Yesterday, I was going to visit my relatives in another city. Before leaving, I played with my favorite hamster, Miffy. I forgot to shut the latch.
I went off to my aunts house, and that's when I realised. But I tried to ignore the panicky feeling.
Then when it was night, we had dinner at another relative's house. I kept on telling my mum, "Miffy! Miffy!"
But she said he was probably alright, Insya Allah. It turns out Allah had wanted me to learn a lesson.
I went home and saw an ugly, worm-tailed rat bound from the shadows and hide in the bathroom. I called my dad, and he was going to get the sticky rat-catcher, but Iris defiantly refused. "Don't," she said. "What if there's still a hamster?"
I saw my hamster's cage, the latch quite open. Vifa, my other hamster, and mother of Miffy, jumped about in her cage. I saw worry painted into her wise, old eyes.
I looked behind the sofa to find a horrifying sight.
Miffy, my baby hamster, one of his paws bloodily torn off. "Miff!" I whispered. "Miff, wake up. Miffy! Miffy!"
But my hamster would rise no more. It was a lesson Allah meant for me. He was angry that I seldom helped my poor mother cook and clean.
My dad buried Miffy Kovi near my older hamster, Max.
Inalilahi wa inna ilaihi roji'un
Rest in peace, my Miffy. I'll see you later.
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