This was emailed to me a few days ago.
> > Hamster Birthing Story
> >
> > If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome
>including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have
>you laughing out LOUD!
> >
> > Overview: I had to take my son’s hamster to the vet. Here’s what happened:
>
> >
> > Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was something
>wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room. “He’s
>just lying there looking sick,” he told me. “I’m serious, Dad. Can you
>help?”
> >
> > I put my best hamster-healer statement on my face and followed him into
>his bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back, looking
>stressed. I immediately knew what to do. “Honey,” I called, “come look at
>the hamster!” “Oh my gosh,” my wife diagnosed after a minute. “She’s having
>babies.”
> >
> > What?" my son demanded. “But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!” I was
>equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn’t want
>them to reproduce, " I accused my wife.
> >
> > “Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?” she
>inquired. I actually think she said this sarcastically!) “No, but you were
>supposed to get two boys!” I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet
>voice, while gritting my teeth together). “Yeah, Bert and Ernie!” my son
>agreed. “Well, it’s just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,” she
>informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, you think?)
> >
> > By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I
>shrugged, deciding to make the best of it! . “Kids, this is going to be a
>wondrous experience, I announced. “We’re about to witness the miracle of
>birth.” “OH, Gross!”, they shrieked. “Well, isn’t THAT just Great! What are
>we going to do with a litter of tiny little hamster babies?” my wife wanted
>to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too… don’t you?)
> >
> > We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny
>foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. “We don’t appear
>to be making much progress,” I noted. “Its breech,” my wife whispered,
>horrified. “Do something, Dad!” my son urged. “Okay, okay.” Squeamishly, I
>reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gingerly
>tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
> >
> > “Should I call 911?” my eldest daughter wanted to know. “Maybe they could
>talk us through the trauma…” (You see a pattern here with the females in my
>house?) “Let’s get Ernie to the vet,” I said grimly. We drove to the vet
>with my son holding the cage in his lap. “Breathe, Ernie, breathe”, he
>urged. “I don’t think hamsters do Lamaze,” his mother noted to him. (Women
>can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing,
>but this boy is of her womb, for God’s sake.)
> >
> > The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
>animal through a magnifying glass. “What do you think, Doc, a c-section?” I
>suggested scientifically. “Oh, very interesting,” he murmured. “Mr. and Mrs.
>Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?” I gulped, nodding for
>my son to step outside. “Is Ernie going to be okay?” my wife asked. “Oh,
>perfectly,” the vet assured us. “This hamster is not in labor. In fact, that
>isn’t EVER going to happen… Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young
>male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species,
>they um…um…masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.” He
>blushed, glancing at my wife. “Well, you know what I’m saying, Mr.Cameron.”
> >
> > We were silent, absorbing this. “So Ernie’s just…just…Excited,” my
>wife offered. “Exactly,” the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
> >
> > More silence.
> >
> > Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even
>laugh loudly. “What’s so funny?” I demanded, knowing, but not believing that
>the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless
>manliness. Tears were now running down her face. “It’s just…that…I’m
>picturing you pulling on its… its…teeny little…” she gasped for more
>air to bellow in laughter once more. That’s enough,” I warned.
> >
> > We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters and our son
>back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay. “I know
>Ernie’s really thankful ! for what you’ve done, Dad,” he told me. “Oh, you
>have NO idea,” my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
> >
> > 2 - Hamsters - $10…
> > 1 - Cage - $20… Trip to the Vet - $30… Memory of your hubby pulling
>on a hamster’s wacker…Priceless!
> >
> >
Wow, masturbating a hamster. Interesting.
That is just sick. But then again, I have got some of them from my friends. Nothing quite as disturbing, but still wierd.