Every day when, first thing in the morning, we check on and clean up after Hammy Jo, we steel ourselves for the possibility that this will be the day when he fails to rustle in his nest. Jo is well past his first birthday, so every day is a bonus, as all past hamsters have shown us. Yet, today just as yesterday, there he was hale and hearty, ready for a few meal-worms before settling down to a day’s sleep, as is his routine.
Normally, Jeoffry’s comings and goings are never a cause for concern, particularly the older he gets. However, yesterday it was his health and well-being which placed him centre stage when he was rushed to the vet out of hours, his mouth bleeding and his demeanour depressed and fragile. Fortunately, the vet is always available and, even though it was a Sunday, Jeoffry was seen and operated on for the effects of a terribly corrosive abscess beneath a rotten remains of a tooth. The outcome, as I write, remains unclear and we are all very worried. He is currently on a drip, having now the difficulty of trying to eat and drink with a tongue which can’t work properly like it used to. Our dear friend, we all miss you, and look forward to hearing better news about your response to treatment tomorrow. Last night, as I slept on Boggis, Jeoffry was absent from his bed on the trunk, and there was no cat-flap noise at unthinkable hours. The place simply isn’t the same. It is awful.
mr pip ponders 