Oro the hamster passed away quietly yesterday while Emily was in Minneapolis on a business trip. He was getting to be a pretty old guy and in light of his traumatic childhood at the pet store, I think he lived a pretty good full life. He was really Emily's pet (she got him long before we moved in together), but I feel like we had a special bond as he was the only other male mammal in the house. Sometime yesterday while I was at work, he crawled out of his little nest, curled up next to his food dish, pulled a piece of bedding over his head and just went to sleep. Poor little guy. I'm really going to miss him. His cage sits in the middle of the apartment and so we walk by it all the time. It's sad enough to see it sitting there with no little fuzzball in it and the door open, but it'll be even sadder when it's not sitting there at all. Normally under those conditions I'd expect to see Mr. Oro running around in his ball making as much noise as possible, but his ball is just as empty as his cage. He used to love running around in there, and climbing all over his cage, and chewing on his doggie biscuits. When I'd put tmy hand in his cage to feed him or try to pet him, he'd always grab my finger and try to drag my entire hand off to his secret cache of stored goodies.
My favorite memory of him is from when Emily was home for Christmas and Oro was staying at my apartment: I let him out to play in his ball while the chinnies were out. I wasn't sure what they'd think of each other. Sonja was pretty indifferent, but Zoey was first curious, then cautious, then downright terrified of this giant yellow ball piloted by something 1/10th her size. It takes a lot to scare Zoey, but apparently a swiftly moving object slightly bigger than herself that glides instead of hops is enough to do it. Unfortunately, I think the pumice dust the girls bathe in irritated Oro's skin and he lost some fur, so they weren't allowed to play together anymore. But every once in a while, in our new place, he'd be running around and we'd lose track of him, then hear a racket coming from the chin room. Upon investigation, Mr. Oro had rolled in there just to say hello and was off in a corner minding his own business, and Zoey had started freaking out, chattering away like crazy, and bouncing all over the cage.
All pets have their own personalities, and while Oro wasn't the snuggliest or the the smartest, he made up for it with his antics. Sitting in his food dish when he was hungry, eventually learning how to climb back down his cage rather than just letting go and falling off, rolling around in his bedding to get it just right, moving his nest to a different corner every week, acting like his cage being cleaned was the greatest injustice in the universe, squeaking and beeping away just to say hello or whenever he was happy, and generally just being a clumsy little ball of fur you couldn't help but love.
Rest in peace buddy.
My favorite memory of him is from when Emily was home for Christmas and Oro was staying at my apartment: I let him out to play in his ball while the chinnies were out. I wasn't sure what they'd think of each other. Sonja was pretty indifferent, but Zoey was first curious, then cautious, then downright terrified of this giant yellow ball piloted by something 1/10th her size. It takes a lot to scare Zoey, but apparently a swiftly moving object slightly bigger than herself that glides instead of hops is enough to do it. Unfortunately, I think the pumice dust the girls bathe in irritated Oro's skin and he lost some fur, so they weren't allowed to play together anymore. But every once in a while, in our new place, he'd be running around and we'd lose track of him, then hear a racket coming from the chin room. Upon investigation, Mr. Oro had rolled in there just to say hello and was off in a corner minding his own business, and Zoey had started freaking out, chattering away like crazy, and bouncing all over the cage.
All pets have their own personalities, and while Oro wasn't the snuggliest or the the smartest, he made up for it with his antics. Sitting in his food dish when he was hungry, eventually learning how to climb back down his cage rather than just letting go and falling off, rolling around in his bedding to get it just right, moving his nest to a different corner every week, acting like his cage being cleaned was the greatest injustice in the universe, squeaking and beeping away just to say hello or whenever he was happy, and generally just being a clumsy little ball of fur you couldn't help but love.
Rest in peace buddy.
