)
The staffer comes and unlocks the habitats so we can play with them. (Or rather, so I can stand on a stepstool and invade their living rooms with my giant hand. Honestly, how do people just point through the glass and say, "We'll take that one?" And yes, never mind that I did that with my dog when I was eight, and she was the best.)
(Ignore my thighs. Tight 1981-era cuffed denim shorts plus that position/angle were unflattering. Okay, so I could probably have used some toning to prevent the "splat" effect.)
(Ignore the rope, too. It's a long story. She was spoiled rotten, I promise.)
So, I put my hand in, and Cricket-to-be disappears, but her sisters come up and they are sweet, if a bit shy. The attendant then says, "Watch out for the one on your right - she's sneaking up on you."
And there was Cricket, about to latch onto my hand with her teeth and drag everything she could back to some secret lair.
Really. And just like Peter. Except where Peter was always gentle and funny, this little miss was starting to give me some very sharp nips.
And frankly? I didn't want another biteymouth. It has been a struggle with Snorre and Stephen. Those two can be very loving, and I'm so glad we have them, but - especially with Snorre - the biting and anxiety always comes back. A benefit to adopting a young hamster, in addition to toilet training, is not having to wrap a sock around your hand when you want to pick them up, right?
So, sure, she's cute, but do we really want to knowingly take in a biter? Plenty of hamsters looking for a home and all that, you know. Can't "save" them all.
I said as much to Mike, but he (with both of his hands safely three feet away), had really taken a shine to "the little one." And, really, I had, too. But I felt like we had to be practical, no matter how much I just wanted to scoop her up, take her home, and hope for the best. She didn't seem mean, just anxious.
"I should tell you," the attendant said, "she has already been adopted twice and returned twice."
"What? How old is she?"
"Eight weeks. And we only got her two weeks ago, so it's kind of sad."
"Why was she returned?"
"The first time, she bit a three-year-old. The second time, she bit the father."
Twenty minutes later, we were driving down the freeway with two new hamsters, Sixty minutes later, we were watching the two romp together in the playpen and sit in our hands to eat seeds. A week later, they are our content little princesses (really).
Cricket is still almost always too zippy to pick up (or hold onto), but she's never given more than the experimental fingertip bites. ("What's this? Is this food? Is it something that's going to poke me? I'm scared.") Those "bites" barely blip on the ouchie radar. And, she pretty much stopped giving them after the first day. Now she might gingerly latch onto my fingernail as she darts back and forth, unsure of whether to trust me, but that's it. Knock wood, I hope this is all progress.
You can't pet her (JUMP!), but she will come running out to see us. If there's food, she'll sit in the hand forever, eating. And when not saucering or nibbling, she's winsomely frolicking, rolling on her back in joy.
(Haughty lecture portion of the post: So, in conclusion, be patient, don't poke your dwarf hamsters, and remember that just because the pet is small that doesn't mean that the owner should be, too. Regular/non-dwarf hamsters, with their larger sizes and slower paces, are far better suited to most young people, even though their nocturnal regimens can be frustrating for those with early bedtimes.)
Along with Edith, Pepper, Sherman, Arthur, Stephen, Comet, and Snorre, we welcome Susan and Cricket to the hamily!
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