The Best/Worst Aunt Ever

“To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.”George MacDonald


A few days ago, my brother Eddie and his wife Kimmy entrusted me with a very important duty: take care of Rhino until Christmas Eve. By doing so, I would preserve the element of surprise for my nieces and nephew, Maggie, Lane and Price.

Rhino is a hamster, named after the movie Bolt. I agreed to take care of Rhino, because I love being an aunt, and I love pets. Of course I took him out of his cage and petted him every day to make sure he would be a good pet. I kept him far from Marzipan, in the laundry room. And I always wished him goodnight.

This morning, I went for a little run around the neighborhood. Then I said to Marzipan, "Let's say good morning to Rhino." A rather enormous shock awaited me: the top latch was open, the one on top of the turret where Rhino frequently naps. Rhino was gone.

I really couldn't believe it. The hamster was either an escape artist, or I left the latch half open. (I like to lean towards the Escape Artist Hamster theory.)

Of course, the first thing I did was to take the most logical course of action. Obviously, this was to burst into tears. Then I started looking for him. When you are hunting for a hamster, it does not help to be crying heavily. I didn't get very far, although I did find some hamster droppings. Since I was useless as a hamster detective, I called my brother Eddie.

My brother Eddie is always prepared. He stepped out of his fiery red car, flashlight in hand. He began scouring the tiny crevices in my house like some kind of Ninja, shining the light into dark places full of forgotten batteries and dust bunnies. Marzipan was locked in the bathroom to avoid the spilling of Rhino's blood should we find him. She added to the drama of the morning nicely, howling like a monsoon. The bunnies were scuttling around their cage. They don't even like it when the garbage man swings by, so imagine their discontent.

I showed Eddie the droppings, and he agreed their source was definitely a hamster. Then he found some more in the hall closet.

"But these have dust on them," he said.

"I looked in here already. I might have stirred up a little dust, which then fell on the droppings," I said.

Then he moved the portable toilet my sister gave me in case of a... okay I'm not sure what the portable toilet is for. And there, looking up into the beam of the flashlight was a furry little reddish critter. I screamed loudly into my brother's ear, as I did not expect to find Rhino. Especially alive.

But he was alive! Oh, the joy! I do not have to go down in history as the world's worst, most incompetent aunt. Or les incompetent as they say in France, and in Home Alone.

I do not have a picture of Rhino currently, as he is in seclusion.

“I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish He didn't trust me so much.”

Mother Teresa of Calcutta


Image courtesy of Google