Saturday, March 25, 2006

Puff Daddy, the thrill seeker

Puffy, Tigrette's hamster, is living large in SA. He was getting big in Austin in that tiny cage. No exercise and plenty of food maybe. Tigrette claimed she exercised him but I don't recall seeing that tiny purple ball rolling around the house all that often.

So, moving here I decided to get rid of the plastic cage (plastic is dirty!) and bought an aquarium. But then the brother needed new furniture with his new digs so in came a house-combo-feeding station, a running wheel and a big ole' water bottle. And Puffy was lean in no time. The first day with the wheel he did an all-nighter: ten spins on the wheel, a sip of water, a climb on the house and back on the wheel.

That was early February.

Now having moved to the apartment Puffy's enjoying the space and likes being downstairs where all the action is (damn, what happened to the action happening upstairs?). But I made the mistake of running home one afternoon in late February and having a cat walk into the house. Obviously comfortable being with people or he wouldn't have. Well, he must have smelled something he liked because even after shooing the cat away 5 minutes later he came back in. This time he and Puff Daddy were face to face and that cat looked hungry.

I screamed out for the intruder to get out but since then, I swear, all these cats have been "hanging out". Tigrette says it's Cat Country and those cats better watch out or she's going to have to hurt them to keep them away.

With that in mind, Puffy terrified me a couple of days ago when he managed to climb out of his cage and got himself lost. I've seen that little houdini get out of all kinds of situations, flatten his body to pass under impassable things and generally always know the fastest way out of any situation.

I had to go to work so after a 1/2 hour search I left his food and water out on the floor and confided in my mom just how I did not want to find a dead body in the house. My mother picked up the little one at school and they came to the apartment. After much searching it looked dim. He could be stuck under an appliance. He could get outside and be a nice lunch for the many calicos in the 'hood. He could have burned himself on the space heater.

Out of no where my mother saw him. Bad Puff Daddy! just resting in the christmas tree holder in the storage closet.

He was upset for a couple of days after - he liked the freedom, even if he did trip out and put himself in the closet. He liked it and he was glum for days.

Now he's fine, eating from my hand again, generally bright and energetic.

I'm just waiting for him to decide he wants out again. Like so many other things, you can't make them stay.

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