Image by onlinewoman via FlickrMy cousin, Wayne, has done the unthinkable, the very thing I made him promise not to do, before he moved in. The silly sod left the door of the hamster cage open last night. Henry has escaped. I know where he is - he's having a whale of a time behind some panelling in the bathroom. There's a small hole in the wood, near some pipes, so I placed a piece of cheese a few inches from it, hoping to tempt him out.
Henry is allegedly a dwarf Campbell's Russian hamster (that's not Henry in the pic), but I think he's been genetically modified with giraffe genes. His twitchy little pink nose suddenly appeared at the hole, then his neck stretched to crazy proportions, before he snatched the cheese, and disappeared again. I doubt I'd have had the guts to grab him anyway - he bites, and he's a rodent. Yuk.
I've sent Wayne a text to let him know Henry's whereabouts. As soon as he gets home from work, he can damn well catch the little beggar, and remand him into the custody of his cage once more. Hopefully, Henry will stay in the hole until his Daddy arrives, otherwise he may not see the end of the day, as I have two cats and a dog who would love to eat him. As for me, I'm dreading going to the loo. The panelling is just behind the loo, and I'm convinced that if I need to pay more than a quick visit, the horrible creature will either climb my leg, or sneak up and bite my bum.
Anyone want a hamster? He's free to a good home, bad home, or anything in between - just as long as it's not in between the panelling and the walls of my bathroom.