"I just thought I'd tell you that I buried Mousey in the front yard," Nick told me the other day. Mousey, Shyla's hamster, had recently passed on after nibbling on a final meal of pizza crust. He had been ailing for about a month and Nick was trying to figure out a humane way to euthanize him, perhaps, he thought crushing a few Tylenol into his grub. As it turned out, thankfully, the rodent took the final journey on his own and was found feet up on the bottom of his cage. The kids arranged a proper burial for him. Nick told the baby Skylar that Mousey had gone to heaven which, in my view, is a cheap out. My daughter Marissa also recently lost her own hamster, Moo, who had been living a horribly sedentary life choosing to shun his hamster wheel in favor of reruns of Wheel of Fortune . I'm not sure whether Marissa buried Moo or just put him down the garbage shute as I would have done. I don't care about Mousey or Moo one way or another. I hate hamsters....
More than a million served!