The Weet.

This afternoon, as I was getting ready to leave the house, I stopped to chat with The Weet and noticed he was.. unwell. Long (sad, weepy, miserable) story short, I took him to the vet where they euthanised him. And then the vet assistants cried with me for a bit. Even the vet had red-rimmed eyes – she admitted she owns a dwarf hamster herself. It was sad, funny and sad some more.

The part that caused me to break into hysterics – to sob and sob – was when they returned The Weet to me wrapped in cotton and placed in a small box. The assistant leaned in and held out her hand to me – and, as she opened her fingers, I saw a small flat ‘disc’ of clay on which she had imprinted Weetie’s pawprint for me. Impossibly tiny. I could barely tell her how sweet it was – because I was too busy snorfling snot. Tomorrow the dogs have an appointment for their heartworm meds and a general checkup, and we’ll be picking up The Weet’s pawprint then (once it has dried).

It’s amazing how such a small creature – a dwarf hamster – can take up so much room in a person’s heart.