Memoir of a Murdered Hamster

I wrote this as an assignment for creative writing. It's a true story. Bear in mind that I was only five, and had no idea what I was doing when this occured!

It is a big responsibility to have a pet. You have to clean its cage every single week, you have to feed it, and keep it happy. Most of all you have to love it. The more you love your pet, the happier it will be, and the happier it is, the more it will love you. That’s why I love my hamster very much. I want it to love me too, so I play with it all the time and make sure that it is never bored or sad.

I am only five years old, but I am very responsible. I know how to keep my hamster, Beauty, very happy and make her love me. I know how to give her tiny pellets of hamster food and sunflower seeds when she is hungry. When her cage gets dirty, I clean out every piece of shredded tissue paper and replace it with fresh, new tissue paper. Because I take such good care of her, Beauty and I are best friends.

Sometimes me and Beauty play games, her favorite one is swing, where I swing her back and forth in my arms and she gets all jiggled and jittery. Another one she likes is racing. I help her get buckled in my Barbie car and push her in it around my bedroom, sometimes she jumps our, but I know that she actually likes it. Sometimes I help her balance on balls or slide down the little orange slide outside. I think one day she will be able to do these tricks on her own and will be famous for being the world’s smartest hamster, but right now I still have to help her.

One time something strange happened when Beauty was playing airplane with me. I was flying her around high above my head and we where having lots of fun together, when suddenly she went limp in my hand. When I put her back in her cage she didn’t get up and hide in her cardboard tube like she usually does, instead she just laid there. I started to cry big raindrop tears, spilling down my pink Lion King t-shirt. Beauty was dead! We had been playing a game and she was dead! Mom came and helped me stop crying, and then told me to look in the cage. Beauty was running in her hamster wheel just like she always did! She was ok! Mom explained to me that sometimes when hamsters feel like they are in danger, they pretend to be dead so that the danger will leave them alone. I guess airplane didn’t make Beauty feel safe, so I decided that we shouldn’t play it anymore.

Today I thought of a brand new game for me and Beauty to play. I would put her in my plastic drum with all of the other instruments in it, and then shake it so that she could slide and bounce on them. I excitedly pry her out of her cardboard tube and put her in the drum. What fun she was going to have! I wish that I could be the one who got to play in the drum! Too bad I was so big that I couldn’t fit. I gleefully started to shake the drum, up and down, left and right, around in a circle. I could picture her sliding on the metal cymbals, then bounce of the harmonica and have a crazy ride in there! “That’s long enough!” I say to Beauty as I pull of the lid of the drum. She is lying very still again, just like when she played dead a few days ago. I guess she didn’t feel safe in this game either. “Ok we won’t play this one again, ok Beauty?” I reassuringly tell her as I lay her in the shredded tissue in the bottom of her cage. “See you in a few minutes, after dinner!”

After dinner, I skip back to my bedroom to play with Beauty again. This time we will drive in her car, since the drum game wasn’t fun for her. Wait a minute, she still hasn’t woken up! I wonder why? That’s really strange. I run to get mom. “Mom! Beauty is playing dead again and won’t wake up!”

Mom gets a weird look in her eye. “Let me come see.”

When we get to my bedroom mom gets a sad look on her face. “How long has Beauty been asleep?”

“Well, I shook the drum with her in it and she has been playing dead ever since.” I explain.

Mom sadly says that Beauty wasn’t playing this time, she really is dead. I shook the drum too hard. I start to sob and sink to the floor as I realize what I have done. “I killed her! I killed her!” I wail as mom tries to comfort me. I stay there for a long time, and then although tears are still dripping from my swollen eyes I stand up and peer in the cage.

Beauty doesn’t look like she is sleeping, not anymore. She looks dead. Cold and dead. I am a very responsible five year old who knows how to feed, and clean, and love, and kill her hamster.