Seven maybe eight

It's time to fess up.  There was not just one hamster.  There was like seven or eight.  Yes, I am one of those parents that replaced lost pets in hopes I would never have to deal with the aftermath of a loss.  Fish were easy.  Hamsters way harder.  The kids paid attention to what they looked like.  Finding matches was not easy.  Finding the bones left behind by DC was harder.  That dog must have eaten at least three.  Those damn little animals would chew the plastic on the tubes of the cage and DC would patiently wait their escape.  Then it was game on.  

I would get off work early and go to the pet store for a replacement.  Many times I had to tell some tale to the girls to buy me time for a suitable replacement.  He's at the vet.  He is with his friends.  Actually he was bones in the closet.

The final lie was told not by me but my husband.  Somehow it made me feel better that we were in this together at the end.  Yes when we moved Daddy said he let the last hamster, or rather the only one (clears throat), out into the woods to live free.  Chances are some bird of prey got him, we did live in the boonies.  

Well, although my heart was in the right place, I was less than honest.  I find solace in knowing many a hamster got a taste of life outside of the pet store, if only to fight a battle to the death with a great black monster known as DC.  May Heaven have those hamsters ganging up on that dog even as I write this.