Ah, see? Shawntelle's post is all about using social media to further books and reading. I'm currently using social media to help find a hamster. To be fair, I'm not anti-literature. I'm just desperate.
A certain dwarf hamster named Molly is quite the celebrity around our house. The kids make her custom meals (sliced carrots with a sprinkle of grape juice, anyone?). She has birthday parties. And she recently, ahem, passed away. In a moment of "oh no," I decided to conceal this fact from the kids. They're young and I figured they didn't need this complication in their lives, not at ages 4 and 7 at least.
So, in the classic cover up, I headed to PetsMart with our deceased friend. It must happen often because the woman at PetsMart was not at all surprised to see me in the rodent aisle, holding a small shoe box. We compared the former hamster to the hamsters for sale and found an almost perfect match.
I replaced Molly and soon after, the kids marveled at how quick and spry she had become. End of story. I thought. Well, it turns out that the younger hamsters like to climb. Molly had a small hole at the top of her cage, nothing she could squeeze through or even climb to reach. She was content and a little chunky after all the custom hamster food. Molly 2 did not have this problem.
Yesterday morning, we went in to feed Molly 2 and she was gone. Finito. Nowhere in sight.
Now I really should be looking over the re-releases for the accidental demon slayer series. Or maybe I should be writing the next Monster MASH book. Instead, I'm all over social media, finding new ways to trap escaped hamsters. Above is a picture of a contraption I rigged last night. It's a slick trash can with peanut butter in the bottom. The idea is the hamster climbs the books, goes in for the peanut butter and can't climb out. It didn't work. Our hamster is either too dumb to find the food or too smart to be fooled.
We'll get her, though. Like Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive: Alright, listen up, people. Our fugitive has been on the run for one day. Average foot speed over uneven ground barring injuries is .0000004 miles-per-hour. That gives us a radius of the entire upstairs of the house. What I want from each and every one of you is a hard-target search of every toy box, shoe box, storage box, book box and crayon box in that area. Double check the corners. Checkpoints go up at the top of the stairs. Your fugitive's name is Molly the hamster. Go get her.