My life with the thrill kill cult...

I think this blog has become more of a confessional booth for me. Forgive me father for I have sinned...

A week or so ago we came to find that our home had been infiltrated by fleas. How does that happen when you don't own pets that are flea worthy? Whatever the cause, they were there eating us. Ask me how I slept! Well, I didn't. I stress too much over that kind of stuff. So anyways, we had a hamster (notice the key word of that sentence) and we noticed that he was starting to scratch himself like a dog. I was convinced that he had also been infiltrated by fleas as well. What was I to do? I had to take action! The pest control peeps came to spray and Diamond had to get de-flead. Well, apparently pet stores don't have powder for hamsters and their advise is to take it to a vet. A vet? For a $10 hamster?! So I call my husband and ask what shall I do? Let it go? We concluded that that was the best bet. I feel guilty and seek comfort from a friend, who in turn laughs at my situation. She gives me a boost and out we go.

This little fella knows how good he's got it and will not leave the nest. After much prompting he refuses. After all the nights in the house of trying to break out for the great beyond, and now he won't go when it is offered to him! Eventually he finally stepped out of the cage and I went in. GUILT STRICKEN! I call Brian for the hundredth time (he was conveniently out of town), and said "I am the most horrible mom in the world" and his sweet reply was...."I didn't think you would actually do it! Go get him and I will take care of it this weekend." I rush out to save him from me and I find him on his death bed. The hamster was out in the Phoenix heat for five minutes and is now on his way out? CRAP! What do I do?

I'll tell you what I did. I tone down the details for sister, just like any other parent would, and head straight for Petsmart. Bury our poor little friend in the pet cemetery we have started in the back yard. And welcome in the newest members of our family...Scruffy and Muffin! Sister mourned for a week or so and I am very careful not to mention the name of our dearly departed. A weekend at the Point Squaw Peak and the fleas are gone. The kids had fun at the water park there and a deep cleaning later we are all feeling less stressed.

As for the deaths of so many animals within our walls only one was preventable. The roof rat had it coming, the turtles didn't have a chance and the hamster's story has just been told. Maybe one day in twenty years or so Sister will know the full story but as for now you are sworn to secrecy.

p.s....I am not for hire, Jimmy!