Nevile R.I.P.

I was in a meeting when the phone went off. It was Victoria, but as I was in the middle of a conversation, I turned off the phone. 2 minutes later a colleague comes up with the land line phone. A man, whose voice I vaguely recognise, claims to work for the tax authorities and tells me I’m behind with a payment of 5000 Euros. It came as a minor chock, as I wasn’t aware of this. I ask him if he can explain the matter in English. to which he calls me (in Dutch) a lame dick! I exclaimed “Excuse me!” Not knowing what was more chocking, the tax bill or the insult!
When he starts talking in English I recognise him. It’s my husband. He explains we have serious matters on our hands. Nevile (the hamster) is dead. It was one of those inevitable things, as he was already way past his due date. But sad nevertheless. He was arguably the animal we’ve had least worries with, never asking for much apart from a clean cage, food and water once a week. And now he was dead.

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We buried him in the evening. Victoria had found a box on which she’d written his name on. In ancient Egyptian tradition, we made sure Nevile was secure for his afterlife, and put him on a bed of hay together with a stash of food. Reinout had dug a deep hole in the garden where Victoria put his little box ornate with a dried white rose she could find.

Victoria is understandably very sad. She’s already talking about a new hamster but we’ll have to see. For now our house is in mourning.

PS: I couldn’t find a picture of Nevile. How sad isn’t that?!