Happy Birthday. Your hamster’s dead.

The fanfare and celebration that would have been enjoyed on my momentous 33rd birthday was tempered by the death of our little furball, Teddy.

The night before it happened, Marshall was afraid that she was dead as she took a very long time to respond to her cage being opened when he was filling up her food dish.

I was the lucky one who discovered her dead in her little plastic ‘peanut’ tube early yesterday morning. Telling Vinda that his pet had died was very difficult. I think I cried almost as much as he did. We had a little service for her in the back yard before bedtime. He threw in some fall mums before we covered her up (“If we put them on top of the dirt, Teeny Man will find them and take them”), and then picked a jellybean tomato (yes, apparently that’s a real variety of tiny tomato) from the garden and put that on top of the grave (not sure of the motivation on that one).

On a happier note, I got to eat dessert before dinner. Working until 7 on your birthday isn’t great, but getting to have your chocolate cake first so the little one can get to bed before your hamster’s funeral…well, that isn’t great either. But cake before dinner in happier circumstances would be.

This will go down as one of my most memorable birthdays. So much happiness and sadness all rolled into one whirlwind day. We’ll miss you, Teddy.



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