The Hamster

In the children’s room at the public library a porky hamster spends his days in a cage that barely accommodates him. In so small a space he endures a spartan existence behind glass walls with no privacy with the barest of necessities: a plastic water cup, another for food, a treadwheel for exercise, and a rug of wood shavings to burrow under to sleep or to hide from the prying eyes of children pressing their curious faces against the glass. His tolerance for so much self-denial is enviable. What seems really cruel, though, is that he’s surrounded by shelves of books the little runt can’t even read! Now that would have an avid reader like me climbing walls.