Bobby the Hamster is King

Ashley got soaked in yet another down pour that represents Glasgow’s wonderful late summer weather. She came home completely soaked and stomping about cursing the rain. She accused me of neglect for not birthing her in Florida or some other garden state where the sun shines regularly.

“Why didn’t you consider me when you were pregnant? Why didn’t you say to yourself ‘My child will hate Glasgow, I shall migrate to Australia’ Mum it could have been easier all round?” she whined as rain water cascaded onto the floor from her big giant amount of thick hair, it clung to her shoulders like soaking wet ship ropes.

“I didn’t consider you when I was pregnant because your internment inside my womb almost killed me!” I shouted back. I had suffered terrible during the pregnancy and almost died in a coma, as I had a horrible illness and that’s why I only had one child, I wasn’t medically allowed to have another baby, though making Ashley feel guilty for this is abhorrent, but she annoyed me for blaming me on the weather. So bring it on.

Luckily she laughed at me, she always does.

I decided on a trip to my niece Ann Margaret’s house. It is a fun house with many children and small animals. A bit like a petting zoo cum nursery, but only filled with kids that I love.

Ann Margaret has three kids, Shaun is 11, Abi is 5 and Julia is nearly 2 years old.

They have a cat called Squeak who is moody and slightly evil and hates being stroked. The have a rabbit called Tufty who is pathologically attracted to Squeak who HATES it.
They have a small goldfish called Bubbles who sucks on and drags the paraphernalia in its tank; therefore it rearranges the ferns and sunken ship into its very own floor plan, it may be a gay decorator in a past life.

They have a hamster called Bobby who up until last week had no personality, but more about that later. There is a guinea pig, who I have never seen but am assured exists somewhere in the house.

Squeak the cat is a surly dreary cat for one so young. No stroking or purring or playfulness with this beast. He skulks about the big tenement flat with an air of discord and glares at all who look at him. Poor Abi was desperate for a cat and she now owns one that has the personality of an angry disenchanted pensioner who demands food, prime couch space and no touching whatsoever.

Tufty the rabbit has learned no lessons from the spitting angry cat and would demand regular pretend rabbit-cat-sex and tried to hump the insane looking cat that constantly clawed at the poor wee black beast. The wee rabbit had to be neutered to halt the attempted cat rape incidents that the kids were constantly curious about. Too many questions arose from the kids for Ann Margaret to cope with. I thought it was funny; the cat glared at me when I laughed and I knew it was plotting some deep revenge.

Bobby the hamster was always quiet and his cage sat atop the rabbit hutch. Squeak the cat would often stare at Bobby and hiss at him, this stressed the wee creature so the cat and hamster were always kept apart, but with a busy household it was hard to keep this rule going. Especially when baby Julia left every door open in her wake as she explored her own home.

Last week Squeak was in his usual sentinel duty staring at the hamster. His nose right up at the cage, the hamster furiously tried to run five hundred miles on his wee wheel, but was getting nowhere away from the big moody cat.

Ann Margaret shouted “Squeak, stop threatening the hamster”

Squeak slowly dragged his head round to look at Ann Margaret and as he did this his big pointy papery ear peaked in between the hamster cage bars. Bobby saw his chance; he scuttled up and bit hard right into the cat’s ear. Squeak howled in pain and almost dragged the hamster cage off the hutch as the hamster would not let go.

The cat’s tail bushed into full toilet brush mode and finally escaped the jaws of Bobby the hamster. The cat ran up the walls terrified and squawked about the kitchen hissing and spitting in fear.

Bobby clung to the bars watching the cat scream, his beady eyes were taking in the whole scene. The rabbit was inside the hutch beneath peeping out to see what just happened to his beloved sex kitten, all hell broke loose as the animals screeched, hissed, thumped and rattled about their various cages!

Ann Margaret laughed her head off and checked the cat’s ear, it was fine, no skin broken, but he was even more surly and skulked off under the baby’s cot for some rest.

Bobby the hamster escaped last night, well I say escaped, Julia let him out, she is all for freedom in animals and often lets the rabbit out at teatime just to add to the melee that is her home.

Squeak spotted the hamster, Ann Margaret watched closely as the wee hamster strolled past the cat, looked at it and walked on. Squeak walked backwards away from it, Bobby looked like he may be wearing a wee leather jacket and carrying a flick knife, he was king of the Beasts now and nothing will stop his reign.

Squeak hid back under the baby’s cot. His spirit is broken, he will have to go back to threatening the goldfish who regularly rearranges his tank, and ignores the feline.