Saturday Saturday 25th March 2000
Dak the Hamster reports on a second attempt to interview that strange new hamster


I felt - after my last effort - that I had made an initial mistake by trying to interview Fluffy Bernadette - the psychoanalyst of the rich and famous rodents - at her work apartment over on the west side of Chevy Chase. The editor had arranged this rendezvous at a small rodent cafe nearer the centre of the city where rodents came to meet and chat about the things that were on their minds and to pass a few hours in friendly company.

She was late - I guess that's a lady's prerogative - and I'd started to play with the serviettes, crafting them to make some shapes and forms that I'd seen on an Origami program some months back on cable. I think the frog is my favourite design, though the water bomb is such fun that one can use it for indoor tennis and other games that need something collapsible that won't damage Lee and Kath's ornaments.

She emerged through the revolving doors and raised a paw to acknowledge my presence, scampering over to take up her position in front of me. We exchanged pleasantries and I ordered a drink for the both of us before getting down to business.

'Now' I began 'You obviously know why I'm here. Our readers have heard a lot about you and we wanted to put together an article about who you are and the type of work you do. It may even serve as a sort of advert for the services you can offer'

'Yes' she agreed 'But what does this have to do with the relationship I had with my mother, eh? I was young and didn't know the ways of the world then and she was only trying to protect me, you hear?'

I could see this wasn't going to be easy - call it a 'feeling' or what you will, but I just got the impression that this interview wasn't going to go the way I'd been hoping.

'Let's...' I tried to choose my words carefully 'talk about...er...your wor...no, no - sorry. I almost forgot. Our readers wanted to know what brought you to Washington - after all, we saw that you used to be an out-of-towner'

She looked at me through the tinted glasses that had begun sliding down her nose and tried to compose herself - 'So, I guess my reputation follows me, then?'

I looked at the notepad to see if there was something there that she'd read while I was writing. No, nothing that could've prompted such a statement. Was it me? Was it my parents or that incident I'd had when I'd trapped a whisker in a Rotastak tube as a young hamlet that was causing this reaction? 'Come on, Dak!' I told myself 'You're getting neurotic!'

But this could work to my advantage. With an air of professionalism that shocked even me, I confessed in as vague a sentence as possible: 'Yes, of course, we have access to a very great many sources and we've heard all about what happened before you came here'

'Oh dear' she squeaked and paused for a few moments before continuing 'Well, how was I to know it was a tomato? I hadn't any concept of such a fruit before I saw one there in real life - and it just looked, looked - well, you know how it looked. Oh, how Freud was right! Jung, too. But, you know, it was the pineapple that really caused me the emotional damage...'

'This hamster is hung up!' I thought to myself as she continued 'she needs professional help!'

I let her squeak on about pickled walnuts and fresh gherkins that were covered in cream for a full ten minutes as I looked up a good counsellor and wrote down the number. I pressed the piece of paper into her hand and said:

'Give them a ring - I'm sure they can help. Honestly, they're good friends of mine...'

Dak the Hamster writes for the Rodent Weekly.
This article appears courtesy of that paper.




Visit the official Hamster Presidential web site

Home page