The plan was executed perfectly. My wife started in the afternoon by laying out food dishes with cheese and peanut butter and then sprinkling flour around them. That way if he came out for a bite we'd know what room he was in and which direction he went. Unfortunately the only one we were able to successfully track was my daughter who kept "forgetting" the flour was there. My daughter is the "Mistress of Messes" so we were not surprised by her forgetfulness. My wife spent the afternoon looking room by room in the basement, but couldn't find any sign of him. When I got home I began my search.
One of my unofficial titles at home is "The Finder of Lost Things". I seem to have this knack of locating whatever trinket the kids have misplaced. Sometimes it's a gift and sometimes it's a curse. Pressure was heavy on me to deliver for this effort. It's a heck of a lot easier to find something that isn't mobile.
On a hunch, I pushed back the 300 lb entertainment center. I got down on my hands and knees and aimed the flashlight into the dark recesses underneath the entertainment center. There he was - staring back at me with that "damn you found me" look. The look would have been better if he had eyebrows, but it was there just the same.
Then the second surprise - sitting right next to him there was a big pile of hamster food. Food? Where the heck did that come from? Then it dawned on me. This was premeditated. He completely planned this. The hamster cage is on top of a small train table. When he got out he must have decided that he was going to jump off the table. He prepared for this by going and loading his cheek pouches full of food. Then he made his big break. Amazing!
Nibbles and I have yet another thing in common now (aside from our treadmill/hamster ball relationship). My escapes are also generally premeditated. On club bike rides I'll coast along with the group thinking carefully about when, where, and how I'll make my move. The group expects this. I've done it before, I'll do it again. Much the way Nibbles is probably already planning his next big escape. When the moment is right I'll launch. Eventually I'll tire and eventually I'll be captured, but the moment of escape brings a dizzying rush of andrenaline, exhilaration and freedom. It is ironic now that my biking buddies sometimes refer to me as "The Mouse" for my tendency to dart out in this manner. "What are you waiting for?". "I'm waiting to see if The Mouse will make a move first....". At that point I'm already gone....
I'm sure Nibbles feels the same rush of excitement as I do. As we all do. I'm sure he's addicted to this feeling. As we all are. I'm sure he'll try it again. As we all will. It's just a matter of time.
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