This is not how I hoped to re-launch the blog today. I had a niggling feeling as I fell asleep last night, that I had forgotten to do something. I had double-checked the front door was locked before crawling under the duvet, but what I realised this morning was that I had double-checked the wrong door. I had left my hamster's cage wide open, and found it empty, without even a trail of woodchip bedding for a clue of his whereabouts. John McPhee is my one-eyed hamsterman. I picked him up in the autumn, and named him appropriately after the American journalist and author of a book called Oranges - the colour of J-Mac's fur. I had been reading the book Blindness by Jose Saramago at the time, and figure I was ultrasensative to the hamster's case, supposing the missing eyeball might make him a weaker candidate for a home.
He could be anywhere by now - on his own little adventure - a la Feivel. I suspect that he is lying low - his climbing skills are poor on account of his skewed depth perception. I searched the nooks and crannies of our flat, in the hopes I might spot a furry orange ball tucked someplace rather obvious, but to no avail. I feel vaguely like I want to vomit. I have left small portions of food in the hallway, hoping to lure him. I am hanging my head in absentminded and irresponsible shame.
I can only hope that Johnny Mac will return in the next 2 months, and that you will see more than his empty cage featured in the tail-end of three-year-long 366-day blog.
