How those prawn’s eyes bore into me: ‘J’accuse!’ they say. I can say goodbye to only so many hamsters. Indeed, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if my neighbours suspect me of having a long-term plan to make a jacket out of a thousand hamster hides: less Buffalo Bill, more Hamster Harry.
But it’s not true. Every hamster that has expired on my watch has with it taken a little piece of my heart. I know that love is limitless, but there are limits. No more hamsters. And this time I mean it.
As usual, I have sat down to write something and found myself writing something entirely different. I’m supposed to be here to update you on my #teacher5aday. Instead, here I am mourning the loss of yet another hamster. When the winter mists roll in (Southern Hemisphere, Pacific), they bring with them a death to hamsters: a very…
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