RIP Poor Cupcake

    In the history of all hamsters, I don't know if one has ever lived longer than "Cupcake".  When we got him, the man at the pet store said he would only live for around two years...which was about a hundred years ago.  
​    Cupcake was our daughter's birthday gift when she was little - and we naively assumed he would be a cute and cuddly pet. 

    We couldn't have been more wrong.  He was the meanest, angriest, rabid little thing that would bite your finger off when given the chance.  He spent his nights spinning in his maniacal little wheel, planning and plotting his very next move.
​     Our daughter would put gloves on to try and pet him, but he'd still bite right through, being that he was from Satan himself.
​     We lost Cupcake once, like, literally lost him for over a week and I knew the furry little thing would bite our faces off while we slept.  
​      Our daughter lovingly put pieces of fruit and hamster food out each night, hoping he would find his way back, while my husband and I knew he would never survive. 
​      Sure enough...he did.
​      That was years ago and for whatever reason, she loved him still.  She adored and cared for him even when we secretly hoped after family vacations he would be "taking a nap" by the time we came home.   
​     He was too mean to die and I honestly began to think we'd one day send him off to college with her, chewing his way through her textbooks.
​    Then, it happened.  Yesterday morning, I went to check on his food and water, but he wasn't glaring at me.  He looked, peaceful. 
​    Thinking something was wrong, I cautiously opened his cage to see what he'd do, but he didn't move to attack.  No biting, no jumping...he just sat.  His eyes were open and he looked at me, but he barely moved. 
​     Calling my husband, we gathered the kids and told them to spend some time with him because something seemed to be off.  They each did, but we all kept the sense everything would be okay.
     When school was over though, there he was.  Motionless and still.
​      The level of disdain I'd held for this ball of anger melted into pain.  He was so small and delicate and I couldn't believe he was gone.
​     Our daughter wept.  She cried so hard she almost made herself sick as my mind raced with what to do.  She'd never lost a pet and kept wanting to hold him, wishing he were alive. 
​     We had a funeral, said our good byes and wondered how she would be from then on.  

     It's hard to believe he's gone.  No squeaks of the hamster wheel spinning constantly throughout the night, no crunches of food while he eats his snacks at 3:00 in the morning.
​     We know our daughter will get better in time, but it's a learning process that'll never be easy.  
​      I never thought I'd miss that little fuzzball, but I actually do. One thing's for sure though, I feel better knowing he had a very long, looooong hamster life.
​      Rest in Peace, Cupcake.  We Love You.