Out of the frying pan and into the fire

I had just finished editing and posting that last entry when I hear rustling in the back room. I hissed at the cat that I thought was rummaging around behind the TV. Ten seconds later, that same cat comes out making a very strange sound. The only time I've heard it before was when he had caught a mouse. So I start flipping on lights and chasing him down.

I catch up just in time to see him drop my children's pet hamster on the living room floor.

Now understand, this would be exceedingly bad, considering that just this past weekend we held a funeral for the other hamster. Yes, a funeral. Graveside, with some words of condolence for the dearly departed, followed by sniffles and tears. I actually said Kaddish for a hamster.

Having dealt with it once already, I was in no mood to do a repeat performance. I grabbed the cat and held him still, wondering how the hell I was going to get the hamster back, since it had run under the chair (the chair which was next to the couch on which both of my children decided to sleep tonight).

I only had a few seconds to think about it, because that was when the hamster waddled out from under the chair and into my hand.

I must be really tired, because it took two of us to figure out what happened next. See, I had the hamster cage in the downstairs bathroom, with the door closed, because the wheel is squeaky and it was driving us nuts. So when I go back to put her in the cage, I see the bathroom door is still closed! Inside, the cage (which had been perched on the sink) was on its side on the floor. I figured, the hamster running in the wheel gradually edged the cage closer to the side of the sink until it fell over and made its escape. It was very thoughtful of the hamster (or, possibly, the cat) to close the door after herself, but how the hell did she do it?

It took both of us to realize that we're talking about a hamster. A rodent. A thing that can squeeze into tight places.

Like under a door.