Jambeth
02-27-2013, 07:36 PM
I don't feel I gave Skitzee justice in my first post. So, I'm gonna try again. I hope the mods don't mind.
Skitzee was my life line. Right after highschool, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD), right after I had a nervous break down, which caused me to quit my job. My therapist suggested I get a pet, and well, we live in a house that doesn't allow pets really. So, I figured why not get a hamster, they are easy to take care of, ya know, whatever. I was never really much of a rodent person, or a caged animal person at that. I was more into cats than anything. And I figured if I couldn't get a cat, I didn't want an animal. But, my mom talked me into it, so we went to the local pet store. A small family owned one. Skitzee was a golden syrian hamster, a brownish gold and white. He was the only one sleeping, well at least he was trying to sleep, but he kept getting disturbed by his siblings. So, I thought, he needs a home of his own so he can sleep whenever he wants. Later, I found out you're supposed to pick out an active one, but Skitzee just, he called to me.
We spent seventy dollars on a crittertrail cage, only to come back the next day and spend another fifty dollars on another one. He was very mellow and easy to tame. His name didn't come from his personality, it came from my disorder. At first I didn't understand it, so I thought I had a form of schizophrenia, so I named him Skitzee. After me. I soon learned he hated just about every store bought treat that I gave him, except for pancakes, he loved pancakes. He also hated his ball, well I wouldn't say hated. He would just sit in there and use as a shower, cleaning himself for a good ten minutes until I finally realized he was never going to use for it's real purpose and took him out. He loved being held, and for the most part stayed close by me.
I never took him outside, and that is one thing I do regret. But, the longer I had him the more attached I got. And I was afraid if I took him outside I would somehow lose him. And even though I didn't take him out, I ended up losing him anyway. He lived to be nearly two. He was a year and nine months old when he died. He brought joy to my life when I had none. He was my best friend when I didn't have one. My friends didn't understand my BPD and me being admitted to a mental facility four times a row freaked most of them out. But, Skitzee was always there when I came home, ready to be held and cuddled. I miss him so much, and damn I am crying right now. I just felt that I needed to write something longer than my first post, because he deserves it. The reason I didn't tell our full story the first time is because I was little iffy about telling everyone about my BPD.
He also loved cardboard. He would tear it to shreds, and put it in his nest. He loved apple flavored sticks that we found at walmart, but those were the only things he seemed to like, besides pancakes, other than his food. He was an intersting, yet simple hamster. I'll try to get some pictures up of him soon.
Skitzee was my life line. Right after highschool, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD), right after I had a nervous break down, which caused me to quit my job. My therapist suggested I get a pet, and well, we live in a house that doesn't allow pets really. So, I figured why not get a hamster, they are easy to take care of, ya know, whatever. I was never really much of a rodent person, or a caged animal person at that. I was more into cats than anything. And I figured if I couldn't get a cat, I didn't want an animal. But, my mom talked me into it, so we went to the local pet store. A small family owned one. Skitzee was a golden syrian hamster, a brownish gold and white. He was the only one sleeping, well at least he was trying to sleep, but he kept getting disturbed by his siblings. So, I thought, he needs a home of his own so he can sleep whenever he wants. Later, I found out you're supposed to pick out an active one, but Skitzee just, he called to me.
We spent seventy dollars on a crittertrail cage, only to come back the next day and spend another fifty dollars on another one. He was very mellow and easy to tame. His name didn't come from his personality, it came from my disorder. At first I didn't understand it, so I thought I had a form of schizophrenia, so I named him Skitzee. After me. I soon learned he hated just about every store bought treat that I gave him, except for pancakes, he loved pancakes. He also hated his ball, well I wouldn't say hated. He would just sit in there and use as a shower, cleaning himself for a good ten minutes until I finally realized he was never going to use for it's real purpose and took him out. He loved being held, and for the most part stayed close by me.
I never took him outside, and that is one thing I do regret. But, the longer I had him the more attached I got. And I was afraid if I took him outside I would somehow lose him. And even though I didn't take him out, I ended up losing him anyway. He lived to be nearly two. He was a year and nine months old when he died. He brought joy to my life when I had none. He was my best friend when I didn't have one. My friends didn't understand my BPD and me being admitted to a mental facility four times a row freaked most of them out. But, Skitzee was always there when I came home, ready to be held and cuddled. I miss him so much, and damn I am crying right now. I just felt that I needed to write something longer than my first post, because he deserves it. The reason I didn't tell our full story the first time is because I was little iffy about telling everyone about my BPD.
He also loved cardboard. He would tear it to shreds, and put it in his nest. He loved apple flavored sticks that we found at walmart, but those were the only things he seemed to like, besides pancakes, other than his food. He was an intersting, yet simple hamster. I'll try to get some pictures up of him soon.