Our hamster has died
His name is Felix. He lived a long time, was always friendly and peaceful to be around. Two days ago he was taking pieces of carrot from my hand, then he seemed muddled and then today my wife found him in one of his his tubes, dead.
There are so many things to say about Felix. There was the way he reacted to us, always coming out of his nest at the sound of my voice. There was the way he was gentle with our fingers, and the time when he escaped he decided to come back again. OK, I know about anthropomorphism, and I also know that Felix made his choices. I liked his individualism and his attention to detail, so much like me. In the moment of his big adventure, he chose safety and what he knew. Maybe I would do the same.
He is in the kitchen, in a little box with his name on it. He will be missed.
What are your experiences with the life and death of a pet animal?
A.
My condolences on the passing of Felix. My wife and I have had a menagerie of pets pass through our house over the decades, but cats have always ruled the roost. We tried to keep hamsters for a while, but they didn't mix well with the cats. In order to keep them from being eaten for any length of time, we had to put their habitrail up on top of a bookshelf. They went from being eaten by the cats when escaping, to taking a leap of faith off of the bookshelf when escaping, equally resulting in their demise, though in a much quicker fashion. After the Second Hamster Bookshelf Suicide, we gave up on the little rodents, and got a guinea pig. We went on vacation, and left a friend to care for the pets, he thought the guinea pig looked lonely, so he put a plant next to the cage to keep it company. The plant was not real, but rather made of plastic, but our guinea pig decided it looked edible anyway. The guinea pig did not survive.
The next rodent to enter the house as a pet was a rabbit, at the behest of our son, who was in first grade at the time, and kept drawing pictures of rabbits he wanted one so bad. A friend had bought a rabbit for his mother for Valentine's day (or Easter, or something), and she had no interest in keeping it, so we took the rabbit in, and our son named it Monkey. Monkey was a large and fabulous rabbit, and he was the first rodent that could actually stand up to our cats. If they came anywhere close to Monkey, he would give them the thumping of their lives with his back legs, and then just jump around in circles, taunting them. Monkey lived 6 years, which is about two years longer than the other two rabbits who followed. The cats never went near his successors, Lunchbox, and Chasing Amy.
On to those wonderful cats. The first cat we adopted as a couple, Sasha, was not the friendliest of cats. She had no love at all for the two miniature humans that invaded her home not long after we adopted her. After about a decade she eventually warmed to them, and in her old age she did get quite friendly. It was in her old age, however, that the kids gave her a new name "Undead Kitty". Seriously, Sasha just would not die. At the end she has lost most of her hair, all but one tooth, and had lost track of the litter box. She wasn't incontinent, she just decided that the kitchen table was a better place to do her business. She never got up on the table, except to do her business. As she was 22 years old at the time, and we were unable to correct her behavior, we had her put to sleep about a week later. It was tearful for my wife and I, but the kids had suffered many scars from Sasha the Undead Kitty over the years, so they got over it quickly. Our daughter had even contracted Cat Scratch Fever from Sasha at one point, so the kids had constructed a mythology around her stealing their life force each time she scratched them.
The worst loss for us was Simba. Simba was an Egyptian Mao, and by far the kids favorite pet over the years. He was the polar opposite of Sashsa, fun and friendly. He always kept his claws sheathed when playing with the kids, and he always wanted to be in someone's lap. He also had a fondness for pizza, and would steal it directly from your plate if you let him get near enough. When we first brought Simba home at 8 weeks old, we had a mixed rat/wire terrier named Misty who Simba loved to play with. Simba would attack Misty until Misty got tired of him, and then she would pick Simba up, head first, in her mouth, and carry him around until he was coated in dog slobber, then let him go to clean himself in the corner. Simba lived to be 18, which was a miracle, as at a year old x-rays revealed that he had a heart defect, and he was not supposed to live past 10.
Our most recent loss was Milkshake, an orange tabby we picked up as a stray one particularly cold winter (2004), the vet estimated his age at 5 at the time. Milkshake was a bit of an asshole to the other cats, and while generally friendly to humans, he was prone to get tired of petting after a while, issue a war cry, and then attack you if you continued to show affection. We still loved the little shit head, though. Last year Milkshake lost a lot of weight, and eventually took a turn for the worse, the vet said it was just old age, and there was nothing we could do. He just lost his appetite, and had not other issues except for weight loss. We were on vacation in Florida last November, and our kids were taking turns coming over to care for the pets. Our daughter found him dead on the back stairs the day before we were to head home. She was an emotional wreck about it, so we had to call our son to bury Milkshake in the back yard. The grave still seems fresh, and I chocked up a bit thinking about the little bastard just now.
Finally, we had a scare a week ago. We have two cats in the house now, both are geriatric. We have a 15 year old Siamese, and a 16 year old Maine Coon. Our Maine Coon, Emily, stopped eating, started getting weak, and eventually collapsed on the floor, bleeding from the mouth. We immediately took her to the vet. The bleeding was the result of ulcers in her mouth, which had ruptured, and that was likely the cause of her not eating as well (the ulcers, not their rupturing). The vet noted that she was dehydrated, and she also had an extremely low Red Blood Cell count. They wanted to do a blood transfusion, but we did not want to go to that expense, as she is old and has lived a long, happy life. It was touch and go for a few days, but we nursed her back to health, and though her appetite is still suppressed, she was doing much better when we took her back to the vet last night. She looks like she will likely make a full recovery.
Sorry for the long post, but as noted, we have had a menagerie of pets through the years, and I only really touched on the highlights with this post.
I don't really like cages, but of all the small animals, hamsters find a lot to do and don't seem to mind living solo. We always have one which has been left in the shop, unwanted or returned. 
