Hamster Power

That’s right, I, Rosie the Wonder Hamster have hijacked Gemma’s blog this week. Why you may ask? Lack of attention. That’s right, for the past week Gemma has been locked away in her bedroom completely ignoring the adorable fuzziness that is me. Something about a book deadline. I’m not sure what that means, but I’ve witnessed lots of chocolate and cocktails go in and only wastebaskets full of crumpled papers come out. And instead of petting me and running me in my really complicated cardboard maze (Dude, do you know how hard it is to remember where she puts that treat? I refuse to believe it’s the same place every time.), she’s been muttering to herself about things like “motive,” “alibi,” and “twist at the end.” I’m starting to worry.

So, ignored as I was, yesterday I decided to stand up for my right to daily petting and do something about it. I made a break for it. That’s right, they haven’t yet created a cage or plastic tubing that can hold this hamster back. When Gemma wasn’t looking (which has been a lot lately. *pout*) I wiggled my little nose underneath the latch on the top of my cage and popped that sucker open. I climbed out and kind of slid down the side of my cage until I hit the top of the dresser it sits on. Then I walked to the edge of the dresser and peered over. Gulp. Let me tell you, when you’re only two inches tall, that is one heck of a drop. But, I’m nothing if not brave (the don’t call me the Wonder Hamster for nothing), so, closing my eyes and holding my breath, I jumped for it. All I can say is thank goodness for my ample lady lumps. (Hey, if God wanted me to run on an exercise wheel, he’d have made mini sized ipods, okay?) My extra padding broke my fall, and I found myself free, on the ground floor, and ready for phase two of my plan to win back Gemma’s affection.

I scurried (‘cause that’s pretty much the only way someone with feet like mine can move) across the floor and down the hall to Gemma’s room where the incessant sound of keyboard clacking greeted my tiny little ears. There she was. At her desk, empty Starbucks cup beside her, moving her lips as she typed, eyes glued to the screen.
I very stealthily made my way into the room and headed toward the big white doors to the right. At one point Gemma paused in her typing and looked up, almost staring straight at me. But, clever thing that I am, I stood perfectly still so I’d blend in with the carpeting. It must have worked because she just turned back to her screen, muttering, “…but Maddie has to kiss him in chapter seven…”

I let out a sigh of relief and continued toward my target unnoticed until I hit the white doors. Sucking in a deep breath, I squeezed though a tiny crack between them. A very tiny crack. I almost got stuck halfway through. (Okay, fine. I’ll do a couple laps on my wheel tonight. But don’t think I’m making a habit of it!) But, I finally made it. I was in. Gemma’s closet.

For anyone who has never seen Gemma’s closet it’s the coolest place I’ve ever been. Hamster beds as far as the eye can see. Of course, she calls them “shoes”, but whatever. I tippy toed over some sparkly silver beds, a pair of leopard print ones with lots of complicated straps, a couple really pink fuzzy ones, until I spied the perfect pair. Red, shiny, really high off the ground, with straps that made kind of a nice canopy. Beautiful. Like the kind of bed a princess hamster would sleep in. And, since I am Gemma’s little princess (or at least I was before that dang book came along…), I climbed right in and made myself at home. I nuzzled all the way into the toe and settled in for a long, satisfying nap.

And, my plan worked like a charm. Okay, so maybe the first thing Gemma did when she opened her closet to grab a pair of “going out” shoes that evening wasn’t pet my head and tell me how pretty I am. But I did get her attention. Boy howdy, did I. She screamed liked someone had hidden her chew toys when she stuck one toe in the shiny red hamster bed and came up against my furry backside. I think she may have even used the term “rat” once or twice, but I’m quite certain she wasn’t referring to me. (Hey, I may be a rodent, but I’ve more class in one whisker than that my long tailed, gutter dwelling cousins.) When she finally stopped screaming and realized I’d just come for a little visit, she picked me up by the scruff of the neck and plopped me unceremoniously back into my cage. Duct taping the lid on this time.

Okay, so I didn’t quite get the kind of attention I was going for. But, I’m pretty sure that when she reads this blog today, she’ll realize how terribly neglected I’ve been, put down the keyboard, and come spend a few quality moments rubbing my belly and feeding my sunflower seeds. After all, what’s a silly little book compared to a hamster that can perform death defying leaps and stealth cross carpet missions?

~Rosie "Caught Red-Handed" Hamster

P.S. The winner of Gemma's advanced reader copy of THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR STRUTTING is... Sin! Sin, email my owner with your addy and I'll make sure she sends your ARC out ASAP. Congrats, girl!