At work I was trusted with the life of a living creature…theoretically. For one week I had to provide food and water for a hamster while its owners were away. What was a relatively easy job became mentally draining because I never once saw the hamster and I assumed that I was going crazy.
The hamster, let’s call him “Stealth,” was supposedly a nocturnal pet that slept in its makeshift bed (which consisted entirely of wood-chips) allll daaaay looonng. I fed Stealth at the start of each workday and by the end of the day the food moved to the other side of the cage. It was as if the invisible animal was saying, “NO! I want it HERE,” but I’m somewhat rebellious and I put hamster food where I want!
By the third day I wanted to pull the hamster out of its hole, but I didn’t want to risk killing two animals in one week. I considered gently shaking the “cage” but I didn’t want to conduct mouth-to-mouth the hamster if it went under cardiac arrest.
I came to grips with the situation as I got more and more dillusional. When I was all out of ideas to coerce the animal out of its hole, I settled on the fact that Stealth either didn’t exist, or didn’t want to be bothered. Nonetheless, I did my job and kept putting food in the cage.
I have many theories about this hamster, which includes the possibility that I fed an empty cage for the week, or that I was part of a psychological experiment where I was the lab rat, but let it be known that I am the best cage feeder since…..um…. well, I guess I’m the best cage feeder ever