Page 56 of For the Love of Animals

As I got nearer, a strange vibration came from the package, and it began to inch its way across the table. Surely not? She couldn’t have meant a battery-operated boyfriend, could she? I mean, that box was massive.

The noise stopped, and I was tempted to walk right out of the door, away from the gifts and the mess and the piles of marking I was supposed to take home for the holidays. But then the package vibrated again, and curiosity got the better of me.

I tore open the paper to reveal a brown cardboard box, and when I flipped open the lid…

Freaking heck!

Pulse racing, I leapt back a foot and shrieked as two black eyes stared back at me. What was it?

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Maria skidded into the classroom.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? I heard a scream.”

“It’s…it’s…” I pointed at the box.

She stepped forwards and peered into the top. “A hamster? Why have you got a hamster?”

“Uh, it’s a Christmas gift?”

As well as the cage, Mrs. de Witt had included dried food, a bag of sawdust, and a packet of Royal Rodent Gourmet Apple Snax. How thoughtful. Meanwhile, the little ball of fluff kept running on his wheel, oblivious to the consternation he was causing.

“Good grief. Tristan Smythe gave me a ready-plucked pheasant from his father’s estate, but I think this might actually be worse. What will you do with it?”

“I have no idea. At the moment, I’m just panicking.”

“Haven’t you had a pet before?”

“Except for a goldfish, no. My little brother was allergic to anything with fur.”

The hamster climbed up the bars of the cage and poked his nose out, whiskers twitching as he took in the world beyond the box, and Maria and I both stepped back a pace.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Maybe you could take it back to the pet shop?”

“I don’t even know where they bought it.” I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “And I can’t risk offending them, not when Utah’s education costs five figures a term.”

“Okay, okay. Google is your friend here.” Maria tugged her phone out of her pocket. “Right, according to Wikipedia, hamsters can survive on a diet of commercial food.” She peered into the box again. “Looks as if you’ve got that. And most hamsters like to live on their own. Poor little things. Do you reckon they get lonely?”

Probably, if my own experiences were anything to go by. I didn’t know whether to be touched or insulted by Mrs. de Witt’s efforts to set me up with a hamster instead of a boyfriend. A snort of laughter escaped, and Maria looked at me funny. Perhaps I could add my new-found interest in animals to my online dating profile? Let’s face it, simply being a woman in her mid-twenties with a stable job and love of Netflix hadn’t generated many clicks.

“I suppose I’ll have to take it home.”

“What are you gonna call it?”

“You really think that’s the most important thing on my mind right now?”

“Hamlet? Ham Solo? Hambo?”

“What if it’s a girl? How do you tell?”

“No idea.” Maria leaned closer and squinted. “Is that a…? Never mind. I think it’s a tail. How about Hamantha? Hamela Anderson?”

“Be serious,” I said, but I was laughing.

“Do you need a hand out to your car with this lot?”

“I won’t say no if you’re offering. But honestly, what am I going to do with an electric guitar? I could barely play the recorder at school.”

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