How my husband buried a hamster? Suicide of the Mouse of Masha of
Short background: in 2009 all forces of our family were thrown on rescue of a hamster rather of a homyachikha which did not manage to be delivered. Operation of Cesarean section was performed on it, children did not manage to be rescued. We long nursed Masha, pricked her antibiotics and the strengthening pricks, removed seams and in any other ways caused to her kindly.
After operation of Cesarean section Masha sharply grew wiser. It had an unprecedented intelligence - she began to run from all cages in which we placed it. Is to whom to compare - rather stupid husband of Masha, a hamster by the name of Georgy Vereshchagin, rattled the whole nights rods of the cage as the runaway convict, but could not get out to freedom. And Masha was stopped by neither invisible beings, nor delays which I tried to strengthen doors in its cage. Masha spent half an hour for gnawing through three plastic ropes which I tied up her housing. If to consider that on freedom it was waited by three cats, the cat and two cats are more faithful, then I can compare her behavior only to behavior of the heroine Uma Thurman from the movie “Kill Bill“.
However, cats do not touch it (A mouse I Wave, but not Uma Thurman), in their scale of ranks Masha is in the category of “A valuable master`s thing“ (children in the same place) therefore they only cautiously press close to walls when Masha darts about along corridors.
Masha made the last escape in January, 2010. Before all its escapes were somehow controlled, I even asked the nurse of my younger child to look in off-duty time whether it will be scratched where - nibud our Mouse Masha. Respectively, I came back home with a question: “The mouse was caught?“ We with the nurse even giggled periodically that I am such angry employer that I force the nurse to catch in off-duty time of mice.
But Cars escape nobody controlled the last. We even understood not at once that the cage is empty. There was already late evening, children went to bed, and we with the husband decided that we will look for the fugitive or later, or the next evening - to look for hamsters is useless in the afternoon, they sleep in secluded places.
At night I several times got up, came into the nursery and listened - whether is scraped where Masha? It was silent. Once again, already at three o`clock in the morning, I Wave found. It was already dead. The hamster failed between a bedside table and the table which is close standing to it and, probably, choked. It was necessary to wake the husband to remove heavy furniture from a chipboard and to get Masha.
Having wrapped a little body in a rag and in a package, we put Masha on a balcony - as in January, 2010 was minus thirty five degrees there. Next morning organized a funeral No. 1: wrapped up children more warmly and, having armed with a pink plastic shovel, dug Masha during snow about a tree in the next wood to rebury it closer by spring when the earth thaws and in it it will be possible to dig out a pole.
I cried when I packed a lifeless little body of a hamster into a package, at night. I wanted to ask for the Mouse of forgiveness that did not save it and did not follow it. Still I told the Mouse Masha thanks. For the fact that it was in my life. Whether each hamster can brag that he installed self-confidence in the person? And the Mouse to Masha managed it.
We dug Masha during snow in January. But firmly remembered that we should rebury our treasure nevertheless - it will be necessary to dig it when heat comes to our Siberian earth.
My husband for a minute did not forget about the forthcoming procedure - watched a weather forecast, came to see the territory regarding burial plunder. At last, organized all family on a trip to hypermarket with a noble purpose - to buy products. But purchase of an engineer shovel - the menacing tool height in a half of human growth, black color and extremely sharp was the real purpose of the husband.
Warm May days came, there came time of community work days - and we seriously were frightened, as if did not find our Masha during cleaning and shoveling of snowdrifts and did not take out on a garbage can. Therefore I went, found our parcel lying untouched (I was in time for half an hour prior to total cleaning of the territory) and brought home. How it is wild sounded - we put Masha in the refrigerator. A funeral No. 2 was appointed next day.
Except an engineer shovel, for the purpose of the Mashiny funeral, in hypermarket the husband got also other ritual objects without which a funeral would not take place: sausages with cheese, packing of charcoal and (attention!) 5 liter kega of Hayneken beer. Loaded with all this ammunition, for the day following after a May community work day we moved forward in the wood. The daughter called with herself the girlfriend, the son cheerfully collected firewood - only we with the husband realized solemnity of the moment and importance of mission.
A funeral No. 2 of the Mouse of Masha took place imperceptibly. The husband dug out an engineer shovel a big pole, I put Masha and told several parting words. Children fried on a sausage fire with cheese at this time, drank “Sprite“ and did not pay attention to us. I worried only about one - that I rolled up Masha in very large number of packages. I believe what live has to go to the earth again to become live. According to the theory of resettlement of souls.
Picnic was successful wonderfully well. Whether there was it in honor of Masha, or in honor of a community work day - it was important to nobody. Three hungry children did not allow us to go deep with the husband into abysses of a grief. Put on picnic always fully - to cut bread, to fry sausages, to equally distribute lemonade on glasses. About a kega with Hayneken beer the husband did not forget too - especially, yesterday he took it for work to brag to friends, and those heartlessly devastated a vessel.
On the middle of picnic of a keg declared that it came to an end. The husband did not consider it as sufficient argument to lag behind a zhbanchik, and was engaged with a keg in difficult manipulations. Solve I their nature earlier - would be problems less. Well: the husband, having armed with an engineer shovel, began to open in the middle a 5 liter keg (kega) from - under beer. The shovel gradually fell, the ring was carried on vicinities. Everything ended when Roma cut off to himself a half-finger. Yes. So all also was - a torn edge of a 5 liter keg which Roma tried to unbend, in hope to satisfy dream of all boys “To learn that there inside? “, raspolosovat to Roma a forefinger of the left hand so that in blood there was a half of the wood, and I immediately wanted to send this person to an accident ward of ambulance because the wound of such size is subject to mending.
I do not think that it is necessary to declare who from this minute became hero of the day. Children, as could, collected packages, bread and skewers. Extinguished a fire. Roma acted ahead of a procession. From his finger blood dripped, showing all a way home.
The most unpleasant waited for me when I by phone began to report next morning on the mother-in-law and the mother that I happened. You will tell how I could, being in good health, to declare to the mother-in-law that her forty-year-old son, the head of department and the father of two children, was strongly cut. And only because, being in an alcohol intoxication and the upset feelings owing to a funeral of a hamster, an engineer shovel opened a 5 liter empty kega of beer to look that at it there inside?
I cannot go to such frankness and therefore almost honestly I tell all grandmothers that their son (son-in-law) scratched to himself a finger, raskovyrivy a small can in hope to make of it capacity to fill in a fire - to gather waters from a pool. Grandmothers trust. I process week peroxide a laceration on the husband`s finger.
But we buried Masha. I am grateful to it for the fact that without it there would be no stories: “As the Mouse Masha, or Cesarean section at a hamster gave birth“. And this story would not be too. Hamsters live in bondage two years. As it is terrible a little to our human measures. As sometimes there is nothing to tell about the one who lived seventy years. And as sometimes it is possible to write much about the one who did not live even two. Means, he for some reason lived. Means, it for some reason was. Means, it for some reason...