Her name was Nibbles. Oh, what a rodent that was!
A golden hamster so full of life, energy, and exuberance the world will never see again.
With shiny black rodent eyes, slightly oversized ears -- more like a mouse than a hamster -- and soft fur with a healthy sheen, Nibbles could have easily won first-prize in a hamster beauty contest, so adorable was she. Oh, what a rodent that was!
Totally dauntless was this roly-poly ball of pure hamster energy, as she climbed to the top bars of her cage, maneuvering upside-down across the top with consummate acrobatic skill. She would sometimes take a fall, then get right back up, and start climbing again. Oh, what a rodent that was!
Nibbles was equally fearless in her "Liberty Ball," rolling wherever her strong sense of curiosity and adventure led her.
As I worked at my desk, she often rolled into my feet, seeking attention and acknowledgement of her supreme skill as first rodent commander of the Starship Liberty Ball. She was an incredible ham, both in and out of her cage. And I always gave her the attention she sought. How could I not? She was, after all, so cute. Oh, what a rodent that was!
I would often hold her snugly in my hands, and feed her a tasty tidbit of some kind -- piece of strawberry, slice of apple, special nut or seed, or small corner of her favorite cheese.
Always, she accepted my gifts and either ravenously chewed and gnawed them on the spot or tucked them away in a cheek pouch, saving them as special treats for later.
Like many hamsters and other rodents, Nibbles' life was short. Though cared for like a queen, and given every comfort and advantage of nutrition and habitat imaginable, her own life spanned barely one and a half years. This energetic hamster, this little ball of rodent fire, suddenly developed a respiratory illness. I took her to the vet, where she had to stay for several days.
During the time Nibbles was away, something in the house felt different, strange...like a very important member of the family was gone. It was a sad, empty feeling. I looked forward to being reunited with my treasured pet Nibbles, and I worried about her, wanting her to be happy and healthy again.
Sadly, her respiratory ailment could not be successfully treated. So I brought Nibbles home, and made her last days as comfortable as possible -- giving her special bedding material to keep her warm, offering her all of her favorite treats, and, of course, providing lots and lots of TLC.
After she passed away, I knew I had lost a very special friend. Oh, what a rodent that was!
People come and go in our lives. They live and die, and some live on in our memories. We learn from our relationships, and often mourn their loss.
But Nibbles touched me in a special way that no person ever has. And as I recall that little ball of fur running like a speed demon in her plastic rolling sphere of liberty, I see my own life reflected somehow. I see the freedom I have to "roll" and explore during my time on this planet. I see my chance to know others and to let others know me.
And yes, in Nibbles' fleeting moments of frolicking and rolling, I saw an unmistakable boundless joy, simple yet complete. And though I may never know for sure, I could swear she smiled as she rolled. Oh, what a rodent that was!
So to Nibbles and all rodents who bring joy to their owners during their short lives, I sing praise, and give thanks to God for populating the earth with such fascinating, adorable creatures.
With the countless millions of rodents in this world, Nibbles had a totally original personality. She was an individual...a perfectly formed, single, unique snowflake...a one-of-a-kind living presence. I had other hamsters as pets before and after Nibbles, but she was different. She was self-assured, fearless, and inspiring...a role model for all other hamsters to come. Oh, what a rodent that was!
I see Nibbles rolling as she always did, but now in hamster heaven, rolling freely beyond the wind, beyond time, beyond any plastic constraints on her freedom, beyond all pain, forever.
And, as I think back on this very special hamster with fond memories, I say to myself, "God bless you, Nibbles. Keep on rollin'."
Oh, what a rodent that was!
Editor's note: Joel R. Cooper was a professional medical writer/reporter and pre-med student in Denver, Colorado USA. His email address was: jcooper@medreport.com