FIRST THINGS FIRST~
HERE'S the Furry Friday on Saturdays bit:
I WAS SO DEPRESSED THIS MORNING I was yelling and screaming and banging my head on the wall. So I got a pair of scissors and did something I'd been meaning to do for years: in 4 cuts I hacked all my hair off. It had grown long, straggly and horrible ~ a look I used to like and, for a brief time in my late 20s believed suited me in an Interview with the Vampire kinda way. More recently it's only been long because I lacked courage to cut it ~ in other words it was the tired kind of style many people end up with by default. I never mentioned I was a long-hair here because I hated it and it didn't even suit me any more.
Although my hair does look like it was hacked off by a mentally ill person (it needs some finishing off) the style where I left it long enough to sweep backwards seems to suit me. I know this looks a bit aristocratic, but chavvy fashions just do not suit me. Even when I was so incredibly dirty because I just was not looking after myself at all, people still thought I was posh ("too posh to wash") or "from a rich family". Which amuses me and winds me up by turns because I simply am not...I am blandly middle-class down through 300 years of ancestors ~ probably just like the rest of us.
Poor Baby Itchy. Of all my hammies to go, why did it have to be her? I was very upset when she died because she was so tiny and cute. Between my assuming she'd escaped (because I emptied out their tank and found only two) and then discovered her looking extremely unkempt beneath the water bottle was less than 24 hours. Many a time I've seen what happens when hamsters get old. They progressively lose muscle tone, reduce activities almost to nothing, spending all their time in bed, they get more and more scruffy because they're too sick or weary to wash. And then within a month, they die. Itchy was a more extreme version of this: she'd lost so much weight her backbone stuck out like a piece of wire. Her eyes were half closed. Half-asleep all the time, she weighed next to nothing. She sat quietly in my hands or hobbled across my furry sweater.
The day afterwards I had to go out for an antidrugs meeting so I left her. Luckily she was alive when I got back. I made a cave with my hands to keep Baby Itchy warm because her sisters, bright-eyed and eager trampled back and forth all over her when I hovered overhead bearing biscuits. But nothing would make Itchy eat. Not soggy biscuits, flour, nothing. Wouldn't even sup water. By evening she was so light that probably a hummingbird would have tilted scales against her.
I put her back in the nest supposedly so her sisters Bashful and Spherical could "say goodbye". But they seemed more intent on eating the chocolate remains from around her mouth! And promptly ignored her.
Next morning I fished her out, but was horrified to discover a dark patch ~ greeny-black, underneath just beneath where her bellybutton would have been. I don't know what on earth it was but I'm glad she wasn't left any longer with the others. Quickly I grabbed everything from their tank, put them in their diggery and bleached the tank. Spherical and Bashful weren't too happy about losing their old (cardboard) toys but it had to be done. The wheel's still there.
It's Itchy's funeral today. She's been tied inside multiple carrier bags inside a huge jar somewhere safe and Mother Hubbs said it was OK to put her in their garden where three people are buried (as ashes) and innumerable cats.
Thanks for all the sweet messages. I tried my old email by the way and it is working, so I dunno why some of yous got messages bounced back..?
Right I'd better ping now, Roborovski style. Have a charming weekend...
I really wish they'd put something at least half-decent to watch, movie-wise on television:~
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