The Night of Oreo
Blink * Blink * Yawn! It is so good to wake up and just stretch, I think as my tiny legs scoot out behind me. I sit up and walk out of my bed. Right turn I''m in my bathroom. Ugg! Just gotta get the right spot, I think as I turn circles in the tiny bathroom space. Aah! All done! Now it's time for a snack, I think as I clean myself up.It's 11:00 at night for humans, but 11:00 a.m. for me. I guess I sorta overslept. I dig around in my food bowl a little bit, but I don't find what I'm looking for.
"Hey, Squeekles!" I yell to my next door neighbor. "Squeek, could you grab me a seed? I don't have any."
"Sure," he squeeks back. "I just got refilled."
"I know, so did I," I reply, "but you know me. I pouched it all."
"Yes, you do tend to do that, don't you," Squeekles said absentmindedly, digging in his bowl. "Aha!" he peeps as he tosses me a seed.
"Thanks," I mutter, munching on my favorite snack. "So you takin' a run, or what?" I say, licking my lips.
"Yeah, I'm runnin' tonight, but I'm going to make my bed first."
"Good idea," I reply. "I'm going to clean up, then take a run. Anyway, thanks bud."
"No problem."
He's such a good friend, I think as I walk over to my bed, to bathe. Now it is about 11:45. Lunchtime. My small tummy growls. Maybe I should have lunh before I bathe. As I fix my gourmet sandwich (which I snuck from the fridge last night) I hear the small squeak from my pal's wheel.
"Yum!" I squeak to myself as I look at my banana chip-corn-seed-lettuce-tomato-mayonnaise sandwich. I finish that up, licking my paws, then start to wash. Now it is about 12:00. I move my tiny paws up to my face and rub them all over my head. I'm starting to turn around to do my tail, when I see two malicious red eyes. It's my good friend, Rascal. The rat.
"Hey Rascal," I say as he slides out of the dark.
"Those humans plugged up my hole again," he says, nudging his grey ear.
"Again?" I ask, scratching an itch on my tummy. "Yeah, but I don't blame them. They're finally painting their house."
"Oh," I say. "Well Rascal, it's been nice talking to you, but I've got a busy schedule."
"Hey, buddy. Here, next week?" he asks.
"Sure, see you then," I reply, getting to my bath. Over the head, now the ears, I think as I wash up. I guess it's time for a run, I think, so clean that I squeak. I got that one from Squeekles. I jump out of bed, and walk over to my white, wired ramp that leads to my 2nd deck. I climb up, thinking about my tiny blistered feet. Ahh. On floor two. It's great to be up this high. From a hamster's point of view. I slide to the edge and ready myself to jump. I do. Wheew, just barely made it. I look over the edge and feel dizzy. I decide not to look down. I start to run. Now it's about 3:00 a.m. In two hours I will go back to bed.
Yawn! "Boy am I tired," I peep, jumping back to my deck. I can hear Squeekles still running. I love to fall asleep to the sound of his wheel. I climb into bed and pull up the newspaper. Hmm. Comics. "Now it's time for a good day's sleep," I think as my nocturnal eyes close.
It has been another wonderful night.
by Emily
Young Writers Camp, Oakland
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