Today, I shared my concerns with Main Mistress and she donned plastic gloves and stuck her hand inside the nasty shavings that constitute the floor of the cage that Emma and Ari the Hamsters called home.
Curiously, I nestled at her feet as she moved her hand hither and yon through the gnarly, half-chewed recycled newspaper.
At first impassive, her face became puzzled, then mystified and then, downright horrified.
She drew back from the cage. She peered through the glass walls. She shook the cage, allowing the shavings to fall to either side.
"There's no sign of Ari," she reported to me...or to the room at large, I couldn't tell.
"How is that possible?" She looked suspiciously at Emma the Hamster, noting that she had become fat, impressively fat. For her part, Emma stared back at her with a smirk.
The problem with humans is that they miss the reality that is staring them in the face.
"I don't know," Main Mistress sighed, removing the gloves and leaving them for Leidy the cleaning lady. "Maybe Ari escaped."
In her cage, Emma the Hamster, sat on her haunches and laughed her butt off.
Too bad she didn't realize I was watching. Watching not only her wicked laughter but the whole miserable year of spousal abuse that unfolded within their glass house. Watching Ari's fur disappearing patch by patch. Watching Emma's burgeoning frame. Listening to his heart-wrenching squeaks in the middle of the night... and finally, listening to his silence.
Well, dogs have been known to solve mysteries, in fact, I would say we're been pretty darn invaluable to detectives and private investigators. Criminals leave clues at the crime scene that are often overlooked by human eyes, human ears, human noses and human hands.
Even criminals who happen to be itty, bitty, furry little creatures.
I am on the case.
The mystery of Ari the Hamster's disappearance is about to be solved.
Yips and yaps,
Alfie the Pomeranian
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