Labor of Love

by Patti


S was really pissed at me this morning.

I threatened to put her hamster, Gus, on Craigslist, and this did not go over well. But let's be real: The last time she played with him was 2 days ago.

Last night before I went to bed, I opened his cage and he scuttled to the door. He touched my hand with his little pointy, wet nose, and I picked him up and cuddled with him. Okay, not WITH him, because I would assume that cuddling WITH someone/something would mean that that someone/something is cuddling back. Hamsters don’t cuddle back. They just shake their whiskers and pee on you. So I cuddled AT him? Whatever. WE CUDDLED.

And then I let him run around in his little see-through exercise ball while I washed my face and got my pajamas on. When I put him back in his cage, I hand fed him some sunflower seeds and fruit, and then he thanked me and scampered off to his exercise wheel.

This morning I woke up mad.

After my Craigslist threat, I explained to S that Gus is a living thing that relies on her; she can’t just forget about him because a new episode of Victorious! is on. She swore up and down that she would take care of him better; that OMG SHE LOVES GUS AND IF YOU GIVE HIM AWAY I WILL BE REALLY MAD, MOM!

I love S. Which is why I don’t leave her alone in the basement for days in a pile of pee-soaked fluff. I play with her, I engage with her, I talk to her. I also feed her, shuttle her around, pick up her dirty, balled-up socks, help her with her homework, and put up with her moods. Yes, Gus is a hamster - a furry, smelly, twitchy rodent – but just like S needs me, he needs her. And she chose him to need her. S needs to learn that love is not always fun; there is also work involved. A lot of work. Hell-to-the-yes I know this much, and one of the biggest gifts I can give her for her future is to make her understand this.

When S was a baby, I used to complain about sleep deprivation and the endless, mindless, Groundhog Day work that taking care of a baby entails. I was wrong. Though S sleeps in and can dress herself and make her own breakfast, and she hasn’t needed diapers in years, the truth is? The real work begins now.