When I was 11, I got a hamster
He was an awesome hamster, tame almost as soon as I got him, never minded being handled.

He got old too, nearly three years, in fact. Eventually, however, his health started to decline. He lost weight and could barely walk. I knew it would be fairest for him to take him to the vet and to get him put down.

Ringing the local vet, they quoted £100 to do it. Being 13 at the time, I didn't have that, so I asked my parents for it and I'd pay them back by doing extra chores and not receiving pocket money. They refused.

He continued to deteriorate over the next week or so, but he clung on, even though he ate almost nothing and barely drunk any water.

I couldn't bare to see him in this state any more, so I picked him up, stroked him for a bit, and then with one swift twist, snapped his neck. Needless to say, it was a harrowing experience.

Still better than a hamster my mother had a few years later, who had cancer. She didn't even contemplate seeing the vet. She just crushed paracetamol into the poor thing's water bottle and left it out in the shed so that she wouldn't have to deal with it dying.
( B.T., Wed 28 Dec 2011, 17:24, Reply)