A refutation of the scurrilous Hamster-eating charge
Regarding Miss Doolittle's recent suggestion that Stoats may have a penchant for eating hamsters, I don't pretend to serve as a spokesman (spokestoat?) for all stoats or denizens of genus mustelidae, but I can and will speak for myself on this cutting-edge issue that is captivating the attentions of people the world over. And in so doing I would like to go on record as indicating that I have never eaten, nay, nor even nibbled at, a hamster nor any specie of rodentia.
Furthermore, I should wish to make it known that not only have I avoided hamsters as a culinary concept both in theory and in practice in my own life but I have personally prevented a hamster from meeting it's demise for the purpose of gastronomic indulgence. Allow me to explain.
In the early 1980's, I was co-owner of a catering company here in Seattle that provided food for all of the major rock and roll shows that played in the area...for the performers and their crews. Many readers here are likely familiar with the rock legend (and enthusiastic golfer) Alice Cooper
http://www.alicecooper.com/
Alice Cooper, as part of his stage performance, includes a congenial although rather large snake in his act, who coils him(?)self around Mr. Cooper and provides valuable theatric augmentation to the show, as well as serving as a positive role model for snakes everywhere, demonstrating to them in a tangible manner how they can rise above their typically lowly state and achieve fame, fortune, and frequent flyer miles.
After one of Mr. Cooper's shows, I was approached by one of the roadies ( a person employed for the purpose of setting up stage equipment) with a request for assistance. He told me that the snake had recently eaten and would likely not be requiring any food for another couple of days, and would I be so kind as to take an "extra hamster" off their hands so that they would not be burdened with hamster-care as well as snake-care?
Naturally I agreed, having no desire for my friend to be saddled with an unwanted burden. I found a little cardboard box and put several holes in it, and this served as a fine transport container from the performance arena to the Stoat Cave. Once home, I duct-taped the plastic dome of a broken popcorn popper over the top of a much larger cardboard box filled with shredded newspapers and food, and this served as a marvellous transitional abode for the hamster until I was able to find a mom who wanted her child to have the hamster as a beloved pet.
Hopefully, my recounting of this series of events will put to rest any suggestions that I might view the venerable hamster as any form of viable substitute to the far more appropriate filet mignon with bearnaise sauce and whisky chaser that represents a more realistic depiction of my favored snacking habits.
Thank you for your attention, and you may now resume your previous business.
