Cleanliness is Not Next to Hamster-i-ness!

Hamsterdam.
Peace offering.
Release.
Materials of cleanliness.
Inside the ball.

My hamsters are mad at me. Squeaking mad. Why? Because I had the audacity to clean their cage. (Well,actually it's an aquarium with a screened lid, but let's not quibble about the details because there is enough discord in the house right now as it is.)

It had to be done. They were getting downright stinky and since they share my office and I'm the responsible-pet-owner-in-residence, I'm the one who has to do it, even though it makes me the "bad guy." I know that they spend lots of time getting their little lair "just right," but it's not like they're not used to it. We have a routine.

Once or twice a week, I put up the baby gate to keep Nipper out of the kitchen, place Sheldon and Leonard in their little hamster balls so they can run across the kitchen floor while I work, spread the newspaper out over the kitchen table, gather the materials and give "Hamsterdam" a good, old-fashioned, soap and hot water scrubbing. Then they get fresh litter, clean water, a new bowl of food and to assuage their pique (gosh, I love dropping pretentious French phrases when it comes to talking about housepets), bribe them with a vanilla Oreo cookie to make it all better.

But they are still spitting mad...so angry they can barely run their wheel. You should see them stomping around that cage messing the place up again. Ah, well...what else do they have to do? As my Great-Grandmother was fond of saying, "Everybody has to have a hobby!"