the death of a hamster

Yesterday was my last day at the coffee shop. I was getting pretty tired of most of the people I worked with, but I was kind of sad to say goodbye to some of the customers. I said goodbye to most customers in my head, because I wasn't sure how to say it out loud. I'll miss Mike, Shirley, the friendly Australian woman with the odd name I can never remember, the green tea latte guys who invited me to their house party, and Rob the busdriver, as well as the happy busdriver lady who likes oat bars. I will certainly not miss the notorious Short Mocha Man. But I will definitely miss all the kids who take martial arts lessons next door, because they are so friendly and polite and spunky and full of smiles. I want to have kids like that someday.

One of the kids, nunchuks girl, came in yesterday and said "There's a dead hamster outside." I looked up and out the window, and two other girls were pointing at somthing for me. So I put on a double layer of pastry gloves and went out to see what I could do. Someone had left a cardboard box labeled "free hamsters" just outside the martial arts place. It seems that the hamster had chewed a hole in the box and then keeled over dead just four feet into his freedom. His eyes were milky white and the girls were a little bit scared.

Girl: "Are you going to bury him?"
Me: "No."
Girl: "What are you going to do with him?"
Me: "I'm going to put him in the garbage."
Girl: "No!"
Another girl: "I guess he'll end up in a landfill and be covered up, so that's kind of like burying him."

So I picked up the hamster, and as soon as I touched him (remember: double-layered pastry gloves) and felt that he wasn't crusty and stiff like I thought but that he was soft and squishy with bones inside just like a real live hamster, then I got sad. I put him back in his box and carried him away to the dumpster. The girls didn't follow, I don't think they wanted to see. I was beginning to question whether I had done the right thing by just saying where I was putting the hamster or whether I should have lied to the kids to make them feel better. I was still sad for the hamster itself as well. So, as I put it in the dumpster, I said a prayer: "Oh Lord, receive this hamster into thy kingdom. Amen."

My dad might take issue with that because he's not one for ascribing souls or intelligence to animals, but I had to say something to properly wrap up the life and death of the hamster. I'm sure God can weed out the iffy theology and make sure the hamster ends up in the right place. I've decided that when I'm in heaven and I've already managed to look up all my old friends at least once, I'll have lots of time left to hunt for the hamster and make sure he's okay.

When nunchuks girl came back for a hot chocolate after her lesson, I gave her what is without a doubt the largest mountain of whipping cream I have ever managed to pile on top of a small cup and said "I'm sorry you had to see a dead hamster." The woman behind her in line smiled at me in a friendly and sympathetic way. I've spent much of the past 24 hours wondering whether maybe I shouldn't have told them I was putting the hamster in the garbage. I didn't want to make them more upset, but I didn't want to lie. I hope I did the right thing.