The Hamster, an essay on a personal experience

Essay by George LagosUniversity, Bachelor's March 1997

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"Is it dead? What happened!" I said as I rolled my sister's hamster around in it's

little cage. It was a Sunday evening when I said these words, I was all alone, and I was

very confused. I didn't know what I was going to do at that point. The only person who

I could talk to and help me out in this situation was a friend that I had been talking to for a

few minutes. My friend also did not know what I should do. I poked the poor creature

several times to see if it still had any life left in it. Instead of waking up and moving about

its cage, the hamster lay there motionless, like a little stuffed animal. I sat there in the

living room, talking on the phone, and examining the hamster's cage. My little sister's

hamster had died while it was under my care.

My parents had gone to San Fransisco for the weekend, and instead of staying at

my grandparents' house like my parents recommended, I decided to stay at home. Both of

my sisters went to my grandparents' house, so I had the whole house to myself. I even

had some company: my sister's hamster. I was the hamster's sole caretaker. Without

me, it would starve, die of thirst, or somehow find a way to escape the confines of its little

cage and wreak havoc throughout my parents' house. Because I've never taken care of a

hamster before, my sister had to tell me how I was to take care of her hamster. I was to

feed it, make sure there was plenty of water, play with it, and give it some exercise by

putting it inside of a plastic ball and let it run around inside of it for...