The Long Short (Probably Happy) Life of Sissi
Sissi on her house. |
Sissi was a hamster. She was suspicious of strangers. She hated being touched by people. She had three different homes and four different owners in her life.
Despite all of that, she lived three years – three lifetimes for a Siberian hamster – and most of it was good.
Kata inherited Sissi from her ex, so the pet-to-owner relationship started off awkwardly. Sissi's cage sat beside Kata's desk, so while she was freelancing they spent a lot of time together. Gradually, they came around and developed an understanding.
Sissi moved in with me when Kata left to Berlin for work. I don't think she liked me in the beginning. When I came over to Kata's place, she'd squeak at me and keep me awake in the night, digging in her wood shavings and shimmying on the bars of her cage.
I put her in my front hall, where her nocturnal shenanigans would not disturb me. I also refused to get attached, since she was over a year old at the time – an old lady in hamster years. Kata would ask after her and I would worry about having to tell her that Sissi died.
She didn't die, so I didn't have to follow through on any strange plans of burying her in Karoly Kert at night. Like all good roommate arrangements, we gave each other space. She had her room, I had mine. I would only take her out to put her in her hamster ball while I cleaned the cage. As time went by, we developed a rhythm, I'd feed her and talk to her (I was told you're supposed to do that) and she would do her usual hamster-y things.
Then I left Budapest.
Once more Sissi was passed on, this time to Monica, who wanted a pet. I walked Sissi in her cage to Monica's place. She cried and screeched the whole way down Vaci utca. I kept it together, mostly.
Once again, Sissi somehow lived beyond expectations. Monica and her spent a year together – until last night – which was likely the most stable and comfortable Sissi had been since leaving Kata's flat. For a short life, it was a long one, and likely a happy one.
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