A few days ago Sonic's wheel began to squeak! It was awful. And so, in the middle of the night, I removed his wheel from his cage to get some sleep. When I woke up the next morning to return his wheel to him, I found the little man climbing the cage walls with the help of a running start!! He just ran right up them and it appears he's been able to do this the whole time. That wheel-loving nugget was trying to show me who was boss after I took his wheel away!
After snapping a few pictures of his amazing feat and that belly(!!!!) I took out his water bottle (which forces the lid to remain open a crack) and closed his lid completely to keep him in while I thought of a better solution.
I can't even be upset... I'm too impressed.
However, school/finals!/work/general busy-ness got in the way and I didn't have time to think of a different set-up and I couldn't leave the little guy without water. So, I chalked it up to an act of teenage (he's like 50 in hamster-years) angst, and figured with his wheel back in place and the lid down in its usual position (the first time he got out it had been fully open) he would stay put in his happy home.
Fast forward to this morning. Chuck and I got out of bed and sleepily headed to the bathroom where Sonic lives separated from his sister-cat. Per the usual morning routine, I reached in his cage and said "Good morning, Little Nugget!" I didn't see him right away, so I assumed he was sleeping in his hut and lifted it. Not there. Now, I'm legally blind without corrective lenses and was glassesless at this particular moment, so I asked Chuck for confirmation- "Am I just not seeing him, or is he really not in there?!" His lid had been and was still down, the bathroom door closed all night, and there was no tiny Sonic scampering along the bathroom floor. Chuck got a puzzled look, then used his perfect, blessed, 20/20 vision to look across the adjacent living room. "That might explain the situation in the corner," he said. Cleo, our cat, was laying on the floor staring intently at the couch.
We ran over, grabbed the cat, and locked her in the bedroom, then carefully pulled the couch away from the wall. A tiny ball of fat and fur waddled full speed across the floor and the chase was on... again! I have to admit that furry little butt running across the room as I imagined him squealing "freeeeedommmm," had me cracking up.
After a short chase (his quarter-inch long legs can only run so fast) he was once again caught and safely returned to his cage and I was forced to come up with a new watering solution right then and there... no more putting it off. He now has a small bowl of water in his cage instead of the usual hamster bottle and his lid firmly closed and locked!
If we can't even keep a hamster in a cage, three and a half feet off the ground, and locked in a room from sneaking out in the middle of the night, we're in trouble when we have teenagers some day! Although, if their sneak-outs are half as impressive as his have been, I don't even think I'll be mad.
(Note to reader: don't show that last sentence to my future children someday, please and thank you.)
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