On Hamsters

Well I think it's high time I introduced my boys to my blog and readers. Blog and readers, my boys. Boys, my blog and readers.

*cough*

Ok the temperature just dropped.

Anyway. I own two Siberian hamsters, also known as Winter Whites because their coat turns silvery white in winter, which obviously does not happen in this sweltering heat, so they are mostly blacky-browny-grey-white. And they are of course, my boys, named Ah Xiang and Ah Bao. Don't laugh at the stupid names. They are stupid enough for them.

Xiang and Bao are the *cough* scions *cough* of Dan, the ultimate rodent couch potato (who's with Ger now) and brothers of Hazy, the first case of PMS (perpetual menstrual syndrome, a la HoLY) ever recorded in a non-human mammal(and she's also with Ger now). As you can see, my darling boys have great genes. And Ger has great pets.

Anyway, X&B are the greatest slobs ever in hamster history, which probably stems from being spoilt rotten by their owner ever since they were orphaned (Dora the mommy hamster died) at 10 days old. Xiang and Bao spend their days in typical bachelor-style procrastination. Xiang passes time mostly in deep slumber slouched on the excercise wheel, mouth slightly open as he dreams his little hamster dreams. Maybe he dreams of hot hamster chicks checking him out as he struts it out on the wheel (highly unlikely to happen in real life as he hardly runs on it anyway). Bao is a little more delicate in his habits. He has a private bedroom on the second storey of the cage, where he makes a huge fluffy bed of shredded tissue and plonks himself on it to sleep in luxurious comfort for up to 20 hours.

The only time these guys ever get out of bed is when I shake a packet of gourmet hamster food or a lettuce leaf at them. When that happens, they open their eyes a tiny little bit and give me that sleepy "whaaaaat" look. When they realise I'm actually putting food in the cage, their eyes grow big and round and they run as fast as their short legs can carry their fat round bodies to the foodbowl. Needless to say, upon reaching it, they both attempt to dive headfirst into the bowl of goodies, which, of course leads to a head-on collision and a lot of mortified squeals and bad-tempered shoves. Sigh. Chips off the old block.