The Night We Buried Sammy's Hamster

The Night We Buried Sammy's Hamster

by Jayme's Mommy 1999 The Night we buried Sammy's Hamster was a very special night.  We waited for this event all day.  Our best friend, Sammy, was very sad.  He loved his little hamster.  Sammy's mother cried too. Despite the grief and sadness, we went to the beach that day.  The waves were rough.  They were coming from every direction.  Sammy said, "they are double jointed."  He stood on the shoreline for a while.  He said the water was cold.  His friend, Jayme, ran right into the surf, without a thought.  But Sammy took his time.  Before long, the boys wrestled the tireless waves and rode it's surf.  They played for several hours. Soon after we arrived home, Jayme begged to see Hamster's lifeless body.  His eyes were open !  Perhaps he was still alive !!  The boys wanted desperately to believe the vet could resuscitate Hamster.   Sammy's mom assured them that Hamster was, indeed, dead. The burial took place in a garden where vegetables grow.  When I arrived, the boys were patting the soil that covered the shallow hole that Sammy's mom had prepared earlier that day.   Sammy's mom and his brother, Matthew, were there.  Their mom was the first to place a flower on the grave.  She stuck the bottom of the stem into the soft earth so that the flower stood up.  Matthew helped Jayme prop a sunflower against the fence.  Soon, there were five small flowers and one sunflower decorating Hamster's grave. It was Jayme's idea that each of us should say a few words.  Jayme talked to Hamster as if his spirit - his life force - were still alive, "please remember us, we will always remember you."  With his head hung low, Sammy softly said, "I loved you Hamster and I will miss you." Sammy came over to our house later that evening.  The two boys watched some t.v. together.  They sat on the edge of the bed of a pull-out sofa and ate macaroni and cheese.  Noone mentioned Hamster.  Shortly after, Sammy gazed out the window for several moments.  Then he said, "I better go home now, it's getting late."

Rocks and Beans

They get in these big bags of beans and have to wash them and remove the stones.  This, he was told by the manager of the Taco Cafe.  After finding a small rock in his burrito, he called the store and asked to speak with a manager. Privy to such customer service issues being that he works at MacDonald's, they spoke Manager to Manager.   I was ticked that he was letting them off the hook so easy.

He proclaimed, "Those must be some fresh beans if I'm biting down on a rock!"

Jayme's Shawna Cat

She was one or two years older than he. He never
abused her but had she been any other, she would not
have tolerated him. Yet, she craved affection and
he provided. Often, with his arm wrapped under her
belly with legs dangling, he'd carry her off to his
room. He held her captive in his bed.
She cried to be released, but he'd stoke her body,
coaxing her to settle in.
He'd talk to her, reassure her the while.
And finally, she would succomb.

Countless hours, they spent like this. If he didn't
drag her off to his bed, he was dragging her off to
the couch. Oftentimes you would find them asleep
together, in the bed, on the couch, on the floor.
They truly loved each other.

For years they had traveled in the car together.
She cried mercilessly and he would perform his majic on
her. Endlessly reassuring her, talking to her, petting her.

Once, when he was a baby, not yet one year old,
across the room I saw him on the floor and he was gasping.
It sounded like cries for help. With all four of her
paws atop his head, the cat was clawing at his head.

Her front paws had been declawed but I knew those
back claws were sharp.
Immediately, I ran to his rescue to discover that he
was laughing. Clearly cat and child were
involved in some form of play.

They carried on like this for 12 years until we left
for Japan. We had to leave several pets behind.
Grandma buried Mrs. Jingles, the pet mouse, the
first year. The second year, Sam, the neighbor's cat that
had come to live with us.

Grandma called us during the school day to advise us
of these deaths. "Why me?" Jayme would ask. "Why
does everything bad happen to me?" And then the
inevitable, "Why did we have to come to Japan?"

This time, things are so very different.

Jayme was finishing up his last school year in
Japan. He was enjoying the festivities and some
sudden new friendships. Grandma had sense not to cast
a shadow over any of it. Shawna's bowls, full of food and
water continued to be set out. Since Memorial day weekend,
people would assume the cat was outside. Grandma awaited
Jayme's return.

I called to see if he and his X-Box arrived safely.
Jayme answered the phone. They were on their way to
Crickets, our favorite restaurant. Just before he
left Japan yesterday, he was wondering if he should have the
hamburger or a steak.

But he was unusually quiet now.

We were both comfortable with the silence, but I was
concerned. I fear for the boy's happiness, always.
I have not been a role model for happiness throughout
his life. He was such a playful and happy child but
I'd been prone to episodes of melancholy.

"I don't have much to say," he said. Then, after
another brief pause, he told me.

We continued to hold the phone in silence. I asked
few questions. Grandma hadn't told anyone else.
She waited since Memorial Day. She told him just
before they entered the house.

Be Careful What You Wish For

INTRODUCTION

Thursday, January 26, 2006

We've already read Sylvester and the magic pebble and King Midas and the golden touch










Today, the children listen to a cassette recording
of a telephone conversation.








Lesson/Moral: Be careful what you wish for

I feel so guilty, Jayme blames me for uprooting him
from his friends. I'm sorry that my career has taken
us to Japan. I have taken him away from all his friends.

I have the children listen to an answering machine tape.
On it is a telephone conversation that
took place just after World Trade Center
disaster. My library professor from Stony Brook apparently called and Jayme picked up just after the machine did.  Dan is telling Jayme how they can hear the helicopters overhead, bringing patients into the hospital, all day long, as he is in the library building at the University

Jayme responds : If there is going to be another airplane
crash, something serious like that - I don't want to
live in this country.


AHA: I exclaim to my listeners. IT ISN'T MY FAULT AFTER ALL.
It's actually his own fault that we are here. He wished for it and didn't
even realize it.


KIDS JUST LOVE this stuff.  Jayme hates it.  When the kids see him in the hallway, they taunt him !

The Birds I View / A Bird's Eye View

A Pop Pop Story

Your Mom is Not a Doormat

Jayme asked me to apologize to people that I was angry with. "Please, Jayme, you can have relationships with these people, but I'm not a doormat."

The One Bug We Do NOT Like

A SPIDER IS NOT A BUG
Dewey has a general classification for the classifications of creatures

595 Insects and Spiders
595.7 Insects


We like spiders, it's the mosquito 

and those pesky biting flies at the beach, come to think of it.

www.mosquitos.blogspot.com