With Mum and Lucy still sleeping, me and Dad went looking for Stinky again.
When we got to the field, we walked in the same direction that we’d seen Stinky run off in.
‘What are we looking for exactly?’ Dad asked.
‘A hole in the ground. A hamster-sized hole. The opening for a burrow.’
We’d been going for a few minutes when I saw a little hole just in front of me. I scrambled onto my hands and knees and stared into it.
‘Stinky?’ I called. ‘Are you in there? It’s Ben!’
I waited, but there was no answer and no movement at all.
So I got up and went on searching. There were more holes, and I called and looked in every one. But no sign of Stinky.
Then I spotted something on the grass – something round, very small and brown.
I wasn’t certain, but it looked like one of Stinky’s poos. I got down on my knees to study it more closely and I’d never been so happy to see a poo in my life. I sniffed it. It looked like one of his, but I couldn’t be sure.
My dad gave me a funny look. ‘Step away from the poo, son.’
‘I think it’s Stinky’s,’ I said.
‘Or, more likely,’ he said, ‘a mouse or a rat or some other rodent who actually lives out here.’
I got up and we kept walking.
After a while, my dad turned to me again. ‘I really don’t think he would’ve come this far,’ he said sadly. ‘Stinky’s only got tiny legs, remember.’ When I looked over my shoulder to see how far we’d come, our car was just a speck in the distance. ‘We should turn back,’ he added.
But I knew my hamster better than anyone. Stinky wouldn’t have stopped until he was safely away from all the people and animals at the pet show. Who knew how far he’d go?
‘Just a bit further, Dad,’ I pleaded
He nodded reluctantly, but it didn’t take much longer for me to start losing hope too. I was still calling Stinky’s name, but more and more desperately now.
‘You know, Ben,’ my dad started, ‘it’s hard, but sometimes you have to say goodbye.’ He was using his serious voice – a voice he saved for very special occasions.
‘When I was young,’ he went on, ‘I had a little black-and-white dog called Meg. We did everything together, me and Meg. She was the best dog ever – always bouncing around, chasing cats, having fun. And then she got old. We still spent lots of time together, but she didn’t have the same energy any more.
She spent most of the day dozing. Then one day, just after my thirteenth birthday, she fell asleep. She didn’t wake up again. But even though Meg had died,’ my dad explained, ‘she never left me, not really, because I still remember her, even now. She lives on in my memory. Do you see what I’m saying, Ben?’
I did, but it didn’t make me feel any better. My dad walked away from me, still looking for Stinky, though I could tell his heart wasn’t in it.
I stopped walking and took a deep breath.
‘Goodbye, Stinky,’ I whispered. And then, louder, ‘Goodbye, Stinky!’ Finally I yelled it at the top of my voice:
‘Goodbye, Stinky!’
And that’s when I saw it – a small hole in the ground just in front of me, and something moving inside it.
I stared, open-mouthed.
A little nose poked out, and two tiny eyes blinked back at me.
‘Stinky?’ I said.
‘Well, I don’t see any other hamsters around here,’ he muttered.
I whooped with joy.
‘Hello, Stinky!’ I yelled.
