This summer, my 13-year-old granddaughter, Lily, came to stay with us for a few weeks.
We were all excited to have her, and she seemed just as thrilled to be here.
Lily has always been a sweet, well-behaved girl, so I didn’t expect any surprises when she arrived. But boy, was I wrong.
The day she got here, I helped her carry her suitcase up to the guest room.
She was running around, exploring the house, so I figured I’d help her unpack and make her feel at home. I opened her suitcase, expecting to find the usual stuff—clothes, maybe some books, and her favorite stuffed animal.
But when I unzipped that suitcase, I almost DROPPED it.
Right on top of her neatly folded clothes and a pile of books was a small hamster cage—occupied. A very startled, very fluffy hamster stared back at me through the plastic walls, its whiskers twitching in alarm. I gasped so hard I nearly gave myself hiccups.
Without even thinking twice, I whipped out my phone and called Lily’s mom, my daughter Susan.
“Susan, did you know Lily brought a… friend with her?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm but failing miserably. I could hear Susan’s confusion through the phone.
“A friend? Who are you talking about, Mom?” she asked.
“I’m talking about a little ball of fur with two beady eyes and a twitchy nose.
It’s in Lily’s suitcase!” I exclaimed.
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a long sigh. “I had no idea,” Susan said, sounding both irritated and a touch amused. “She’s been asking for a pet hamster for months, but we told her it wasn’t the right time.
I certainly didn’t buy her one.”
“Well, it’s definitely here,” I said. “We’ll talk about it when you have a minute to spare, but right now, I need to figure out what to do with this hamster.”
I hung up and turned around to find Lily standing in the doorway, looking both embarrassed and worried. She wrung her hands together and spoke in a small, trembling voice.
“Grandma, I’m so sorry,” she said.
“I just didn’t want to leave Muffin behind. I…I got him last week from a classmate. She needed to give him away, and I didn’t want him to go to a stranger.
But I was afraid Mom would say no.”
I knelt down, put my hand gently on her shoulder, and said, “Well, you certainly surprised me. But we’ll figure this out together, okay?” Lily nodded, eyes full of relief—and fear that I might send her new pet packing.
To be perfectly honest, I was more shocked than angry. I wasn’t upset that she’d brought a hamster—I was upset that she felt she had to hide it.
I remembered being her age, longing for some small pet to love and care for. And to her credit, the little fella was about as cute as can be.
That evening, once Lily and I set up the hamster cage properly in her room (making sure we had water, food, and bedding), I called Susan back. We agreed that, since Lily had the hamster here already, we’d keep him for the time being.
We would talk it through and see if Lily could handle the responsibility. If not, we’d have to make other arrangements.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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