diary of a 20 something

Have you ever heard of a divorce hamster? Okay, maybe it’s not always a hamster. Could be a puppy. A cat. Maybe even a fish. The apology pet.

My dad dropped them off around Valentine’s day, a “sorry for not showing up to our visits, but here’s a hamster” kind of gift. My mom resisted taking on two hamsters in addition to her two daughters, but it was too late; we had already laid eyes on them.

The cage was made of multicolored plastic with a tunnel across the top and a squeaky plastic wheel built in. Inside it, two tan dwarf hamsters were waiting for us with their beady red eyes. Brothers like we were sisters.   

My hamster’s name was Brutus, after Brutus the Buckeye, Ohio State’s mascot, which I think was an attempt to connect with my dad in this new dynamic. 

Jillian named hers Tic Tac, our favorite thing to beg for at the grocery store checkout (the orange flavor of course). 

Despite being a consolation prize, we loved those hamsters. We played with them constantly, and looking back on it, “playing” was probably a form of mild torture. 

Brutus and Tic Tac had a translucent blue ball that they used to roam around our shared bedroom. They’d sprint in their plastic bubble until they rammed hard enough against something to dislodge the lid and make a break for it. *Queue the frantic search for a hamster among the toys and clothes piled in our closet.*

When one hamster was using the ball, the other would be placed in a Barbie car or a plastic pet carrier made for our stuffed animals. We probably scared those hamsters shitless as they rode shotgun next to Barbie or sloshed around the house via pet carrier.

I remember once my mom’s boyfriend at the time, Ibrahim, was over and we wanted him to play with us. We put Tic Tac in his hands and the hamster immediately latched onto his thumb with its tiny teeth. 

Jillian and I were drowning in giggles until we saw Ibrahim flicking his wrist violently, Tic Tac hanging by his teeth as he whipped back and forth. By the third shake, Tic Tac was soaring down the first few stairs of our loft.

Our laughs died in our throats as we heard a crack against the wall. I was sure Tic Tac had died. But no— he took to his little paws and ran. 

Tic Tac survived a near death experience, but in the end, it was Brutus who died first. We had only had the hamsters for a few weeks at this point but hadn’t had any qualms about their masculine energy (I now know male hamsters are extremely territorial). 

One night, while we slept, Tic Tac killed Brutus in cold blood. They fought over their shared territory, and Brutus lost. I found him dead in his cage the next morning, post-battle. I imagined them fighting to the death amongst their cedar shavings like rodent gladiators.

After many tears were shed about the unfair murder of my hamster, my mom took me to get another hamster, even though she was anti-hamster from the day my dad dropped off the pets without asking her.

This time, I chose a gray dwarf hamster with the same beady red eyes. He was aptly named Brutus Jr. 

Brutus Jr. had his own cage so that he would be safe from Tic Tac’s homicidal tendencies. It was rudimentary, none of the fancy bells and whistles of Tic Tac’s cage, but I knew Brutus Jr. would be safe. 

When it came time to clean his cage, I put in plenty of bedding to make sure he was comfortable. The next morning, he was nowhere to be found. Knowing there was no way he could’ve gotten out, I started sifting through the fluff to find my beloved (replacement) hamster. 

Brutus Jr.’s little body was cold and frozen in place. I was so devastated to lose not one, but two hamsters. I’m sure I prepared a burial for him, but I can’t recall where he rests. 

What I’ve now learned (thanks social media): there was a possibility that Brutus Jr. was not dead. He might have been undergoing a short-term winter hibernation of a few days. When hamsters hibernate, their bodies can become cold and still. I don’t remember checking for his heartbeat and little breaths. And at 25 I feel guilty, hoping I didn’t bury Brutus Jr. alive. 

And what became of Tic Tac?

Tic Tac, of course, died of old age (of a year and a half) in the luxury of his colorful, plastic castle.