Big Paw the hamster, R.I.P.

I had a particularly strange Memorial Day this week. As the rest of America reflected on and celebrated our historic veterans, Jennifer and I woke to find one of the hamsters (Big Paw) had suddenly died. She had no injuries, was not obviously ill, and was not old. The coroner has tentatively ruled it a suicide; the other hamster (Sunflower) is under observation and is squeaking with a counselor.

Her sudden death is mysterious, but I think I figured it out. I think it's the Hamster Rapture. Hamster Jesus is recalling all the good hamsters to Hamster Heaven, where they run on noiseless wheels all day, and fill their pouches with an infinite supply of popcorn. The Hamster Rapture was foretold by Hamster Harold Camping, who decoded the Hamster Bible to get the exact time and day of the Hamster Rapture. Hamster Jesus (a long-hair breed, who's (bizarrely) white, and has a beard) will descend and say, "[these] vegetables are MINE! So squeaketh the Lord!". (You have to say "squeaketh" and not "squeak", because even though Hamster Jesus actually spoke in Aramaic, it's considered blasphemy to quote Him in anything but the version of English they spoke in 1611.)

Anyway, Big Paw got raptured, since she's a good hamster, but Sunflower didn't because she's a wretched little shit that bites me relentlessly.