My son had been living out on his own for a while with his girlfriend, Tara.  As Vance works nights, he and Tara decided to get a pet to keep her company while he was away, a fact unbeknownst to me.  But the apartment they were sharing didn't allow pets - at least no cats, dogs, and the usual array of creatures that are not contained in their own environment.  Vance and Tara separated in October 1999, and he got 'custody' of the hamster.  He was moving back home and conveniently neglected to include the fact that he would be bringing wildlife with him.

When he was still living at home, I had the computer set up in an office in the basement.  When he left home, I commandeered his old bedroom and moved the office upstairs.  I was not about to give it up, so he took over my old space.  I had this horrendous fear of the little creature escaping from her home and running loose in the basement.  Nothing could be worse, in my imagination, than a hamster scurrying around in corners down there doing lord only knows what.  The only place left for her was in the office with me.

I reluctantly cleared a space for her cage atop my cedar chest.  There, Vance set up her home, which isn't really a cage - it's more of a CONDOMINIUM now.  He had purchased one of the S.A.M. hamster enclosures - all plexiglass with colored clear plastic attachments.  This original unit was called The Palace.  I was afraid to hold her, fearing that she would either bite me or that I would drop her.  She was so small when she moved in.  But Vance placed her in my hands and gave me a yogurt drop to feed her.  Looking down at this sliver of a living being daintily nibbling on her treat, just tugged at my heart.  DJ - so completely trusting that she would sit in a stranger's hand and quietly have her evening snack.

And where are we now?  It's May 2001.  I come home from work and DJ is still asleep.  She's two years old now, and sleeping a lot more, as hamsters do when they get towards the end of their life span.  In the evening, when I sit down at the computer, she stands up in her cage with her tiny pink feet resting on the edge, her little ears perked up, waiting for me to say hello.  She climbs onto the ledge and waits until I extend my hand.  DJ likes to sit on my lap as I'm working on the computer, sometimes venturing onto the keyboard to 'help out with the typing'.  The older she gets, the more she wants to be held.  DJ sits on the couch with Vance Sr. and watches TV.   She loves getting into her plastic ball.  She rolls all over the house, often going so fast that she spins right upside down when she tries to stop.  But her favorite sport is the time spent in the bathroom.  It's the only truly safe place where she can run free and not get into any trouble.  I probably have the cleanest baseboards in the world, as she scurries around each wall, pressing her tiny body against the boards to claim the territory as her own.  She flips over on her back in the corners with her legs flying up in the air and wriggles for what seems like forever.  And she knows her name ... she will come to you when you call her, just as any other pet. 

All too soon, it's time for bed and the tired little animal snuggles down into her nest of fresh cotton and pine bedding in her home.  But not before one last treat - either a milk and honey drop, or a strawberry drop, or a yogurt drop.

Hamster - just a rodent - yeah, right.  On June 20, 2001, at 9:15 am, DJ died in my hand while at the veterinary office.  Overnight, her breathing had become rapid and shallow.  The doctor suspected a tumor had developed in one of her lungs.  In an instant, my little friend was gone ...