August - Kona

Each August, I remember the tale of Kona the nearly yearling. A bit of background is needed to set the scene. A member of my family loved animals, but had to prove that they would take care of small creatures before earning the privilege of owning a larger companion. We purchased a secession of cheap hamsters from the Supermarket, each doomed to die within a month of separation from their first habitat. That August the 11th it was to be different - we made the effort to visit a pet store and buy a quality dwarf hamster.

It was rather cute in its tiny, vulnerable form. We named it Kona, after the strongly brewed coffee bean. This one, we were determined would survive for a year in our care. We watched over its antics in the plastic cage for a year. Somehow, it managed to escape its lodgings for nights out on the floor, always to be discovered within the week. Just how it managed to squeeze through the bars we never knew.

By the eight month mark, my family was confident we had gotten the hang of caring for a furry friend. Our animal lover got its wish, and we began the search for a canine companion. We had a song rewritten to the tune of a Seven Brides for Seven Brothers's initial musical number listing the qualities the perfect dog would possess. We found him a few months later, and welcomed a quiet schnauzer named Buddy. It came by its title honestly, though we strove to change it, the name stuck.

I still liked Kona better though, and one day took the critter out of its cage to watch it run along the table. Soon, I moved it to my lap so that I might look down upon it. Kona leapt from my shorts to the bench upon which I was sitting, catching the dog's attention. That was all Buddy needed to take advantage of my carelessness. Perhaps it had wondered at the miniscule occupant of the plastic and metal box on a shelf in the dining room, I don't claim to know how dog's minds function. It snatched Kona in its mouth and bolted away. I cried out in alarm at the skittering shadowed animal rushing away to show its master the find.

Finally, we cornered Buddy and pried open its jaws. Quivering inside was our beloved dwarf hamster, soaked it spit and one unfortunate ear bleeding from the clearance of the teeth. We sat silent for a moment. It had nearly been a year, but there it lay in my father's hands, the remains of the tiny life. It slowly began to breathe again. We all rejoiced and rushed it back to the cage to rest and recuperate. We placed a fresh strawberry half inside to speed Kona's recovery from its ordeal in the jaws of death.

Sadly, the hamster died the next morning, leaving the strawberry unfinished as well as guilt in my heart. Ever since, a featherweight of guilt brushes my heart each year at this time.