Fatty has crossed the rainbow bridge last Monday, and I have to say, I will miss his antics. He’s the only hamster that slept like this:
And allowed me to give him belly rubs without much of a care in the world.
An excellent example of a hamster with no prey instincts left.
He turned 3 last December. It all happened so fast, within a span of one episode of Pretty Little Liars, actually. One moment I saw him hobbling out of his food bowl, and the next thing I know, he was while laying there, sprawled face down, not resisting Tiny’s licks. Which struck me as odd since he will start squeaking whenever Tiny starts doing that.
That was when I knew.
I was expecting Tiny (Fatty’s bunk mate) to be grieving, and thus amounted to me spending copious amount of time observing any change on character.Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to be affected much, actually, not at all. He’s still as spirited and probably more happy now that he doesn’t need to share his favourite running wheel.
Its funny loving rodents. For one, they don’t love you back. But yet, it affects us one way or another. The passing of Fatty has definitely impacted my sister, a lot more. We got so comfortable, expecting that every time we look into their cage, they are doing something funny.
Goodbye Fatty, I hope you are running around in clouds of sunflower seeds.