In the second grade, our classmate held hamsters and invited us to look at newborn hamsters. I remember half the class clinging to him, and he slowly opens the box in which his little friends live... I remember the bloody meat in the box; a hamster eating her babies in front of shocked children. Then the roar cried, “Krosha, what are you doing? What? and you? Do you do?” I remember the parents who tried to calm the crying crowd of the little girl.

Since then I have not loved hamsters.