Friday, 5 January 2007
Chinese Mousiness
Mood: cheeky
Now Playing: with the Beijing Opera
Topic: Chinese Mouse
Okay, skip this posting if you're not into hamsters...
Chinese Hammy Photo Gallery Links.
So you can understand why I call my pet "Mousey" when he's a hammy...
And to see what he looks like—
Click the following links herebelow...
http://goto.glocalnet.net/natal/ham/chinese.htm — I'm putting this one at top because Benji looks just like my Mousey. Note the platypus-tail. That's his gonads under there.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_Hamster — the original and best Wikipedia description. The hammy illustrated, though is a "white spotted," whereas mine comes in normal natural colour. To see a rather unflattering snap of what he actually looks like (when stressed) click below. My hammy's on the left.
http://www.petwebsite.com/hamsters/chinese_hamsters.htm — my Mousey's pictured on the left.
http://uk.ask.com/web?q=pictures+of+chinese+hamsters&qsrc=1&o=322&l=dir&dm=all — a gallery of gleddymousey pixx, including one newborn...
http://www.aub.dk/~zannie/hamster/dwarf.htm — a whole gaggle of dwarf hammies, Chinese included...
http://www.hamsterhideout.com/breedschinese.html — another comparison; a gledwood one and a white...
http://www.hamsterific.com/ChineseHamster.cfm — "a Chinese hamster is sometimes called a Mouster"...
http://www.midlandhamsterclub.co.uk/hamster/chinese.html — the (UK) Midlands Hamster Club has some really good online info for glorified-rat-with-pouches-o-files...
http://members.shaw.ca/petitepaws/chdwf.html — a photo of a Mummy with really cute babies. The accompanying text is particularly perceptive for anyone thinking of buying a pet or wanting tips on handling. These animals are very easy to keep but you need to know e.g. they're extremely shortsighted, they orient themselves by sound, whisker-impressions and smell, etc etc just some things that seem very obvious when you know the animals but may take some getting acquainted with...
OK this is my last hammy link but one:—
*******
http://en.allexperts.com/q/Gerbils-Hamsters-2005/Wobbly-Chinese-Hamster.htm — this Q&As page for all rodent-lovers is pretty much here for my own reference...
Of the hamster types available as pets I've had loads of Syrians (mostly as a kid) though about ten years ago I had my famous golden hamster Pandable (named after the big black poppy eyes). He was much loved. My Aussie friends (who come from a country where hamsters are banned to prevent the influx of nonindigenous vermin) said he looked like a cartoon character! Pandable lived to the glorious (for a hamster) age of 3½. Four people came to his funeral (let's face it, that's more than many humans get) and sang All Things Bright and Beautiful. The hymn wasn't my idea (I love my pets but I'm not THAT soppy) but it was a beautiful song. A couple of years ago I had a Campbells and a Siberian winter white living together. Unfortunately the winter white died (of old age, I suspect; I bought them from a dodgy shop) and the Campbells, who was a tiny baby when I got him, was still grooming his dead housemate's fur, which was heartbreaking... Anyway my Campbells Condensed eventually ran to the wheel in the sky and now I have the Chinese Mouse who is the tamest pet rodent I've ever had bar none. If I pick him out of his nest (he has FIVE nests, lazy swine!) sleeping, cup my hand round him so just his head's poking out, he v often continues to doze, he likes to be stroked on his furry forehead... then eventually he wakes with a start, realizes he's not in bed and decides to go for a ramble. When he's determined to move there's no stopping this animal, but most of the time, I have to say (just as Wikipedia put it ) he does display an endearing gentleness of character. Remember I mentioned a disappointing attempted photo session because I just could not capture his true likeness... well the picture of Benji (click http://goto.glocalnet.net/natal/ham/chinese.htm) does sum up some of the Chinese hammy warmth of personality.
The only hammies I've never owned are Roborovski dwarves. Have a click on this: http://goto.glocalnet.net/natal/ham/raborov.htm they are tiny! And you can keep hoardes of 'em together! Which is so entertaining. Especially when you have one running the wheel one way and then another gets on, determined to go for a spin in the opposite direction...!
Posted by gledwood at 7:48 PM GMT
Updated: Saturday, 6 January 2007 12:55 AM GMT
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Saturday, 6 January 2007 - 2:15 AM GMT
Name: "chipper"
Home Page: http://playingwithfire.blogdrive.com
Your hamster myust be cute! The pictures are adorable. Wow, I should have a pet. I miss my cat. I lost him in the divorce (like just about everything else ...).
Reply to this Comment
Saturday, 6 January 2007 - 5:13 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood"
Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
E-Mail: hammynutter@lycos.com
Well you should get a kitten then. I'd have a cat if I had room. I went for a mouster mainly because he is so little (he was smaller than a clipper lighter when I bought him) and can live in a 10"x10"x18" glass box (fishtank) no problem. Obviously if you're going to have both animals you need enough room to shut hammy away so I can't really do this, also I'm in a room without direct access to the street or back garden. (I know some Americans keep house cats, but that's v unusual here. People like to let their cats out.) I used to have a cat in my teens. She was born in our house because our friends' cat was pregnant and staying (I can't recall why Kitty would have been at our house but she was) she gave birth to a clutch of kittens. We took the smallest one, brown all over called Coco. Because we had her since birth I knew her since she was absolutely tiny. She used to sit up in the palm of my hand (hamster size) and climb up my jeans with her claws to get to me. She was very tame. I taught her to lie down like a baby and go to sleep (I'd never had a cat before so I didn't see how odd this was). When she got older she went jet black. (Black cats are supposed to be lucky here, but they're unlucky in some other places (like Portugual, I think).) Yeah, I would have another cat if I could. I like dogs too but dogs are one hell of a responsibility. I used to know a Rottweiler called Chiquita (what a name for a 14 stone dog!) Even the police said she was well behaved ... (our police used to use dogs a LOT, but you don't see so much of them these days). Oh man I've got lost in my own typing... I said all I wanted to, surely...
Reply to this Comment
Saturday, 6 January 2007 - 5:16 PM GMT
Name: "Gledwood"
Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog
E-Mail: hammynutter@lycos.com
Oh yeah, I was going to say if I had a dog I'd want a Rottweiler if it was anything like that one... they're very expensive though... £400-£800 I think.
Showing posts with label mouster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mouster. Show all posts
Saturday, 20 January 2007
The Day After the Crazy Night Before
The Day After the Crazy Night Before...
Mood: spacey
Now Playing: Still Exhaustedly, I'm afraid...
Topic: Daily Doings
Wow! Check out the reply I got from The Sun's agony aunt "Dear Deidre" below. I emailed in asking for any good or unusual links she might have for my website, so the reply you see is what she wrote (unedited) below. I've always wanted to include some very basic info on the drugs from an unbiased source so the cyber-leaflet she sent me (it came attached as a Word document) seems as good as any. I want to emphasize I've pasted it up here exactly as it came for public information.
I still didn't sleep too brilliantly last night. There was madness in our house in the form of the prostitute's boyfriend going so deranged on crack he was howling at one point like a wild animal. All the money had obviously gone and she was imploring him to be "allowed" to keep her mobile phone... else that, too, would have gone up in smoke.
There's not much more I can say about crack. I've been into the madness also. It's not pretty. It's not special. It's just a morass, a mess, a living hell.
On a lighter note, I've wanted to post a picture of my Chinese hammy and haven't been able to do it; but I've found one. If you click on: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_Hamster you'll see my Little Mousey in white. The beady eyes show beautifully in that photo...
I'll leave it here. Take care folks. — Gleds.
Posted by gledwood at 4:02 PM GMT
Updated: Friday, 5 January 2007 10:54 PM GMT
Mood: spacey
Now Playing: Still Exhaustedly, I'm afraid...
Topic: Daily Doings
Wow! Check out the reply I got from The Sun's agony aunt "Dear Deidre" below. I emailed in asking for any good or unusual links she might have for my website, so the reply you see is what she wrote (unedited) below. I've always wanted to include some very basic info on the drugs from an unbiased source so the cyber-leaflet she sent me (it came attached as a Word document) seems as good as any. I want to emphasize I've pasted it up here exactly as it came for public information.
I still didn't sleep too brilliantly last night. There was madness in our house in the form of the prostitute's boyfriend going so deranged on crack he was howling at one point like a wild animal. All the money had obviously gone and she was imploring him to be "allowed" to keep her mobile phone... else that, too, would have gone up in smoke.
There's not much more I can say about crack. I've been into the madness also. It's not pretty. It's not special. It's just a morass, a mess, a living hell.
On a lighter note, I've wanted to post a picture of my Chinese hammy and haven't been able to do it; but I've found one. If you click on: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_Hamster you'll see my Little Mousey in white. The beady eyes show beautifully in that photo...
I'll leave it here. Take care folks. — Gleds.
Posted by gledwood at 4:02 PM GMT
Updated: Friday, 5 January 2007 10:54 PM GMT
Good Morning
Thursday, 4 January 2007
Good Morning
Mood: chillin'
Now Playing: Barely Consciously...
Topic: Chinese Mouse
Good morning everyone. I am sat here rather tired out and nicotine-deprived. Mousey's in his nest. The proper one with cotton wool and sawdust, not the one called my elbow. -ey by the way is not to be confused with Mousie, my French friend who you will see leaving messages in here. I think French Mousie has always known about the Chinese Mousey. I wish I could introduce them. But my scanning abilities are rather dire and my last attempted rodent photo session was a disaster. I got loads of close-ups of a hammy with a dead worried face. (Yes, even hamsters can look worried. I have the proof on Mother Hubbard's mobile phone.) Perhaps one day I will manage to get a nice picture of the Chinese Mouse and I'll email it to the magickal village of Plumpiemousie where the midnight colours are inverted and all is funky, yet never druggie. Such an amazing place...
Posted by gledwood at 9:59 AM GMT
Updated: Thursday, 4 January 2007 10:10 AM GMT
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Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 10:26 AM GMT
Name: "Holly Blue"
Morning Gledwood.....I've just been doing a bit on my blog too. I don't know if you've noticed I've added a link to stuff that inspires me...I know you're collecting inspiring stuff so wondered if you wanna take a look??....it might do the same for you. Let me know what you think.
Have a good day...Give mousie a cuddle from me! HBE:)
PS.....you can always e-mail me your comments if you'd rather my address is holly-blueeyes@hotmail.co.uk
Reply to this Comment
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 11:10 AM GMT
Name: "Gledwood"
I'm just about to view those inspirations.
I can't really "cuddle" the Mouse, bc he is so tiny. I held him cupped in my hand this morning actually. He sits there peering out. Not moving. And this morning he sat there I was rubbing his head between his beady black eyes and this actually made him fall asleep! (I don't know if I could sleep if a finger the size of a telephone kiosk tried poking ME between the eyes, but there you go.)
Hmmm. Well I'm off. Bye! Gleds
Good Morning
Mood: chillin'
Now Playing: Barely Consciously...
Topic: Chinese Mouse
Good morning everyone. I am sat here rather tired out and nicotine-deprived. Mousey's in his nest. The proper one with cotton wool and sawdust, not the one called my elbow. -ey by the way is not to be confused with Mousie, my French friend who you will see leaving messages in here. I think French Mousie has always known about the Chinese Mousey. I wish I could introduce them. But my scanning abilities are rather dire and my last attempted rodent photo session was a disaster. I got loads of close-ups of a hammy with a dead worried face. (Yes, even hamsters can look worried. I have the proof on Mother Hubbard's mobile phone.) Perhaps one day I will manage to get a nice picture of the Chinese Mouse and I'll email it to the magickal village of Plumpiemousie where the midnight colours are inverted and all is funky, yet never druggie. Such an amazing place...
Posted by gledwood at 9:59 AM GMT
Updated: Thursday, 4 January 2007 10:10 AM GMT
Post Comment | View Comments (2) | Permalink
Comments Page 1 of 1
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 10:26 AM GMT
Name: "Holly Blue"
Morning Gledwood.....I've just been doing a bit on my blog too. I don't know if you've noticed I've added a link to stuff that inspires me...I know you're collecting inspiring stuff so wondered if you wanna take a look??....it might do the same for you. Let me know what you think.
Have a good day...Give mousie a cuddle from me! HBE:)
PS.....you can always e-mail me your comments if you'd rather my address is holly-blueeyes@hotmail.co.uk
Reply to this Comment
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 11:10 AM GMT
Name: "Gledwood"
I'm just about to view those inspirations.
I can't really "cuddle" the Mouse, bc he is so tiny. I held him cupped in my hand this morning actually. He sits there peering out. Not moving. And this morning he sat there I was rubbing his head between his beady black eyes and this actually made him fall asleep! (I don't know if I could sleep if a finger the size of a telephone kiosk tried poking ME between the eyes, but there you go.)
Hmmm. Well I'm off. Bye! Gleds
Wednesday's Proper Posting
Thursday, 4 January 2007
Wednesday's Proper Posting
Mood: incredulous
Now Playing: incredulously... people!!-- gaah!!!
Topic: Daily Doings
MY PROPER POSTING for today. Yes I conked out again with my little Mousey up my sleeve. Mousing around, up and down my sleeve, whiskers all a-tickling me, push-push-pushing with his nose. Then, as I say, settling down to yet more extended hours of sleep. Funny, but when he’s intent on rambling somewhere more interesting, even if I put my forearms vertical he climbs up the material with ease, pops out and climbs on my hands, hangs over the brink of my cuffs, judging ever more cavalierly the distance for a leap down…
I’M GLAD I’M AT HOME. Am not too much of a fan of the Vast Outside most of the time.
People! Bloody people!
The girls in the bookshop were sweet, wishing me happy new year. They know me well from my times last year when I went through a great deal of the Wordsworth Editions £1.99 Classics range. Ordering titles, one at a time, through their computer. Leaving me with half a shelf full of half read Victorian fiction. Anna Karenina I'm still tackling gamely. I adore that book. It's just that I have the attentionspan of a gnat that makes the concentrating upon all 850++ pages rather difficult.
Then I’m leaving the booksshop when a Greek voice accosts me and two deranged eyes. A Local Psycho, who used to call himself my friend, demands £1. So he can go get a drink. I said no. Then, two glassy inner –spiralling eyes met mine and a rant — “I saw you with my friend (what friend?) in the off-licence (liquor store) this morning. What off licence? Don’t laugh at me. Next time I see you I’m gonna hit you. What’s wrong with now? Does he know my really puny left hook?
(MY RIGHT HOOK, on the other hand, even Charles the Schizophrenic Boxer admires my right hook. He tries not to look pained when, standing palms out, he allows me to smack them fearlessly.)
[I've just read this back the next day. And who was supposed to be fearless. Him or me?]
So Zorba doddles off. I brave the local supermarket. “Brave” is the operative word for their most recent “StoreD”, in an Alzheimerian feat of confabulation, remembers calling me into the back room of a prominent high street pharmacy accused of theft of what I later identified as a £25 copper antiarthritis bangle. What else annoyed me in this incident was that nobody had witnessed me even touching said bangle (that’s because I hadn’t). A new and rather thick member of staff had merely witnessed me stand beside the empty packet as I perused camera batteries (I needed a new battery for my oldfashioned auto-advance film camera.)
“Look, just put it on the table now and you’ll get a banning letter (banning me for life from the shop? For doing nothing? No thanks.) and we’ll leave it at that,” said Mr StoreD in a voice so reasonable I almost felt silly having to contradict him and tell him the truth. The harsh unpalatable truth that someone who looked like a junkie had actually, for once, not stolen the item in question. He didn’t like this. Once I’d emptied my every pocket, turned my bag inside-out, proved beyond doubt that no £25 arthritis bracelet was in my possession, I pointed to the luxuriant bank of CCTV monitors and challenged him to prove the “crime” on them.
My invitation was immediately declined.
What gets me the most about this episode is that the guilty StoreD remembers my face (though he assumed I’d forgotten his for I blanked him so effectively on so many occasions), remembers the accusation, yet affects to have forgotten my innocence. He even started getting quite lairy with me last time he caught me in this unnamed supermarket, ejecting me for “theft” of a single carrier bag. My friend Valium Marilyn’s had split so I was only doing a favour. He threw me out as if I’d been apprehended committing grand theft larceny. Well and truly in his element he threatened me with “the back room” should I dare set foot inside the hallowed sliding doors again. When I told him that the “last time” of which he kept reminding me, I’d actually done nothing wrong and he knew that, his eyes flashed with inner fury and he growled to , “Get out of my face.”...
Thankfully no security appeared to be “on” this evening so I braved the supermarket, got all me food. Feeling well pleased with myself I breezed outside ony to run slap bang into Crackhead of the Century imploring me for £50p. Come on, just 50p I know you’ve got it.” I pleaded poverty and hurried to the busstop. People!
Fair enough I used to beg up change. But I never begged “off my own” (why ask someone who has nothing?— that makes no sense. That is taking the pee-pee.) Also when I begged I sat down. In the end, I had so many “regulars” I didn’t even need to ask. The money came of people’s free will. If someone didn’t want to talk to me, so be it. I ignored them. And I got very little trouble because of this. C of the C, on the other hand, seems to have a bashed-in face nearly every other time I meet him. Which is far too frequently for my liking.
And here endeth today’s posting. People! Ukk!!
Posted by gledwood at 12:51 AM GMT
Updated: Sunday, 7 January 2007 6:37 PM GMT
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Comments Page 1 of 1
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 7:06 AM GMT
Name: "Holly Blue"
Yes people can be a pain this much I know is true....
I'd much rather be a butterfly! ;)
Reply to this Comment
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 9:51 AM GMT
Name: "Gledwood"
Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com.blog
I don't blame you.
Gleds.
Wednesday's Proper Posting
Mood: incredulous
Now Playing: incredulously... people!!-- gaah!!!
Topic: Daily Doings
MY PROPER POSTING for today. Yes I conked out again with my little Mousey up my sleeve. Mousing around, up and down my sleeve, whiskers all a-tickling me, push-push-pushing with his nose. Then, as I say, settling down to yet more extended hours of sleep. Funny, but when he’s intent on rambling somewhere more interesting, even if I put my forearms vertical he climbs up the material with ease, pops out and climbs on my hands, hangs over the brink of my cuffs, judging ever more cavalierly the distance for a leap down…
I’M GLAD I’M AT HOME. Am not too much of a fan of the Vast Outside most of the time.
People! Bloody people!
The girls in the bookshop were sweet, wishing me happy new year. They know me well from my times last year when I went through a great deal of the Wordsworth Editions £1.99 Classics range. Ordering titles, one at a time, through their computer. Leaving me with half a shelf full of half read Victorian fiction. Anna Karenina I'm still tackling gamely. I adore that book. It's just that I have the attentionspan of a gnat that makes the concentrating upon all 850++ pages rather difficult.
Then I’m leaving the booksshop when a Greek voice accosts me and two deranged eyes. A Local Psycho, who used to call himself my friend, demands £1. So he can go get a drink. I said no. Then, two glassy inner –spiralling eyes met mine and a rant — “I saw you with my friend (what friend?) in the off-licence (liquor store) this morning. What off licence? Don’t laugh at me. Next time I see you I’m gonna hit you. What’s wrong with now? Does he know my really puny left hook?
(MY RIGHT HOOK, on the other hand, even Charles the Schizophrenic Boxer admires my right hook. He tries not to look pained when, standing palms out, he allows me to smack them fearlessly.)
[I've just read this back the next day. And who was supposed to be fearless. Him or me?]
So Zorba doddles off. I brave the local supermarket. “Brave” is the operative word for their most recent “StoreD”, in an Alzheimerian feat of confabulation, remembers calling me into the back room of a prominent high street pharmacy accused of theft of what I later identified as a £25 copper antiarthritis bangle. What else annoyed me in this incident was that nobody had witnessed me even touching said bangle (that’s because I hadn’t). A new and rather thick member of staff had merely witnessed me stand beside the empty packet as I perused camera batteries (I needed a new battery for my oldfashioned auto-advance film camera.)
“Look, just put it on the table now and you’ll get a banning letter (banning me for life from the shop? For doing nothing? No thanks.) and we’ll leave it at that,” said Mr StoreD in a voice so reasonable I almost felt silly having to contradict him and tell him the truth. The harsh unpalatable truth that someone who looked like a junkie had actually, for once, not stolen the item in question. He didn’t like this. Once I’d emptied my every pocket, turned my bag inside-out, proved beyond doubt that no £25 arthritis bracelet was in my possession, I pointed to the luxuriant bank of CCTV monitors and challenged him to prove the “crime” on them.
My invitation was immediately declined.
What gets me the most about this episode is that the guilty StoreD remembers my face (though he assumed I’d forgotten his for I blanked him so effectively on so many occasions), remembers the accusation, yet affects to have forgotten my innocence. He even started getting quite lairy with me last time he caught me in this unnamed supermarket, ejecting me for “theft” of a single carrier bag. My friend Valium Marilyn’s had split so I was only doing a favour. He threw me out as if I’d been apprehended committing grand theft larceny. Well and truly in his element he threatened me with “the back room” should I dare set foot inside the hallowed sliding doors again. When I told him that the “last time” of which he kept reminding me, I’d actually done nothing wrong and he knew that, his eyes flashed with inner fury and he growled to , “Get out of my face.”...
Thankfully no security appeared to be “on” this evening so I braved the supermarket, got all me food. Feeling well pleased with myself I breezed outside ony to run slap bang into Crackhead of the Century imploring me for £50p. Come on, just 50p I know you’ve got it.” I pleaded poverty and hurried to the busstop. People!
Fair enough I used to beg up change. But I never begged “off my own” (why ask someone who has nothing?— that makes no sense. That is taking the pee-pee.) Also when I begged I sat down. In the end, I had so many “regulars” I didn’t even need to ask. The money came of people’s free will. If someone didn’t want to talk to me, so be it. I ignored them. And I got very little trouble because of this. C of the C, on the other hand, seems to have a bashed-in face nearly every other time I meet him. Which is far too frequently for my liking.
And here endeth today’s posting. People! Ukk!!
Posted by gledwood at 12:51 AM GMT
Updated: Sunday, 7 January 2007 6:37 PM GMT
Post Comment | View Comments (2) | Permalink
Comments Page 1 of 1
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 7:06 AM GMT
Name: "Holly Blue"
Yes people can be a pain this much I know is true....
I'd much rather be a butterfly! ;)
Reply to this Comment
Thursday, 4 January 2007 - 9:51 AM GMT
Name: "Gledwood"
Home Page: http://gledwood.tripod.com.blog
I don't blame you.
Gleds.
Friday, 19 January 2007
Little Mousey
Mood: lyricalNow Playing: Soppy MoodTopic: Chinese Mouse
LITTLE MOUSEY
(Even wino crackhead heroin junkies love their pets.)
"LITTLE MOUSEY"
Best performed by children's choir to the tune of "Little Donkey" with triangle, castanets and swanee whistle accompaniment.
LITTLE MOUSEY
Little Mousey... Little Mousey are you
keeping warm?
Little Mousey... Little Mousey shelters
from the storm.
Outside it is cold and wet.
Raining... Raining...
Haven't you got out of bed yet?
Lazy... Mousey!
Little Mousey... Little Mousey, I will
keep you safe.
Little Mousey... Little Mousey;
tiny but so brave!
Rambling and pinging time.
Naughty... Mousey...
He's escaped the Little Swine.
Naughty... Mousey...
Little Mousey... Little Mousey...
In your nest of fur.
Little Mouse, escape the kitten;
in her dream she'll purr.
Dream of catching Little Mousey.
So I'll reprimand her!
You are my entertainer....;-)
Little... Mousey!
Pinging, velvet, covered in fur.
Little... Mousey.
Little Mousey... Little Mousey,
it is now the time...
To say goodnight and sleepy warmie...
Dreaming of my rhyme...
"Aaah!"
Posted by gledwood at 3:52 PM GMT
Updated: Thursday, 7 December 2006 4:08 PM GMT
LITTLE MOUSEY
(Even wino crackhead heroin junkies love their pets.)
"LITTLE MOUSEY"
Best performed by children's choir to the tune of "Little Donkey" with triangle, castanets and swanee whistle accompaniment.
LITTLE MOUSEY
Little Mousey... Little Mousey are you
keeping warm?
Little Mousey... Little Mousey shelters
from the storm.
Outside it is cold and wet.
Raining... Raining...
Haven't you got out of bed yet?
Lazy... Mousey!
Little Mousey... Little Mousey, I will
keep you safe.
Little Mousey... Little Mousey;
tiny but so brave!
Rambling and pinging time.
Naughty... Mousey...
He's escaped the Little Swine.
Naughty... Mousey...
Little Mousey... Little Mousey...
In your nest of fur.
Little Mouse, escape the kitten;
in her dream she'll purr.
Dream of catching Little Mousey.
So I'll reprimand her!
You are my entertainer....;-)
Little... Mousey!
Pinging, velvet, covered in fur.
Little... Mousey.
Little Mousey... Little Mousey,
it is now the time...
To say goodnight and sleepy warmie...
Dreaming of my rhyme...
"Aaah!"
Posted by gledwood at 3:52 PM GMT
Updated: Thursday, 7 December 2006 4:08 PM GMT
Big Baby Mouster
Tuesday, 5 December 2006
Mood: lyricalNow Playing: Responsible AdultTopic: Chinese Mouse
HARVEY THE CHINESE HAMMY'S GROWING UP FAST. In hammy years he's already hit his teens. He has an adult coat all sand-coloured and the same bristly "mane" across the shoulderblades that tomcats and other male mammals get.
I've taught him a couple of tricks. He grabs my finger by the back legs and swings down like a bat. If nothing's worth dropping for he reverses back to sitting position without ever putting a foot wrong.
He climbs the flex of my mobile phone charger housemouse-style. I'm saving up to get him a proper mouse-cage with bars for climbing because I think that stuck in an old fishtank — and not being into wheels — he must be bored.
He will still relax in the folds of my clothing, or even sleep there. He gets a good hour of supervised exercise each night. It is very closely monitored, though. Since last week's jailbreak I'm on full alert for all his escapological antics.
I love my Mousey — but when he tries to escape he is a bloody swine.
Posted by gledwood at 8:48 PM GMT
Updated: Tuesday, 5 December 2006 11:31 PM GMT
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Wednesday, 6 December 2006 - 8:50 PM GMT
Name: "mousie" Home Page: http://plumpiemousie.blogspot.comE-Mail: claudine.le-gac@laposte.net
I have a dog...one I picked up in the street...the girl had just found a flat and couldn't keep him...he was a baby, couldn't feed himself...he 's so cute and full of love...
We also had an old dog we adopted as well...when my son Thomas had crisis, terrible one, she lied down on him and would not move until he got better...
these animals are so important for us...
love to yours from Tao my dog
Mousie, who's proud of knowing you
Mood: lyricalNow Playing: Responsible AdultTopic: Chinese Mouse
HARVEY THE CHINESE HAMMY'S GROWING UP FAST. In hammy years he's already hit his teens. He has an adult coat all sand-coloured and the same bristly "mane" across the shoulderblades that tomcats and other male mammals get.
I've taught him a couple of tricks. He grabs my finger by the back legs and swings down like a bat. If nothing's worth dropping for he reverses back to sitting position without ever putting a foot wrong.
He climbs the flex of my mobile phone charger housemouse-style. I'm saving up to get him a proper mouse-cage with bars for climbing because I think that stuck in an old fishtank — and not being into wheels — he must be bored.
He will still relax in the folds of my clothing, or even sleep there. He gets a good hour of supervised exercise each night. It is very closely monitored, though. Since last week's jailbreak I'm on full alert for all his escapological antics.
I love my Mousey — but when he tries to escape he is a bloody swine.
Posted by gledwood at 8:48 PM GMT
Updated: Tuesday, 5 December 2006 11:31 PM GMT
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Comments Page 1 of 1
Wednesday, 6 December 2006 - 8:50 PM GMT
Name: "mousie" Home Page: http://plumpiemousie.blogspot.comE-Mail: claudine.le-gac@laposte.net
I have a dog...one I picked up in the street...the girl had just found a flat and couldn't keep him...he was a baby, couldn't feed himself...he 's so cute and full of love...
We also had an old dog we adopted as well...when my son Thomas had crisis, terrible one, she lied down on him and would not move until he got better...
these animals are so important for us...
love to yours from Tao my dog
Mousie, who's proud of knowing you
High Security Prisoner Escapes
HIGH SECURITY PRISONER ESCAPES!Mood: incredulousNow Playing: JailerTopic: Chinese Mouse
HARVEY, THE CHINESE SWINE, made a jailbreak last night. The hour was 5am GMT — his nightly ramble time — when the swine made his jailbreak — rushing my sleeve to freedom. & gaah! — no sign of the rodent.
Ten minutes passes. I have not to be frantic because this will frighten him off.
Then his vole-like face emerges by a can of lighter gas under my bed. On first glimpse, believing he is tame, I lunge at him and he pings away. He's so depressingly quick and agile I am despairing.
Now I know what that dark "dorsal stripe" is for. It is a chipmunk-style go-faster stripe. And it works.
And now I've frightened him, he's vanished well and truly. No sign of the escapee at all. I go out and get a cyder to calm my nerves.
Off goes the normal light, on with fireglow bulbs. His fishtank is sideways on the floor, tempting him with food and water and his own bed.
And suddenly, poppy-eyed and chipmunk-nimble, the swine reappears.
The smell of his own bed is too much to resist & bang — I caught him.
Ears down and pentinent He ckulks back to his nest, cussing to himself , "Drat — back to a life-sentance of four glass walls and a diet of glorified muesli."
Posted by gledwood at 6:40 PM GMT
Updated: Sunday, 3 December 2006 7:06 PM GMT
HARVEY, THE CHINESE SWINE, made a jailbreak last night. The hour was 5am GMT — his nightly ramble time — when the swine made his jailbreak — rushing my sleeve to freedom. & gaah! — no sign of the rodent.
Ten minutes passes. I have not to be frantic because this will frighten him off.
Then his vole-like face emerges by a can of lighter gas under my bed. On first glimpse, believing he is tame, I lunge at him and he pings away. He's so depressingly quick and agile I am despairing.
Now I know what that dark "dorsal stripe" is for. It is a chipmunk-style go-faster stripe. And it works.
And now I've frightened him, he's vanished well and truly. No sign of the escapee at all. I go out and get a cyder to calm my nerves.
Off goes the normal light, on with fireglow bulbs. His fishtank is sideways on the floor, tempting him with food and water and his own bed.
And suddenly, poppy-eyed and chipmunk-nimble, the swine reappears.
The smell of his own bed is too much to resist & bang — I caught him.
Ears down and pentinent He ckulks back to his nest, cussing to himself , "Drat — back to a life-sentance of four glass walls and a diet of glorified muesli."
Posted by gledwood at 6:40 PM GMT
Updated: Sunday, 3 December 2006 7:06 PM GMT
Wednesday's Child - Soccer Nations
Wednesday's ChildMood: chattyNow Playing: SoccerTopic: Football Nations
Wednesday's child is full of woe...
Thursday's child has far to go...
Don't even know what day I was born on. I did ask what time. And got two totally different answers from mum and dad. My Dad said somethng about an important football match clashing with my birth "fixture" so I'd tend to take his word more seriously. (Soccer) football is about as "important" here in the UK as anything gets.
You could even say it's Britain's national religion, because far more people watch the World Cup, say, than ever go to church. The local pub was literally overflowing on the final France v Italy. Amusing national rivalries came out at this time. Eg.: Every goal Italy put in got massive roars of approval.
We Brits still haven't got over our military spats with France: the 1066 Battle of Hastings (which we lost) or the 1815 Battle of Waterloo (which we won).
I was talking about this (Britain's national relationships with other nations) to an old lady I know in the Post Office queue the other week. She wasn't having any of it. Wouldn't admit that national prejudices exist at all, when we all know they do. Football matches are a prime time obviously for them to come out.
France, our nearest neighbour, we've always had a love-hate relationship with. Despite our being on the same side in two World Wars, despite our love of French wines (esp. Champagne) & cheeses & the fact that most posh restaurants still feature a mostly French menu. Despite the fact that we all (try to) learn French as our first (& usually only) foreign language & that being au fait with French expressions is considered a sign of good education. Despite the fact that France is the number one location for second homes, there still persists this lingering resentment/jealousy/rivalry. After all we are nations of roughly equal size. (60,000,000 population each.) Except they have about five times more land to live on, a more bearable climate, the glamourous Mediterranean coast as well as Alpine skiing. Plus++ one of their départements (county shires) is a Caribbean isle. The French definitely grabbed the finest plot of land in Europe. I mean, what more could you ask for?
I won't get into London-Paris comparisons. Except to say London is very much the superior town... Anyway...
I used to think national characteristics didn't exist; but they do. A nation, after all, is merely a vastly extended family and all families have their own particular habits, views and ways of life. That's not to say that individuals should be judged on nationality. I hate hearing people say, Those Germans/Spanish/Dutch/whatever, they're all the same. Because of course they're not. What I'm saying is we all hold on to group as well as individual identities.
I always find the American view of the Brits amusing — the one that believes we're all so formal and uptight and conventional, when actually, I have v often found the exact reverse to be true. The British have just always liked to do things in our own understated way.
Compare football English crowds with foreigners... even then we're understated. For sheer ebullient exotic uninhibited maniacal excitement we cannot match the South Americans. ...And to think Pele, #1 footballer in the World in the 1960s, reduced to small newspaper ads touting erection failure assistance. What can I say?
How I got from Wednesday to Viagra, who knows? Mousey slept up my sleeve last night only to wake me at 4am with his incessant ferretting up and down my arm. When I offered him the freedom of the Great Outside, he peered suspiciously out from my cuff, sniffed the air, turned on his tail and pinged back to the warmth and safety of my elbow nest.
It is endearing seeing him treat me as "home". He runs away from my hand when I attempt to pick him out. No thanks. I'm fine here. And he is so tiny!
In his proper home (an aquarium) he sleeps in an empty Jaffas Cakes box. The morning after I gave him this luxury hamster bedroom (bathroom ensuite, there's loads of poos on the floor) I cannot help but notice the humungous holes the little beast has chewed in the floor. Yes I know they're called "rodents" because they're nibblers by nature — but honestly! Not even 24 hrs and there's holes in it already. Right in the middle of it, mind. Not the side. So what he got hold of to get his teeth into I cannot fathom.
Imagine the translation in human terms: "— Oh, what a lovely place. I think I'll live here. Oh yes indeedy. And this lovely big shaded chamber shall be my bedroom..."
(An hour passes.)
."..Oh dear. Ooh. Ooer. Oh dearie me. I'm so bored. What on earth am I going to do? Oh I know — I'll chew a bloody great hole in the floor!"
— See what I mean?
When we had wild mice, one chewed a footprint-sized dent in my cupboard. What he imagined he was doing I'd truly love to know. And he didn't have the excuse of being bored in captivity. Anyway I'm off now. It's 4:30 pm and dark already.
As the Looney Tunes used to say, That's All Folks!
Gleddie xx
PS We used to know a lady called Luna. I told my friend her surname was Tick — and he believed me!
Posted by gledwood at 3:36 PM GMT
Updated: Thursday, 30 November 2006 5:47 PM GMT
Wednesday's child is full of woe...
Thursday's child has far to go...
Don't even know what day I was born on. I did ask what time. And got two totally different answers from mum and dad. My Dad said somethng about an important football match clashing with my birth "fixture" so I'd tend to take his word more seriously. (Soccer) football is about as "important" here in the UK as anything gets.
You could even say it's Britain's national religion, because far more people watch the World Cup, say, than ever go to church. The local pub was literally overflowing on the final France v Italy. Amusing national rivalries came out at this time. Eg.: Every goal Italy put in got massive roars of approval.
We Brits still haven't got over our military spats with France: the 1066 Battle of Hastings (which we lost) or the 1815 Battle of Waterloo (which we won).
I was talking about this (Britain's national relationships with other nations) to an old lady I know in the Post Office queue the other week. She wasn't having any of it. Wouldn't admit that national prejudices exist at all, when we all know they do. Football matches are a prime time obviously for them to come out.
France, our nearest neighbour, we've always had a love-hate relationship with. Despite our being on the same side in two World Wars, despite our love of French wines (esp. Champagne) & cheeses & the fact that most posh restaurants still feature a mostly French menu. Despite the fact that we all (try to) learn French as our first (& usually only) foreign language & that being au fait with French expressions is considered a sign of good education. Despite the fact that France is the number one location for second homes, there still persists this lingering resentment/jealousy/rivalry. After all we are nations of roughly equal size. (60,000,000 population each.) Except they have about five times more land to live on, a more bearable climate, the glamourous Mediterranean coast as well as Alpine skiing. Plus++ one of their départements (county shires) is a Caribbean isle. The French definitely grabbed the finest plot of land in Europe. I mean, what more could you ask for?
I won't get into London-Paris comparisons. Except to say London is very much the superior town... Anyway...
I used to think national characteristics didn't exist; but they do. A nation, after all, is merely a vastly extended family and all families have their own particular habits, views and ways of life. That's not to say that individuals should be judged on nationality. I hate hearing people say, Those Germans/Spanish/Dutch/whatever, they're all the same. Because of course they're not. What I'm saying is we all hold on to group as well as individual identities.
I always find the American view of the Brits amusing — the one that believes we're all so formal and uptight and conventional, when actually, I have v often found the exact reverse to be true. The British have just always liked to do things in our own understated way.
Compare football English crowds with foreigners... even then we're understated. For sheer ebullient exotic uninhibited maniacal excitement we cannot match the South Americans. ...And to think Pele, #1 footballer in the World in the 1960s, reduced to small newspaper ads touting erection failure assistance. What can I say?
How I got from Wednesday to Viagra, who knows? Mousey slept up my sleeve last night only to wake me at 4am with his incessant ferretting up and down my arm. When I offered him the freedom of the Great Outside, he peered suspiciously out from my cuff, sniffed the air, turned on his tail and pinged back to the warmth and safety of my elbow nest.
It is endearing seeing him treat me as "home". He runs away from my hand when I attempt to pick him out. No thanks. I'm fine here. And he is so tiny!
In his proper home (an aquarium) he sleeps in an empty Jaffas Cakes box. The morning after I gave him this luxury hamster bedroom (bathroom ensuite, there's loads of poos on the floor) I cannot help but notice the humungous holes the little beast has chewed in the floor. Yes I know they're called "rodents" because they're nibblers by nature — but honestly! Not even 24 hrs and there's holes in it already. Right in the middle of it, mind. Not the side. So what he got hold of to get his teeth into I cannot fathom.
Imagine the translation in human terms: "— Oh, what a lovely place. I think I'll live here. Oh yes indeedy. And this lovely big shaded chamber shall be my bedroom..."
(An hour passes.)
."..Oh dear. Ooh. Ooer. Oh dearie me. I'm so bored. What on earth am I going to do? Oh I know — I'll chew a bloody great hole in the floor!"
— See what I mean?
When we had wild mice, one chewed a footprint-sized dent in my cupboard. What he imagined he was doing I'd truly love to know. And he didn't have the excuse of being bored in captivity. Anyway I'm off now. It's 4:30 pm and dark already.
As the Looney Tunes used to say, That's All Folks!
Gleddie xx
PS We used to know a lady called Luna. I told my friend her surname was Tick — and he believed me!
Posted by gledwood at 3:36 PM GMT
Updated: Thursday, 30 November 2006 5:47 PM GMT
Harvey Hamster
Harvey HamsterMood: energeticNow Playing: Chinese WhispersTopic: Chinese Mouse
"Hi, my name is Harvey the Naughty Chinese Harvest Hamster. If my owner was bright enough to scan + add my mugshot, it would be right here↓→."
Okay I've let the mouse speak. I've always been one for pets of the rodent variety from syrian hamsters (the big tubby ones) to "fancy" mice, Campbell's Condensed Russians to Winter White Dwarves (the last two are practically the same).
Harvey is still a baby. He was sold to me as a girl and I'm glad I double-checked their facts just for my own information. Girl hammies have 2 holes close together; boy hammies have 2 pink dots further apart. Eventually as they mature they develop unfeasably large testicles à la Buster Gonad from Viz magazine. (A hamster's testes are as big or bigger than his head!!)
Being a baby he still sleeps a lot of the time. I have to say that from the minute I bought him he is the tamest pet I've ever had. While his cagemate pinged violently from corner to corner, Harvey just at still on my hand, peering goodnaturedly at the action. (Hamsters, mice & rats are extremely shortsighted, hence the old expression mouse sight, meaning "myopic".
Because they dislike direct light (even lamplight), I put fireglow bulbs in mine. Little rodents can't see by this so to him it's near pitch darkness when the room is lit a peaceful red. His ears prick up to the max and he pings to & fro up my arms to shoulders and down again — 5am being peak time for him. By daylight he is tucked up in bed and practically unrouseable.
As I say, a Chinese hamster is nothing like a tubby Syrian hammy. For one thing, he's about a quarter of the size and a tenth of the weight (if that). He does look to all intents and purposes like a mouse with a 2cm twiddly tail & black stripe down his back. His fur is "ticked" all over (ie. black-grey-brown) and a far richer colour than the ordinary house mouse's dull coat. His tummy is white with black undercoat. With his big poppy eyes he looks more like a European woodmouse than anything else. And as the websites say, he does hug my finger with all fours, just like an English harvest mouse. (hence the nickname).
Harvey is called a hammy not a mouse because he does occasionally use cheek pouches. But they're never enormously packed to overflowing like the golden hamsters' of my childhood. Plus (another oddness) — he will not run the wheel. Even when I hooked it over the side of a chair three feet up so he's nowhere to go but round the wheel, he spent most of the 20 mins peering down at the fallbreaking pillows I'd arranged below, wondering if a grand leap to freedom was worth the risk. When I did persuade him to tread the wheel, with coaxing: "come on, come on!" he did it so gingerly and unenthusiastically I eventually let him down. Never in my life have I met another hamster who hated wheels!
Well that's enough about Harvey. He's currently drinking from a Coke bottle lid because his waterbottle's broken, so I'm going out to get a new one now.
L8Rs,
G.
Posted by gledwood at 3:02 PM GMT
Updated: Monday, 4 December 2006 7:13 PM GMT
"Hi, my name is Harvey the Naughty Chinese Harvest Hamster. If my owner was bright enough to scan + add my mugshot, it would be right here↓→."
Okay I've let the mouse speak. I've always been one for pets of the rodent variety from syrian hamsters (the big tubby ones) to "fancy" mice, Campbell's Condensed Russians to Winter White Dwarves (the last two are practically the same).
Harvey is still a baby. He was sold to me as a girl and I'm glad I double-checked their facts just for my own information. Girl hammies have 2 holes close together; boy hammies have 2 pink dots further apart. Eventually as they mature they develop unfeasably large testicles à la Buster Gonad from Viz magazine. (A hamster's testes are as big or bigger than his head!!)
Being a baby he still sleeps a lot of the time. I have to say that from the minute I bought him he is the tamest pet I've ever had. While his cagemate pinged violently from corner to corner, Harvey just at still on my hand, peering goodnaturedly at the action. (Hamsters, mice & rats are extremely shortsighted, hence the old expression mouse sight, meaning "myopic".
Because they dislike direct light (even lamplight), I put fireglow bulbs in mine. Little rodents can't see by this so to him it's near pitch darkness when the room is lit a peaceful red. His ears prick up to the max and he pings to & fro up my arms to shoulders and down again — 5am being peak time for him. By daylight he is tucked up in bed and practically unrouseable.
As I say, a Chinese hamster is nothing like a tubby Syrian hammy. For one thing, he's about a quarter of the size and a tenth of the weight (if that). He does look to all intents and purposes like a mouse with a 2cm twiddly tail & black stripe down his back. His fur is "ticked" all over (ie. black-grey-brown) and a far richer colour than the ordinary house mouse's dull coat. His tummy is white with black undercoat. With his big poppy eyes he looks more like a European woodmouse than anything else. And as the websites say, he does hug my finger with all fours, just like an English harvest mouse. (hence the nickname).
Harvey is called a hammy not a mouse because he does occasionally use cheek pouches. But they're never enormously packed to overflowing like the golden hamsters' of my childhood. Plus (another oddness) — he will not run the wheel. Even when I hooked it over the side of a chair three feet up so he's nowhere to go but round the wheel, he spent most of the 20 mins peering down at the fallbreaking pillows I'd arranged below, wondering if a grand leap to freedom was worth the risk. When I did persuade him to tread the wheel, with coaxing: "come on, come on!" he did it so gingerly and unenthusiastically I eventually let him down. Never in my life have I met another hamster who hated wheels!
Well that's enough about Harvey. He's currently drinking from a Coke bottle lid because his waterbottle's broken, so I'm going out to get a new one now.
L8Rs,
G.
Posted by gledwood at 3:02 PM GMT
Updated: Monday, 4 December 2006 7:13 PM GMT
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