Originally posted by @ghost-of-a-duke
The only thing I remember sir, from my hamster days, is stuffing my cheeks full of cheese.
Maybe (just maybe) I also recall borrowing three shillings from a chap with big ears and multiple chins, but how that accrued to 1200 pounds over several incarnations is beyond me.
Well, it would be beyond the comprehension of a hamster, now wouldn’t it? I am not at liberty to divulge all of the details, however, I can reveal that the hamster was ‘liberated’ from a military ‘research’ facility, at considerable personal risk, smuggled out of the country, given a new identity, and placed in a safe house under the care of a certain 13-year old girl named Sarah (surely you remember Sarah?), who fed you endless bits of cheese (which does seem to have left an impression) and groomed your coat to keep you free of fleas. The cost of your upkeep was met privately by me, your ‘fairy godmother’ in that particular incarnation, the funds having been deducted from my wages as cook to Sarah’s family. You may redeem the debt in dark chocolate and cognac, if you prefer. (I have a fondness for dark chocolate and cognac).
The three shillings belonged to Duncan, the gardner. You had a fondness for shiny things; you may keep them.
You can verify the truth of this account by digging five meters away, NNW from the third poplar tree in the garden. You lived a full and happy life, after you were liberated, and your little corpse was buried there. (Unless the cat dug you up later...)