Now playing: Mozart's “Requiem”
It seems a bit silly and I don't really know how to approach this, but Major Shortwave Beadhead [1] died this morning at approximately 4:00 am.
Around a quarter to four this morning I went downstairs to find Spring [2] cuddling one very sick looking hamster. Normally, Major Shortwave Beadhead doesn't like being held at all and will squirt out of your hands at the first chance he (she? We don't really know) gets. But not this morning.
He was having trouble breathing and would occasionally move his head in such a way as to give the impression of a cough. Whatever he came down with hit him rather suddenly. I closed the air conditioning vent, thinking that maybe he was going into hibernation mode but Spring said his breathing was spradic and watery sounding.
I broke out the phone book and found a vet with a 24-hour emergency room. Spring called and found that while we could come in, it would cost $70 for the visit, and that they really don't treat hamsters at all. Spring was asked how old Major Shortwave Beadhead was and well, to tell the truth, we don't know. Hamsters only live two, maybe three years and he might simply be dying of old age.
I then took the phone and called some more vets and I found out is that there really is only one emergency pet hospital room that most vets refer to after business hours. So there wasn't much we could do for poor Major Shortwave Bedhead.
A few minutes passed and it became apparent that Major Shortwave Beadhead had slipped this mortal coil and was now sleeping the infinite sleep.
Spring put him back in his cage, and this morning buried him in the garden. Even though he didn't like humans much (he had a much better rappaport with Spodie the cat) he will be missed.