Sometimes, when psychics get together, they like to exchange stories, without naming names, of course. Some of us are mediums, which means we can connect with those who have passed on before us, and it isn’t only people that hang around after they die.
Which brought me to the whole ill-advised schtick I did about hamsters, and how they had to be the bic of pets. Cheap to obtain, very short life expectancy, and ultimately replaceable. (Well, if one would consider replacing a rodent that keeps a body up all night on that noisy danged hamster wheel.) Disposable. Could it be any other way? I thought not.
Then this medium chimes in. Now some of us have medium-istic abilities; I do myself, although I can’t refrain from replying “I’m a medium-large” when asked if I’m a medium. This guy, however, doesn’t do cards or runes, or anything else except talk to the dead. It’s his specialty.
He opens by telling us about a woman he read for. He immediately told her “I see a hamster sitting on your shoulder” whereupon the woman immediately collapsed into a noisy sobbing heap and caused quite a scene. Seems her hamster recently passed and she had trouble dealing.
I was starting to feel bad for my callous hamster remarks. People have feelings for their pets, even if they are only short-timers. I’m thinking I need to have more compassion.
Then the medium lost it. He dissolved into a gooey puddle of laughy glee that he could not contain. He was gasping as he recounted how hard it was for him to continue the reading with a straight face.
Moral: Beware of mediums if your heart has been broken by a hamster.Some of them can be real arseholes.