Trouble According to Humphrey (16 page)

“It’s nice and firm, which is a good sign.”

What a surprise! Usually when my classmates clean my cage, they go, “Ewwww” or “Yuck” when they get to the poo part. But it didn’t bother the doctor at all. She even had a nice name for it: stool.

The vet held me up to her eye level and said, “Humphrey, we need to get you back to your old environment, but in the meantime, you are one healthy, handsome hamster.”

I remember when Ms. Mac picked me out at Pet-O-Rama and told Carl, the store clerk, “He’s obviously the most intelligent and handsome hamster you have.” I sure
missed Ms. Mac, but she sent me postcards, so I knew she still cared. Dr. Drew cared, too. She may not have been able to figure out that I felt guilty about Miranda, but she had figured out that I wasn’t sick.

“Try varying his food even more. And just to make sure he perks up, I’m giving you some yummy vitamin chews. I guarantee Humphrey will like them.”

I liked them already. In fact, I felt so happy, I was a little hungry.

She gently put me back in my cage. “Humphrey, I have a friend here today you might like to meet.” She went to the door and called out, “Judy? Could you bring Winky in here?”

Then she turned to Mr. Payne. “Tell me, what did the doctor say about your children’s illnesses?”

Mr. Payne looked down at the tips of his toes and squirmed like Sit-Still-Seth.

“Didn’t take them. Kind of expensive. See, we haven’t got insurance, and …”

“I see,” said the vet. “But they’re better now.”

“Yes. They had runny noses and coughs and a temperature for a few days. Just about drove me nuts. I take care of them now that I …” He stopped. Mr. Payne sure had a hard time finishing sentences.

“Well, I don’t think it was from Humphrey,” said the vet.

“The wife’s convinced it is.”

There was silence until Mrs. Brisbane said, “Dr. Drew, could you write a report or a letter and send it to Mrs. Payne? That would probably put her mind at ease.
In fact, I could pass it on to the principal and other parents.”

Dr. Drew smiled. “Sure! I’d be glad to.”

Just then, the door opened and a blond woman who wore a pink smock with pictures of teddy bears all over it came in, carrying a small cage. “Here’s Winky,” she said.

Dr. Drew introduced everyone to Judy and said, “Judy rescues hamsters. Sometimes she has more than twenty of them in her house.”

“Rescues them from where?” asked Mr. Brisbane. It was the exact question I wanted to ask. I was picturing hamsters on top of burning buildings … floating down rafts in a flood … trapped by the weight of an avalanche!

“Sometimes people decide that taking care of a hamster is too much work. That’s something to think about when you get a pet,” said Judy. “Mostly I get them from Pet-O-Rama. They’re rejects, like Winky here.”

“Reject hamsters?” asked Mr. Brisbane.

“Yes, if they’re not perfect, people won’t buy them.” She put Winky’s cage on the table next to mine. I could easily see how he got his name because he was winking at me. I winked back.

“For some reason, Winky was born with one eye and he doesn’t have any teeth. Neither of those things bother him. He’s able to eat a variety of foods and he only needs one good eye.”

“He does look like he’s winking,” said Mrs. Brisbane. “He’s very cute.”

He was not as handsome as I am, but I have to admit, he looked like a nice fellow.

“Hi, Winky. You look fine to me,” I squeaked.

And was I surprised when he squeaked back. “Thanks, fellow. I was kind of worried when Pet-O-Rama rejected me. Luckily, Judy came around and rescued me.”

He understood me and I understood him. This was a first!

“Pet-O-Rama! That’s where I came from!” I told him. “Remember Carl? He just got made assistant manager,” Winky squeaked at me.

“Imagine that!”

“They had a big party to celebrate,” he added.

“You don’t say. Hey, did they ever sell that chinchilla?” I asked.

“Yep. A real nice family took him,” he told me. “Oh, and just before I left, they got in a big shipment of new hamster cages. One of them is four levels high.”

“No kidding!”

Suddenly all the humans, even Mr. Payne, were laughing.

“Sounds like these two have a lot in common,” said Mrs. Brisbane.

“Let’s get them a little closer.” Dr. Drew took me out of the cage again. Judy took Winky out of his cage.

“Now, you shouldn’t put hamsters together in the same cage unless they’ve been raised together. But they can sniff each other.”

Judy held Winky up close to me and we stared at each other, eye to eye. I took a big sniff. Yep, he was a hamster all right.

“Where do you live now?” he asked.

“In a school room with lots of kids,” I said.

“Sounds like fun,” Winky replied.

“It is. But it’s work, too.”

Winky definitely winked at me. “Nice work if you can get it, pal.”

With that, we were whisked back into our cages.

“If you know anyone who wants a special, winking, happy hamster, give me a call,” said Judy.

I only had time to squeak, “Good luck,” before Winky was gone.

“Any other questions?” asked the vet.

No one had any, so my cage was closed up and we were ready to go. Before we got to the door, Dr. Drew said, “Oh, by the way, if you know anyone searching for a job, we have an opening for a veterinary assistant.”

Mr. Payne stopped in his tracks. “What’s that?”

“Someone to feed the animals, give them water, take them for walks, clean their cages, give them medicine. The person has to be able to lift heavy bags of food, interact with animals, that sort of thing. We’ll train.”

Mr. Payne had a strange look in his eyes. “And the hours?”

“There’s some flexibility there. Do you have someone in mind?”

Mr. Payne hesitated. I decided to squeak up for him.

“He needs a job! Hire Mr. Payne! PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEASE!”

Dr. Drew turned toward me. “Humphrey, do
you
have someone in mind?”

“MR. PAYNE!” I never squeaked so loudly in my whole life.

“I know you’re trying to tell us something.”

Mr. Payne cleared his throat. “I might be interested. I mean, I don’t know if I’m right for the job.”

The vet turned to him and smiled. “How do you feel about taking care of animals?”

“Good,” Mr. Payne said. “I had a nice dog when I was a kid. Name was Lady. And I learned a lot from watching this exam. I’m strong. I’m a good worker.”

“Why don’t you fill out an application now and come in and talk to my partners and me tomorrow morning? You can bring the children if you need to.”

I saw something new in Mr. Payne’s eyes. They came to life for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he said.

Soon we were out in the waiting room. Mandy was holding a funny dog in her lap. He had short legs and a long body. Tammy, Pammy and Brian stood around her, staring at the odd animal.

“See, Dad? It’s a wiener dog!” she cried out.

The lady sitting next to Mandy, who obviously owned the dog, smiled. “A dachshund, actually. His name is Fritz.”

Fritz did look like a wiener. Or a sausage. Or a hot dog.

“Do you like dogs, Mandy?” asked Mrs. Brisbane.

“Yes. And cats, too. But what I’d really like is a hamster.”

Smart girl, that Mandy.

Dr. Drew took Fritz and his owner into the office.

“Kids, I’ve got to fill out some papers,” said Mr. Payne. “Please be quiet and let me concentrate.”

“Okay. We’ll watch the fish,” said Mandy. “How’s Humphrey?”

“Humphrey?” said Mrs. Brisbane. “Humphrey is just perfect.”

It was nice to hear that I was perfect, even though I knew I was not.

HUMPHREY EXAMINED BY
VETERINARIAN

Students anxiously await
classroom hamster’s medical report.

The Humphreyville Herald

I
was hoping to get back to school the next day, but Mrs. Brisbane said she wanted to present the doctor’s report to Principal Morales and Mrs. Payne and the room mothers so that everyone would agree that it was all right for me to go back in the classroom. That was disappointing, of course. For one thing, my friends were putting the finishing touches on Humphreyville. For another thing, Og got to go back to Room 26—since nobody accused him of making humans sick—and I was all alone at the Brisbanes’ house.

The Brisbanes were nice, but my job was to help my classmates and it was pretty hard to do that without being there. Did Miranda have a job she liked? Was Art paying attention in class? Did Paul look happier now? I had no way of knowing, sitting in my cage at the Brisbanes’ house.

Mr. Brisbane tried to entertain me during the day, but it seemed QUIET-QUIET-QUIET compared to Room 26. For one thing, he was out in his workshop a lot, making
things out of wood. Or he was at the Senior Center, where he taught other people to make things out of wood. Some evenings he went out and taught woodcraft at the Youth Center while Mrs. Brisbane quietly graded papers.

I had plenty of time to think. Mostly, I thought about Miranda.

And I thought about what a rat I was. I’ve noticed that humans sometimes called bad people “rats.” (I’d like to tell them that the pet rats they sold at Pet-O-Rama were perfectly decent and upstanding rodents.) I knew I was a “rat” because I’d let Miranda take the blame for something I’d done. And I hadn’t helped her because I wanted to keep my freedom, so I could come and go as I pleased.

No wonder I’d had trouble eating and sleeping. However, the vitamin chews were just as yummy as Dr. Drew had said.

When Mrs. Brisbane came home, she was full of news about Room 26. She told her husband and me that Mandy, Art and Heidi were all back in school but that Richie and Sayeh were now out sick. Obviously, there was “something” going around … and that “something” was not me (thank goodness)!

She also told us that instead of having their homes sitting around on tables, the students had actually put Humphreyville together like a real town. “I think I’d like to move there myself,” she told me. “And your statue looks great.”

“You must be proud, Humphrey,” said Mr. Brisbane. “Not many hamsters have statues built in their honor.”

He didn’t realize that it was the statue of a rat.

Mrs. Brisbane said that Principal Morales had given permission for me to come back in the classroom. All the parents had been contacted and everyone wanted me back. Of course, she said the kids always did want me back.

“Here’s the best news of all. Mandy’s mother called and said that she’d read Dr. Drew’s report and that she was sorry she blamed you for making her kids sick. She said that they probably just had bad colds. Then, she told me something else.”

Mrs. Brisbane paused.

“What?” Mr. Brisbane asked.

“WHAT?” I squeaked.

“She said that in the end, it was a good thing Humphrey went to the vet because her husband ended up getting the job at the veterinary clinic. I guess he’d been out of work for quite a while. She told me to thank him.” She turned to me. “Thank you, Humphrey.”

I was happy! I was ecstatic (which is a long word that means REALLY-REALLY-REALLY happy). Ordinarily, I would have jumped on my wheel and spun for joy. But for some reason, the more good news Mrs. Brisbane had, the worse I felt. All the nice feelings just made me feel more and more like a rat.