The Hamster Has Risen.

I was thumbing through some moments in my life I had written down - I came across this one which I had almost completely forgotten about...

Apart from fish, it was my six year old daughter Nicola's first ever pet; a brown and white hamster which she uniquely named -'Hammy'.

'Hmmm', I suggested 'Sure you don't want a cool name like Hamish the Hamfisted?' My attempt to influence her failed miserably as she looked up and said,

'No Dad, it's Hammy.'

We didn't have a proper cage, so I cleaned out the goldfish tank (The fish had died when she fed them Cornflakes and felt tip pens - it was three days before I noticed) and gave her the talk on  'duty of care'.

We couldn't have a dog as we lived in a block of tenement flats with very little greenery or space for such an animal. A Hamster seemed the perfect compromise. And so she was charged with the responsibility of caring for an animal.

Three weeks later, much to my annoyance, Hammy was dead. Perfectly stiff, legs pointing perfectly heavenward, perfectly dead. I cursed myself for not having taken closer notice of him.

'I see he didn't have much in the way of water Nicola' I pointed out while examining the scene like a forensic scientist looking for clues.

'He didn't like water Dad'

'Oh really, what did he like?'

'Coke'

'Coke eh? Is that with a straw or straight from the glass?'

'Don't be silly Dad, from the glass.' After rebuking me she asked, 'Will he go to heaven today?'

There are times as a parent when you inadvertently put your foot in it, times when you should just keep your mouth shut, had I made the connection between six years old, 'heaven', as well as 'today', alarm bells would have been ringing...but I saw the chasm and jumped headlong into it... 

'Of course he'll go to heaven, he'll go this very day, I'll send him there.'

And so I briefly explained the way of all things as I turned the last little mound of earth over Hammy in our tiny back garden. 'Rest in Peace Hammy' I offered, with all the solemnity of saying farewell to a dear friend.

'He's still there' She said, pointing. 'He hasn't gone to heaven'. Then the tears.

I tried, believe you me I tried everything, I used theology, theosophy, philosophy and even the heart wrenching scenes from Bambi in a bid to explain things, but she was having none of it - Hammy was still under the ground, still dead, not in heaven. I had to think of something else - and fast.

I have a small sleight of hand trick I play with my kids...I can move something from one hand to the other quicker than the eye can see, and in a bid to ease her distress I resolved to dig him up once more, and that I would 'throw' Hammy to heaven. With a little bit of improvisation my sleight of hand should have been able to carry it off.

Encased in his little coffin of an inner tube from a toilet roll, I dug him back out with a spoon. She had been right of course, he was still there, still dead, not in heaven. Unseen by her I had loosened my shirt cuff and prepared my sleeve to receive Hammy during my sleight of hand. 

Holding him out in his little coffin I said something like 'Oh God we commend this little hamster into your care' and swung my arm heavenward and whilst doing so, tipped the inner tube of the toilet roll toward my sleeve to allow Hammy to slide in there.. At that very instant I realised Hammie had shot out of the tube on the upswing and really was making his way heavenward. She watched as he flew and rose...before tumbling back down at our feet with a thump. More tears.

Faced with such spectacular failure I thought of the only thing I could - 'I forgot to ask God to open the door Nicola...Sorry darlin'...silly Daddy' I said, picking him up ready to try once more. 

'We commend wee Hammy unto you God so OPEN THE DOOR!' I yelled, and once more went through the routine. This time I was going to put the entire roll in my sleeve and I felt the roll slip inside - only this time I glanced quickly to check Hammy was safely tucked up inside - he wasn't there. But he wasn't flying through the air either? 

'Yeah you did it Dad! You did it!' She yelled as I stood there wondering where the hell he was. 'You really did it Dad!'

It was a moment I'll never forget - the day I really did send a hamster to heaven, I'd reached out my arm to God and God had quickly slipped his hand down to mine and snatched wee Hammy upward. I felt so pleased with myself I thought about a treat...'C'mon Nicola, let's go inside, Ice cream all round I think.'

A few months later I had a little party and invited the neighbours so as to properly introduce myself. Pouring the elderly man who lived directly above me a drink, he rather fished around for something to say. Eventually he found the words - 'You ever have any trouble with Hamsters down here?' He asked.

'Hamsters? Trouble?...What kind of trouble?' I was genuinely surprised.

'You know anything about them?' he asked in hushed tones.

'Not a lot.'

Dimming his eyelids he scrunched up his face and said 'They can fly you know.'

Almost overfilling his glass I gasped 'What?'

'They can fly you know. Just a few months back I had my bedroom window open and one of the little buggers came flying in - landed on my bed...I killed it with a lamp-stand.'


Poor Hammy, I hope when I get there, he'll forgive me.