Later that night, Harold watched the Nature Channel show When Sharks Attack with me and Robbie. I think he was a little scared by those great white sharks. “Don’t worry, Harold. They won’t eat you. They live in the ocean, and you don’t even know how to swim!”
“OK, boys. It’s time to go to bed,” said my mom as she came in the room and turned off the TV.
“Aw, Mom, can’t we stay up just a little later? Harold wants to see the next episode of When Sharks Attack.”
“Oh, really? Harold does? I thought Harold was afraid of the sharks. Isn’t that what I just heard you say?”
“Yeah … uh …” I turned to Robbie. Robbie, help me out here, I mouthed.
“If he watches how the sharks behave, Mrs. Thresher, then he might overcome his fears.”
Is Robbie a genius, or what? “Good one,” I whispered.
“Nice try, boys, but it’s time for bed. Go brush your teeth.”
I picked up Harold’s cage. “Come on, Harold. Let’s go see if Princess Suzie is home yet and hogging the bathroom.”
When we got to the bathroom, the door was locked, so I pounded on it.
“Hold your horses, little brat! I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Yeah, right. More like a few hours,” I whispered to Robbie.
“Hey, I heard that!”
“Well, would you hurry up? Harold really hates to wait.”
Just then the bathroom door opened a crack. “Harold? Did you say Harold? Why didn’t you tell me the little cutie patootie was with you? Come right in,” Suzie said, opening the door wider and reaching for Harold’s cage.
Wow! Harold must have some kind of magic powers. He can turn the evil Suzie into a charming sister.
“Oh, you are such a cute, little, fluffy wuffy,” Suzie cooed into the cage. “I could just eat you up! Look at you!”
“You are such a weirdo.”
“Yes you are!” I said, making the cuckoo sign. Robbie and I burst out laughing.
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
Just then my dad stuck his head in the bathroom. “Hey, what’s the noise about? You are all supposed to be getting ready for bed. Freddy, can you hand me Harold’s cage?”
“Why, Dad?”
“Because I am taking Harold down to the kitchen. Your mom and I have decided that Harold will sleep in the kitchen.”
“The kitchen?”
“Yep, the kitchen. Do you remember I told you that hamsters are nocturnal? Harold is going to be partying all night long. He’ll be making lots of noise, and your mother and I don’t want him to keep you up all night, so he’s going to spend the night in the kitchen.”
“Please, Dad,” I pleaded. “Please let Harold stay with me and Robbie. We promise we’ll go right to sleep. He won’t keep us up.”
“I don’t think …”
“Just for tonight, Dad,” I interrupted. “Let’s see. If he keeps us up, then we’ll take him downstairs. I promise.”
“Well … “
I hugged my dad around the waist and looked at him with my “sad puppy” eyes. “Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
“Oh, all right.”
Yes! The sad puppy eyes work every time!
“Thanks, Dad. You’re the best!”
After we finished brushing our teeth, I filled up Harold’s water bottle and we went to my room. I put Harold’s cage right in between our two sleeping bags. “You’ll be safe tonight, little guy. Robbie and I will protect you. And if you have any nightmares, we always have the Dream Police.”
Harold looked up at me and wiggled his nose. Then he jumped on his hamster wheel and started running. My mom and dad walked in to say good night. “Looks like the party’s already started,” said my dad.
“Are you boys sure you don’t want us to put him in the kitchen? That wheel is awfully squeaky,” said my mom.
“We’re sure.”
“Well, just let us know if you change your minds, OK?”
“Good night,” said my mom. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” She gave us each a kiss.
“Good night,” said my dad. “Get some sleep.”
They turned off the light and shut the door.
As soon as we heard their footsteps disappear down the hall, Robbie and I turned on our flashlights. We wanted to watch Harold in action. Since he had slept most of the day, I wanted to see what he did when he was awake.
“Wow! He sure runs fast for such a little guy,” I said.
“Look at him go!” said Robbie. “I’m getting tired just watching him.”
“I wonder how fast he can actually run.”
“You mean how many miles per hour?”
“Yeah. Come on, Robbie. You must know. You know everything.”
“Well, not everything.”
“You mean there is something the ‘walking encyclopedia of science’ doesn’t know?”
“I don’t know how many miles per hour a hamster can run, but we can look it up on the Internet tomorrow morning.”
Robbie is a computer whiz. If there is something he doesn’t know, then he can definitely find the answer on the computer.
Harold finally got tired of running on the wheel and jumped off.
“I wonder if all that running makes the little guy thirsty?”
Harold waddled over to his water bottle and took a sip.
“I guess you know the answer to that question,” said Robbie with a chuckle.
“I guess so,” I said, laughing. “Robbie, you are so lucky you get to have pets in your house. I love having Harold.”
“It is really fun to have pets, but they are a big responsibility.”
“Now you sound like my mom.”
“But it’s true, Freddy. It’s a lot of work.”
“I’d love to have just one pet.”
“Well, be happy your mom let you bring Harold home for the weekend. That was really nice of her, considering she doesn’t like animals in the house.”
“I am happy. Really happy,” I said, smiling at Harold.
Robbie yawned. “I’m tired,” he said. “Let’s go to sleep.”
“OK. Good night, little guy,” I whispered to Harold. “Good night, Robbie. Don’t let the hamsters bite.”
“Very funny. Good night, Freddy.”
We turned off our flashlights, rolled over, and went to sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night I awoke to the sound of Suzie flushing the toilet. I decided to turn on my flashlight to check on Harold. I looked and then I rubbed my eyes and looked again. He was gone!
I shook Robbie. “Robbie, Robbie, wake up! Harold’s gone!”
