First thing's first, my hamster had to have an operation. Poor thing. His name is Squizz, short for Squyrrell, which is pronounced 'Squirrel'. He's a russian dwarf hamster and is nearing two years old - the end of their average lifespan, but, touch wood, he hasn't really shown any signs of aging yet, thank God. You might be thinking "Why the operation if he hasn't got anything wrong", yet, alas, he did have something wrong with him. He had everted cheek pouch - yes, everted not inverted - where the cheek pouch is pulled out and turned inside out. You can tell by a fleshy pink lump, the cheek, hanging out the side of the mouth. It's pretty uncommon, more common in dwarf hamsters than syrian, but we managed to pinpoint what was wrong with him without the use of the vet and got it right first time. So, we called the vet, but since it was a Sunday and not an emergency we decided to wait until the next day, MONDAY. I don't know why I did that - Monday just seemed like something significant and worthy of caps-lock-ing. Of course, Monday was a school day, so I spent the morning taking my beloved to the vet's. We waited a little while for the vet to arrive, while people brought in their normal pets, like dogs and cats, while I sat there with a cage containing a tiny ball of fluff. Then the vet arrived, and we took him into "CONSULTING ROOM 2". Dun dun DUUUN. Eh, it wasn't that bad - Consulting Room 2 is where I was told my rabbit had to be put down. It was a familiar place. Although Consulting Room 1 is where I cradled him until he departed. Eh, that's the past - OUT OF FLASHBACK. Yeah, Consulting Room 2, and I plonked his cage on the table, and we took the top off and dug around in his little yellow igloo and found him. He looked a little tired and perturbed, and while I admired his cuteness the vet picked him up by the scruff of the neck and held him upside down to have a look. The vet said she was "pleased with that lump" and said he'd have to have the cheek cut out because it had dried up and died or something. But the vet who actually did the operation thought it was okay, since it had only happened the day before at most, and he just had it stitched back in. But when we went to pick him up we found out that he'd pulled it out again, and had to go under again. I could've had a breakdown then, but I kept it together and sat worriedly in the waiting room, erm, waiting. But he was fine, and came home with us as soon as it was done. He's kept it in so far, but he has had a go at it now and then. We have to take him in for a checkup on Monday to make sure he's okay and stuff, which he seems to be.
Next thing, I WAS SICK EVERYWHERE. BLEEERGH. Ha, the day after the whole hamster-vet-takey-in-thing I was sat in my English lesson. About halfway through my hand shot up. "Yes, Katie?" "Miss, I think I'm gonna be sick." "RUN CHILD!!" And run I did, out of the classroom, along the corridor, up the stairs and into the toilets. I wasn't sick then, but nearly was. So I was told to see the nurse, who annoyed me that day for reasons I shan't go into now, and I
was sick a little twice in the Art Block toilets, before going home. When I got home I was sick NEXT to the toilet. My dad was most pleased. AND THEN I STARTED MAKING MY FILM I PROMISED YOU ALL. Animation is actually quite fun, when you're not doing the boring bits. Harhar.Then what, then what... Then there was today. I'll skip Wednesday 'cos I just chilled on the sofa with Squizz in our make-shift hospital wing all day. So, TO THURSDAY! Wait, I just realised, it's Friday. TO FRIDAY THEN! Today was okay, actually. I have some things to tell you about though. I had to do a history test and squeezed my answer into this tiny little box, turned the page and found out there was a whole other A4 page to continue my answer onto. FAIL. Then in Maths I forgot my book, so I got a piece of squared paper and attempted to do my maths, but with missing a few days I didn't really understand it, and drew this baby instead. See him, there, on the right? Sorry, sir, but I didn't understand the fractions and subsequently drew a piranha-headed skeleton cyborg to deal with them. Maths to art ratio in that lesson- 1:50. I wanted to draw a piranha head, because I thought I could. Then I drew a whole piranha. Then I didn't like it, so I rubbed out everything except the head and turned it into this beautiful creature. I want one to destroy my enemies, like a loyal guard dog...
So, that's my week. How was yours?
Lots of love, me.
P.S. Now is the worst time to join my 'Enemy List'.
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