The stock price of Absolut immediately dropped 20%!
He survived being stuck in a desert in the remotest regions of the earth. He labored through the Cold War and the fall of the Kremlin. Somehow in his post-KGB life, he infiltrated the North Pole (after bribing a couple of elves) and took a ride on Santa’s sleigh. December of 2014, he landed at the Skipah hacienda all wrapped up as a furry little rodent and the best gift Mr. Klaus had ever brought my daughter for Christmas. Little did I know he would become “internet” famous and my future roomie for the many nights I didn’t have my daughter.
At approximately 6:45 p.m. on May 26th, Hammy was found in his three bunk Hilton unresponsive. I’m not up on hamster CPR, so there weren’t any attempts to resuscitate him. I’m not sure if the vodka killed him, or he finally crossed the Russian mafia one too many times, but Hammy is no more. Vladimir Putin is demanding immediate extradition for a proper state funeral for Hammy, but Sloane is having none of it. She took the news hard at first but immediately began working on his tombstone.
Sad times in the Skipahsphere.
Personally, while shedding no tears, a little piece of me died also with his passing. Hammy became a star on this site for the better part of a year. His penchant for gambling, double-fisting White Russians, and all the other antics he became famous for became must-read fodder for many of you. Hammy at first was a thorn in my side, but later became an American sports fan and his passion for staying on top of his HotHamsters.com profile slowed my internet speeds to pre-DSL levels many a night. Some nights when I stared at a blank screen, I would see Hammy training for his next mission on his wheel, and his determination would inspire me to write another crappy post.
They threw away the mold with Hammy at the hamster stork facility. The little vodka-chugging rodent always managed to find mischief and come out smelling like a rose. He survived numerous torture sessions with Sloane, but never fessed up any trade secrets. In honor of Hammy, let’s take a stroll down memory lane one last time!
Disclaimer: Some of these posts were written when I was still in a heated custody war, and hadn’t yet found Miss Madison.
Remember when Hammy was accused of stealing my remote control?
Then there was the time he got blasted and fell in love with NCAA basketball and became the biggest Notre Dame University basketball fan this side of South Bend.
Hammy by the end of the evening would be pretty much three sheets to the wind, watching the Cincinnati Reds, for that matter so would every other Reds fan the last two years!
Who could ever forget the Syrian-Russian war that almost erupted when Rosy came into the picture for a few months.
Rosy had no idea what she was getting into!
Hammy loved a vacation as much as the next hamster and took great pleasure when Sloane was waterboarding bringing Rosy up to speed on how she rolls.
Hammy loved The Americans television program and was known to binge watch it whenever he got the time.
He even became a part-time paralegal for me on a couple of occasions!
I could go on for days about the legend of Hammy, and one of these days, I’ll probably give him his own SEO corner on the internet. Hammy got me one last time though before his passing. While cleaning out his cell, I found a manifest authored by Mr. Hammy. Unbeknownst to me, Hammy was a legendary “stick” man in Siberia one winter while training for an upcoming assignment. With all of Hammy’s sexual prowess, he estimated there must have been 2100 bastard hamsters running around in Siberia that never knew their father.
Hammy wasn’t proud that he sired as many children as a modern day NFL athlete, but he took a shine to a particular daughter he informed me named “Muffin.” Muffin’s mom evidently ran an underground casino, and Hammy somehow schmoozed his way into her good graces (Hammy could win the heart of any four-ounce rodent vixen with a wink and a smile) and funneled any illegally-obtained largesse to putting her through the best schools in Russia and hamster KGB training.
I only mention this part of the story, because today at the pet store when Sloane was picking out a new hamster to put a smile on her face, a certain Winter White Dwarf hamster donned her best “puppy dog eyes”, and convinced the staff at PetSmart to make sure her species was part of a Memorial Day Weekend blowout sale of 50% off. Sloane took approximately 23 seconds to say “I want that one!” Her original name was going to be Poison Ivy (don’t ask me, I can’t think like an eight-year-old), but on second thought, she named it Blueberry Muffin! I’ve got a little bit of Leroy Jethro Gibbs in me, and I don’t believe in coincidences!
She even kind of looks like him! Dammit Hammy, back to updating all my computer passwords!
About it for now, time will tell if I’ve got a new KGB rodent spy on my hands. Sloane has already begun her own set of “training” methods with her, and we will have to wait and see. Pour your favorite vodka spirit and drink one in Hammy’s honor this evening. Readers, what are your best memories of Hammy?
Thanks for the memories little buddy, R.I.P.