The house was in chaos! The windows were wide open, the hall rug was rolled up, and Mom was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor.

“What’s going on?” asked Joe.

“Oh, hi, boys,” said Mom, looking up. Her eyes were red, and it sounded like she had a stuffy nose. “Have a good day?” She got up and gave them each a big wet kiss. “Sorry, I think we’ve got dust mites. Or it might be mice. I’m not sure, but I can’t stop sneezing, so there must be something nasty around.”

Joe groaned. That’s probably Dumpling!

“Would you like to help me?” Mom asked. “I’ll give you both some extra allowance money. Toby, you can dust the dining room.”

“Yes, please!” He grinned, taking a duster from her.

“And, Joe, would you mind finishing the floor while I start on the living room?” She handed him the scrubbing brush she was holding, then went to fetch the vacuum cleaner. A moment later it roared to life in the next room.

At the sound of the vacuum cleaner turning on, there was a sudden jerk from inside Joe’s book bag. Dumpling popped out of the top like a champagne cork, landing with a thud on the ground, and took off.

“Dumpling, come back!” hissed Joe, chasing after him into the kitchen. But he was nowhere to be seen. Joe checked the bread box, the cookie jar, and the cupboards. Nothing. Then he heard a noise coming from the freezer—a crunching, gnawing sort of a noise. Joe opened the door, and there was Dumpling, squished up in the corner, munching his way through a box of fish sticks.

“Dumpling!” said Joe. “What are you doing in there?”

“It’s the only place I can’t hear that terrible vacuum cleaner,” wailed the hamster.

“You can’t stay in there, you’ll freeze!” Then Joe remembered—Dumpling was not a normal hamster, he was an undead one! “Oh right.”

The hamster scowled at him. “Shut the door and leave me alone!”

“Well, at least stop eating all the fish sticks.”

“Oh, not again!” said a sarcastic voice. It was Sarah. She shook her head. “Don’t tell me—your imaginary friend lives in the freezer?”

Joe closed the door with a thump. “I haven’t got an imaginary friend!” he snapped, and stomped back to the hall to scrub the floor.

The moment he’d finished, he sneaked back to the kitchen to check on Dumpling, but he was gone. (Along with two boxes of fish sticks, a bag of frozen peas, and half a tub of chocolate ice cream.)

“How about fried chicken for dinner?” said Mom, appearing behind him. “It was going to be fish sticks, but it looks like we’ve run out. Dad’s going to pick up some chicken on his way home. Help yourself to a snack, in the meantime.”

“Mom, can I use the computer?” asked Joe. “I’ve got to do some research for a school project about pets.”

“Oh, you’ll enjoy that!” Mom picked up the furniture polish. “Okay, but don’t make a mess. You know how Dad hates crumbs in the keyboard.”

Joe grabbed a bag of chips and a carton of chocolate milk and headed for the dining room. He knew he should be looking for Dumpling, but he was really enjoying a break from the troublesome rodent. He needed to find out more about hamsters. And most important of all, he wanted to check whether Uncle Charlie had e-mailed back!

He clicked on his mom’s e-mail account. There were no new messages.

Joe sighed. Uncle Charlie was probably up to his neck in dinosaur bones or something.

He opened the web browser instead and typed hamsters into the search bar. He found lots of good sites, including one about health problems. It had loads of facts about hamster teeth, and that gave Joe an idea.

But he didn’t have long to think about it, because the front door opened just then, and the delicious smell of fried chicken and french fries wafted through the house.

“Dinner!” Dad called.

Joe kept an eye out for Dumpling as the family sat down for dinner. He didn’t have to wait long. He’d only managed one bite before the hamster hauled himself up onto the table and started chowing down.

“Mmmm, tasty!” he said, eating a whole french fry in one go, like a sword-swallower in a circus.

Meanwhile, Mom’s nose had started twitching again, and Joe knew it wouldn’t be long before the sneezing started. He wolfed down his dinner as fast as he could.

“Slow down, Joe,” said Dad. “It’s not a race.”

“Yeah, Joe, you’re eating like a pig!” Sarah sneered.

But Joe didn’t care. He was watching Mom. Her eyes were watering now. Any minute the sneezing would start . . .

ACHOOO! Mom buried her nose in a tissue.

Joe swallowed the last of his french fries, grabbed the hamster, and stood up. “I’m just going to finish my homework,” he said. And before anyone could tell him it was his turn to clear the table, he ran for it!

“You’ve gotten me into trouble so many times today,” Joe said when they were back in his bedroom. “I couldn’t even eat my dinner.”

“I can’t help it. Don’t you understand that I’m upset? I’ve been replaced!” Dumpling sulked.

“I wish I could replace you,” muttered Joe. “Now stay out of trouble, or I’ll grab the vacuum cleaner and finish you off myself!”

Dumpling gasped and ran under Joe’s bed, looking horrified. He didn’t reappear for the rest of the evening.

At bedtime, Joe dug out a bag of mini candy bars he’d been saving since Christmas. “I’ve put some candy out,” he called. “Eat as many as you like . . .” Hopefully they’ll keep him busy for the night.

There was no reply from Dumpling.

“Suit yourself!” Joe said as he got into bed. Moments later, he was asleep.

Joe awoke suddenly. What’s that noise? He glanced at his clock. It was past midnight. He listened. There it was again—a thumping sound, coming from the kitchen. “Dumpling!” he growled.

He grabbed his flashlight and tiptoed downstairs. The noise grew louder the closer he got to the kitchen. Joe pushed open the door and gasped . . .

There was stuff everywhere! Slices of bread were scattered all over the table, an open can of baked beans was spilled across the kitchen counter, and a jar of pickled onions was smashed on the floor.

Dumpling, who was sitting in the middle of it all, looked ready to cry. “I was hungry!”

“Trying to make a mess is more like it!” Joe grabbed some paper towels and started mopping up the juice from the baked beans.

Dumpling gave a stinky burp, then put his head in his paws and blubbered. “I can’t help it. I’m so worried about Oliver!”

Joe was about to reply when he heard footsteps. Uh-oh. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who’d been awoken by the noise!

“Joe! What’s going on down here?” It was Mom. She was dressed in her nightgown, and her nose was still red from sneezing

“Um . . . well . . . ,” stammered Joe. “I was a bit hungry, so I thought I’d make a snack.”

“Some snack!” Mom looked at him angrily. She was usually pretty cool about messes, but even her patience was pushed to the limit by this disaster! Then she sighed. “Watch out for that broken glass, Joe. I’ll fetch the vacuum cleaner.”

“NOOO!” Dumpling wailed. “Not the vacuum!” He took off like an Olympic sprinter and sped out of the kitchen.

Joe sighed and helped his mom clean up the rest of the mess. While she put the vacuum cleaner away, Joe sneaked a loaf of bread and some jam up to his bedroom, just in case Dumpling got the munchies before morning. But when he got upstairs, he couldn’t see the hamster anywhere. He dumped the food on his desk, climbed back into bed, and fell asleep.