Remember Jack Hanna? He was a regular guest on the old Johnny Carson show. He's show up in safari garb carrying a burlap sack that contained some endangered Ring-eyed Khubla Mormot. He'd pull the ball of fur out of the sack and hand it to Johnny. The Ring-eyed Khubla Mormot would immediately crawl up on Johnny's head and poop like there's no tomorrow. Ah, that's good television.
Anyway, I would like to proclaim myself the New Jack Hannah.
I crashed early last night...around 10:15 pm. At 11 pm, I heard Kelsey go out to the kitchen for a glass of water and proclaim "Uh oh." I wandered out to find her staring at the hamster cage like John the Revelator (with an open door before her).
Grayson got a Black Bear Hamster for Christmas and named him Kiwi. Truth be told, Kiwi more hamster than black bear, but the resemblance is there. Grayson loves this little guy and keeps him in Taj Mahal of hamster cages. Unfortunately, last night the drawbridge was lowered and the moat was empty. Kiwi was gone.
Finding a hamster in a 3 bedroom ranch is somewhat akin to finding a needle in a haystack, with the exception of two things: the needle doesn't move that much, and if necessary, one can burn the haystack to the ground. Unable to stop the first variable and unwilling to exercise the second, I convinced Kelsey that if we left the door open, Kiwi would wander back for a drink of water and go to bed. I said this very convincingly, although I had little to no belief in my own theory. I was just tired and ready to go back to bed.
Lo and behold, guess who was in his little cubby this morning? You got it. Kiwi had returned to his cage, a triumphal reentry of the rodentary kind. All is well in kingdom. Good has been done here. And best of all, Grayson slept through the whole drama.