A long time ago, in a kids room not so far away…lives a seemingly normal hamster that continues to amaze and delight the family of the vessel Inagua 2320, in the Subsystem Winter Park of the Galaxy Floree’da. Dory is her name and escape is her game.
Since our last encounter with Dory, we’ve found her means of escaping from her domicile. We quickly remedied this by taping the said area so that she couldn’t use it like the Birdman of Alcatraz to run the halls of our home. Or so we thought. One can only assume that this cute little fury friend is at one with the Force. No other explanation could exist. Without visual effects, I can only illustrate through this short tale of our family pet and her most recent adventures.
Dory, using the Jedi Force Push, lifts and throws the exercise wheel and tube attachment from the top of her cage, leaving a gaping hole for escape. “Tape matters not”, she says, and begins to climb her way out of her cage. Balanced high atop Josh’s dresser, Dory Force Jumps to the floor and runs, top speed, to the location of the Cat Monsters feeding grounds.
The first Cat she encounters is O’Malley, the male. As is typical, O’Malley is cozied up in his kitty bed near the front windows and has no idea Dory is lurking about. O’Malley saws California Redwood trees while sleeping, and thus couldn’t hear a legion of hamsters walking through the house. She is safe for the moment.
Onward to the feeding grounds. The journey is long and treacherous. The sun is beginning to rise and the Giant humans are waking from their slumber. She hides in a small crevice near the feeding grounds and waits patiently for her chance to move when suddenly the Red Alert sirens go off. They’ve discovered her missing! She sees the humans running frantically to and from looking for any sign of her. The eldest human sighs and resigns himself to the fact that she’s either been eaten or is hiding in a new place. The kids and the eldest leave the home and all is quiet again.
Dory emerges and creeps to the feeding ground. Silently she spots the two female Cats and uses her Jedi Mind Trick to fool them into not seeing her. “See me, you do not”, she whispers and she waves her little paw. Success! The Cats are indifferent to her presence. The weak minded are so easily fooled. The food in the feeding ground is all but hers!!! She begins to stuff large amounts of food into her cheeks for the journey back. As she’s about to finish, she feels the ground tremble. Slowly she turns.
There, towering high above her is the lady of the house. She freezes for what seems an eternity before pulling herself together. She waves her paw, “See me, you do not”. Nothing happens. The human smiles. Again, “See me, you do not!!” as she concentrates with all her might. The human’s will is too strong. The Jedi Mind Trick isn’t working. The human bends to swoop her up and cradles her in her hands.
“I don’t know how you do it Dory, but you’ve got to stop getting out. The cats are going to get you and your luck will run out.”, the human says as she places her back into her cage.
“Fat chance”, Dory mumbles. “Those walking carpets couldn’t see catnip if it were hanging from their necks”.
We fully expect another escape attempt and are currently looking for a maximum security facility. One that will be impossible to escape from. Even from the lightsaber Dory surely must be building, as she plans her next escape.
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Thursday, April 28, 2005
Great Piggie Hunt of 2003
Great Piggie Hunt of 2003
Before I start, those of you who don't live in our household will need to understand the term "piggie". Our oldest Daughter Krista has a Guinea Pig (Fozzie) and my son Josh has a Hamster (Dory). Drew, our youngest daughter, obviously can't pronounce all of that yet, so she settles for "Piggie" for both of them.
Anyway, I'm getting ready to leave for work yesterday morning and Krista tells me I have to come see Fozzie. He was laying outside of his little house inside his cage, which is rare for him. To us it means he's probably getting more comfortable with his surroundings. To Fozzie, it probably is a way to tease our largest cat O'Malley. O'Malley likes to stick his paws in the cage and Fozzie has learned to reciprocate with a slight nibble on
whatever O'Malley decides to stick in his cage. 'Nuff said.
Well, I decided to check on Dory, who lives above Fozzie in a penthouse suite in the skeye eye eye. This is to prevent O'Malley from reaching her, but to also keep Drew from removing key parts of the cage that would otherwise give Dory complete freedom. I didn't recognize Dory in her cage, but she hides, so I proceeded to check on the stuffing in her cage to see where she was. After poking and prodding for about 2 minutes, I came to the realization that one of the "key parts" that I mentioned was askew and left a gaping hole that Dory could escape from.
And so the Great Piggie Hunt of 2003 had begun. Krista and I tore up the girls room, closets, dressers and then woke my wife Tina up to help us tear everything up just one more time. No piggie. We looked under couches, beds, kitchen appliances, even in places she could never possible have reached. At this point, I'm late for work, Krista is late for school and Tina is awake far earlier than she should have been with nothing to show for it.
We head to our bedroom once more to cover the same ground a third time, cause twice wasn't enough and I point out to Tina that one of the cats is hoarding cat food under our vanity and beside some boxes. Tina takes the flashlight and low and behold we reach the end of the grueling Great Piggie Hunt of 2003. There sits Dory with a clump of tissue she has fashioned into a bed, along with about one cat food bowls worth of dry cat food. Safe and sound, she's put back into her cage and everyone sighs a big relief.
To really appreciate what she'd done, you have to understand the layout of our home. Dory lives some 5 feet above sea level on top of Fozzie's cage, who resides on top the girls dresser. She escaped from her cage and plummeted 5 feet to the ground, squeezed under a closed door and made her way to our bedroom on the complete opposite side of the house. To top that off, she pulled toilet paper from someplace (it was clean), and made herself a bed, presumably tired from the trek she made cross country in the night.
Then, amongst 3 highly trained killers we have as cats, she manages to trek back into the kitchen area to retrieve cat food from the very bowl the killers eat from, stowing away at least one of three bowls worth of food in her hideout.
Saying Dory is skilled is an understatement. She's a covert specialist in my book. Either that, or we have 3 of the laziest, most stupid cats in the world. Dogs rule.
Before I start, those of you who don't live in our household will need to understand the term "piggie". Our oldest Daughter Krista has a Guinea Pig (Fozzie) and my son Josh has a Hamster (Dory). Drew, our youngest daughter, obviously can't pronounce all of that yet, so she settles for "Piggie" for both of them.
Anyway, I'm getting ready to leave for work yesterday morning and Krista tells me I have to come see Fozzie. He was laying outside of his little house inside his cage, which is rare for him. To us it means he's probably getting more comfortable with his surroundings. To Fozzie, it probably is a way to tease our largest cat O'Malley. O'Malley likes to stick his paws in the cage and Fozzie has learned to reciprocate with a slight nibble on
whatever O'Malley decides to stick in his cage. 'Nuff said.
Well, I decided to check on Dory, who lives above Fozzie in a penthouse suite in the skeye eye eye. This is to prevent O'Malley from reaching her, but to also keep Drew from removing key parts of the cage that would otherwise give Dory complete freedom. I didn't recognize Dory in her cage, but she hides, so I proceeded to check on the stuffing in her cage to see where she was. After poking and prodding for about 2 minutes, I came to the realization that one of the "key parts" that I mentioned was askew and left a gaping hole that Dory could escape from.
And so the Great Piggie Hunt of 2003 had begun. Krista and I tore up the girls room, closets, dressers and then woke my wife Tina up to help us tear everything up just one more time. No piggie. We looked under couches, beds, kitchen appliances, even in places she could never possible have reached. At this point, I'm late for work, Krista is late for school and Tina is awake far earlier than she should have been with nothing to show for it.
We head to our bedroom once more to cover the same ground a third time, cause twice wasn't enough and I point out to Tina that one of the cats is hoarding cat food under our vanity and beside some boxes. Tina takes the flashlight and low and behold we reach the end of the grueling Great Piggie Hunt of 2003. There sits Dory with a clump of tissue she has fashioned into a bed, along with about one cat food bowls worth of dry cat food. Safe and sound, she's put back into her cage and everyone sighs a big relief.
To really appreciate what she'd done, you have to understand the layout of our home. Dory lives some 5 feet above sea level on top of Fozzie's cage, who resides on top the girls dresser. She escaped from her cage and plummeted 5 feet to the ground, squeezed under a closed door and made her way to our bedroom on the complete opposite side of the house. To top that off, she pulled toilet paper from someplace (it was clean), and made herself a bed, presumably tired from the trek she made cross country in the night.
Then, amongst 3 highly trained killers we have as cats, she manages to trek back into the kitchen area to retrieve cat food from the very bowl the killers eat from, stowing away at least one of three bowls worth of food in her hideout.
Saying Dory is skilled is an understatement. She's a covert specialist in my book. Either that, or we have 3 of the laziest, most stupid cats in the world. Dogs rule.
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