The Hamster
My friend had a hamster which developed some sort of massive cyst thing on it's back. He had bought the hamster on the cheap at the local pet shop so when confronted with a massive vet's bill to remove this cyst he baulked at the cost. He decided to take it home and to put it out of his misery himself. This being a Friday we were all due at his house for some evening drinking and upon arriving were all relayed his tale of woe.

After ingesting some alcohol some intelligent debate ensued and it was unanimously decided by a belligerent Dave (name changed from Mike) that we could pop the cyst ourselves with a small blade which would be infinitely more humane than killing it outright. After all, besides the massive cyst he seemed outwardly happy. In doing so we'd save on the massive vets bill and indeed save the rodents life. It seemed like a reasonable argument albeit one that made me wince.

Obviously the hamster would need some sort of sedative so we located a sleeping pill and cut it into a bite sized chunk. This ended up being a quarter of a nytol. So hammy was force fed the pill and we sipped on our beers and waited...and waited...waited. Half an hour later there was clearly nothing happening. In fact if anything the animal looked more perky than ever. He was out and about and had even managed a long'ish stint on the wheel.

Right, nothing for it. We'll increase the dosage. So we popped in another quarter and waited...and waited...and waited. And still nothing. The petulant fucker wouldn't pass out. Over one hour had elapsed since the ingestion of the first quarter and he was still going strong.

So we commenced dosage number 3. The Final 2 quarters. And to aid the ingestion a small squirt of vodka was administered. We did some rough calculations and worked out that the vodka would have been more or less the same as a human consuming about a quarter of a bottle.

So after a whole nytol and a quarter bottle of vodka you'd expect some sort of drowsiness in the hardy animal, but alas no. Simon, as this was his Christian name, was more frisky than ever. He was darting between his house, the wheel and the various obstacle courses in his manor while resolutely sticking two fingers up at the sedatives coursing through his little veins.

Since this was essentially a life or death situation we were dealing with we decided to go ahead with the procedure regardless. When I say 'we' I actually mean Dave. And when I say 'go ahead' I actually mean he just picked up the small blade and walked towards Simon and said, "Come here you little fucker!!".

I'll spare you the gruesome details of what happened next, but suffice to say the whole operation was an unqualified success and he made a full recovery. Simon lived for a further 12 months after that and died a natural death. The kind of natural death where you come home to say hello to your little friend only to discover he's cold, not moving and his mouth is slightly ajar. I'm sure he would have wanted it this way rather than suffering the indignity of dying with a large cyst on his back.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Mon 24 Jan 2011, 10:40, 5 replies)

Beautifully told
Almost brought a tear to my eye.
(Smale is stuffed, Mon 24 Jan 2011, 10:42, closed)

Not that I agree with what happened but....
Lol
( girlinthehole, Mon 24 Jan 2011, 11:23, closed)

I didn't think it really happened either

(mersault, Mon 24 Jan 2011, 12:51, closed)

this
But with less uncertainty
(MunchMyBalloons, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 5:49, closed)

You should have given Simon some ambien and oxycontin.
It took out the huge cyst that was Heath Ledger.


(Actually he was a great actor and is missed my many)
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Mon 24 Jan 2011, 15:18, closed)