Daisy is my first dog. In the past I had many fish, 8 hermit crabs, a hamster, and two budgies. The deaths of my fish and hermit crabs weren't very traumatizing, and I had to give my birds away because they were frighteningly vicious. However, Ritz my hamster was the first pet I had been attached to. I have this posted in another place, so sorry for those of you who have to read it twice, but it does help to talk about it. One day Ritz started acting sick. My mom took me out of school early to take him to the only vet we found who would care for hamsters, over an hour away. The vet gave him a shot and some medicine for me to give him each morning. It was in all $70. That money gave him one more day of life. The next morning, I took him out of his large cage and started to fill his mouth with medicine from my medicine dropper, when he started having convulsions, and he died in my hands. To a little sixth grader who had never before experienced death, it was bad. I couldn't go to school and I cried for over five hours straight. My father took me outside to bury him that cold January day only to find the ground was frozen... we can laugh at it now, when my mom tells of the two of us standing un the backyard uner the apple tree, me holding Ritz in a box, bawling, my father splitting the ground with a pic axe. We gave up and had to bury him under our porch. I still bring clover (his favorite food) and flowers I pick to his grave on his birthday, August 5, and I sprinkle some of the bird seed he loved so much on the anniversary of his death, January 17. The worst part of my hamster dying was how much people made fun of me. "He's just a HAMSTER! A little rodent! You can buy another one." No one understood! Yes he was a hamster, but not JUST a hamster. He was my pet and I loved him! I agree with Gio, it's very comforting to know that the next time I have to experience the death of a pet, I have all of you here to understand and help me through.