> >A True Story by W. Bruce Cameron
> >
> >Overview: I had to take my son's hamster to the vet.
> >
> >Here's what happened:
> >
> >     Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there 
was
> >"something wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in 
his
> >room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me.
> >     "Oldest trick in the book, son," I informed him. "You go in to 
see
> >what's
> >wrong with the sick one and the other one sneaks up behind you and 
bonks
you
> >on the head. Then they change into your clothes and escape."
> >     "I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?" I put my best hamster-healer
> >expression
> >on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little 
rodents
was
> >indeed lying on his back, looking distressed. I immediately knew 
what to
do.
> >Call the professional.
> >     "Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"
> >     "Oh, my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having
babies."
> >     "What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, 
Mom!"
> >     I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we 
said we
> >didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.
> >     "Well, what did you want me to do, post a sign in their cage,?" 
she
> >inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)
> >     "No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, in 
my
most
> >loving, sweet voice.
> >     "Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
> >     "Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys," she 
informed
me.
> >(Again with the sarcasm you think?)
> >     By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was 
going on.
I
> >shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. "Kids, this is going to 
be a
> >wondrous experience," I announced. "We're about to witness the 
miracle of
> >birth."
> >     "OH, Gross,!" they shrieked.
> >     "Well, isn't THAT just Great!; what are we going to do with a 
litter
of
> >tiny little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do 
think
she
> >was being snotty here, too. Don't you?)
> >     "Well, when my parents' dogs had puppies, I took them up to the
grocery
> >store in a cardboard box and gave them away," I recalled.
> >     "So what are you going to do, go up with a pair of tweezers so
people
> >can
> >pick out their hamster?" she asked. (Gotta love her!)
> >     We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked 
like a
tiny
> >foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
> >     "We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.
> >     "A breech birth," my wife whispered, horrified.
> >     "Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
> >     "Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot 
when it
> >next
> >appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried again, 
with
the
> >same results.
> >     "Should I dial 911,?" my daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they 
could
talk
> >us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with my females?)
> >     "Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly.
> >     We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.
"Breathe,
> >Ernie, breathe," he urged.
> >     "I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. 
(Women
can
> >be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one 
thing,
but
> >this boy is "of her womb," for God's sake.)
> >     The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the
little
> >animal through a magnifying glass.
> >     "What do you think, Doc, an epidermal?" I suggested 
scientifically.
> >     "Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may 
I
speak
> >to you privately for a moment?"
> >     I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
> >     "Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
> >     "Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in 
labor.
In
> >fact, that isn't EVER going to happen ...Ernie is a boy."
> >     "What!?"
> >     "You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come 
into
> >maturity, male hamsters will, master,er,er,ah..." He blushed, 
glancing at
my
> >wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron."
> >     We were silent, absorbing this. "So Ernie's 
just...just...Excited?"
my
> >wife offered.
> >     "Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
> >     More silence.
> >     Then my vicious, cruel woman started to giggle. And giggle. And 
then
> >even
> >laugh loudly. "What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not 
believing
that
> >the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless
> >Manliness. Tears were now running down her face.
> >     "Just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its...its...teeny,
> >little..."
> >she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
> >     "That's enough," I warned. We thanked the veterinarian and 
hurriedly
> >bundled the hamster and our son back into the car. He was glad 
everything
> >was going to be okay.
> >     "I know Ernie is really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he 
told
me.
> >     "Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing into 
laughter as
I
> >gave her a dirty look. (And women have the gall to go though the 
marriage
> >ceremony with a completely straight face. It's scary!)