Monday, November 17, 2008

Deliverance Hamsters and The Geckos


Back when I was twelve years old, my middle school class had hamsters.

We began the year with two, but by June, we had a small tribe.

It was a good lesson for health class. 

It was also a good lesson for genetics, since the two original hamsters were closely related and thus produced mutant spawn.

Please know that when I use the term “mutant” I’m not talking about the cool “Spiderman” or “Fantastic Four” kind of mutants. 

I’m talking about the kind showcased in the movie “Deliverance”. 

These were backwoods, rural Appalachian, scary hamsters. 

It wasn’t pretty. 

Some of them were blind, some had stumps instead of legs, and all of them would pee on you when you tried to pick them up. 

So…come the end of school, the teacher asked who would like to take them home for the summer. 

No one wanted them. 

I, having not yet seen “Deliverance”, thought they were mildly cute and enjoyed the sound of their dueling banjos. 

I took them home. 

They lived about a month. 

I wish I could say that they died of complications due to their “inbredness”.

Unfortunately, they died from my neglect. 

One morning, I cleaned their cage out (it was one of those cool ones with two levels and a tube connecting them) and thought it would be nice for them to have some fresh air.  So I placed their nice clean cage in the shade on the deck, so that my little, incontinent friends could enjoy the morning breeze. 

But then things went South. 

My mom and I got in a fight over something (I can’t remember what) and then discovered that we were late for an appointment.  We ran out the door and rushed off. 

Now, here’s the funny thing about planetary movement. 

The spot where the shade is in the morning is not where the shade is in the afternoon…..what with the rotation of the Earth and all. 

And so, we returned to find our furry wards baked inside their cedar chipped habitat by the noonday sun. 

It was truly as terrible as it sounds. 

We gave them a proper burial by the shed in the backyard. 

Fast forward to this weekend. 

Laura works in a middle school where the science teacher has several animals for the students to enjoy.  This includes two gecko lizards named Izzy and Lizzy. 

Since our kids love animals but don’t have any pets of their own, we volunteered to keep them for the weekend. 

They came with instructions. 

1) Pick them up from behind their front legs. 

2) Don’t grab them from behind their front legs.  You’ll crush their lungs.

3) If they get scared, their tails will fall off. 

4) Handling them, looking at them, or taunting them, will scare them.

5) If they get too cold, their tails will fall off. 

6) Reading this list will make their tails fall off. 

With my history of killing class pets, I was a nervous wreck. 

Brehm, however, LOVED them.  His favorite thing to do was to hold them firmly, but gently, in his hand and pet their backs.  Apparently the geckos liked this because their tales never fell off. 

They would just rest in his hand while Brehm watched TV. 

Eventually I relaxed enough to let them climb up my shoulder and onto my head. 

They looked just like the Geico gecko but they never offered us insurance. 

I guess they considered us a risk. 

Lately I’ve been fearful that God is more like me than like Brehm. 

That He will start to do something to bless me but then get distracted and leave me to bake.

I’m not sure why this is. 

Everything in the Bible and everything I’ve experienced these past few years indicates that I can trust God.  That he will not neglect me the way I neglected those inbred hamsters. 

And so this weekend I’ve been praying that I would be more “geckoish”.

A fragile creature resting in strong but gentle hands. 

I’ve also been thankful. 

Mainly I’ve been thankful that, no matter how scared I get, I don’t have a tail that can fall off.

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