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Saturday, March 06, 2004

I just looked and I got a comment from the wonderful Mental Office Girl Who Cooks. She suggested I re-fashion the story of Zeus and the Titans to star hamsters. Beth also liked my idea of sea-faring hamsters, adrift in the Atlantic in walnut boats, amidst all those Irish witches in their eggshells. Hmm, wait! They will be pirate hamsters! Too bad I lost all the notes I took during my elementary school pirate infatuation. Oh rats, I guess I have to make another trip to the library.

All this talk of hamsters, now let me tell you what Anisoara did last night. (Or, "The Exciting Friday Nights of a Young Lady and Her Perilous Hamster.")

Again, I decided that Anisoara should taste unbridled freedom, unencumbered by the hamster ball. So I let her have free reign of the hamster-proof bathroom while I again completed my nightly toilette.

Again she wanted to clamber up my legs. This time, my pyjama pant legs proved more conducive to hamster-climbing. But she tickled my ankles. So badly were my ankles tickled, I nearly fell over. At one point, she got as far as mid-shin, lost her grip, flipped over backwards, and screamed a hamster squeak before she hit the bathroom floor cushion. Most hamster scholars claim that hamsters are silent creatures. Anisoara is the delightful exception.

When I leaned down to pick her up, she ran up my arm and onto my back. Hamster massages tickle too! Plus, a hamster walking on one's back feels the same as a tarantula walking on one's arm.

This morning, Anisoara was curled in her nest of newspaper and tissue like a little maggot.

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