When a hamster reveals his true nature, it puts the entire household in disarray.

Bert was no ordinary hamster.

He was blessed with consciousness: he could think, deduce, and understand the words of the tall, peculiar creatures around him.

After he was adopted, he learned they were called humans—an unusual word for an unusual species. 

Bert had watched his human while running on his wheel, munching lettuce, or pretending to sleep. He had mastered keeping one eye slightly open, and he had noticed that his human spent its days in much the same way.

Five days a week, it got up early, ate breakfast, drank a steaming cup of whatever, and rushed off, slamming the door behind it.
Then the house went silent, except for the family dog, a golden retriever, who shuffled to a more comfortable spot to sleep.

Then, when the dog’s head shot up and its tail wagged for some mysterious reason Bert had not yet figured out, his human would open the door, remove coat and boots, and sigh. Always the same long sigh—sometimes with eyes closed, sometimes while reaching for a bottle of red, mysterious liquid.
His human would prop up their feet, turn on a square screen showing other humans, finish the glass, prepare and eat food, and then disappear upstairs for the rest of the night.

The following two days were different. His human stayed upstairs longer, came down in funny-looking outfits with hair all messed up, and moved with no rush. The only sigh came on the second day, in the evening, just before disappearing upstairs again.

Bert had figured out that this was because the next day, his human would have to leave the house again.
Today was unlike the five busy days—or the two lazy ones. It was a strange mix of being at home and rushing about.
His human had placed a peculiar tree in the corner, adorned with tiny lights. Bert had to admit—it looked beautiful. What he still couldn’t figure out was the purpose of it all.

DING DONG.

Bert jumped at the hideous sound. He hated it—and on top of that, the dog always started barking. He pressed his tiny paws over his ears, hoping to drown out the noise.
He felt a moment of relief as silence returned—only for it to be shattered when human after human after human entered the room, laughing and hugging.

“Merry Christmas!” a blond human said, kissing Bert’s brown-haired human on her cheek. The first woman handed her a bottle of that peculiar red liquid, and Bert told himself that when he finally stepped out of this cage, he would have a taste of it himself. Weeks of watching his human drink it had made him curious—and resentful of the clear liquid always hanging near his cage.

“Merry Christmas!” a black-haired human dropped a crate next to Bert’s cage. He shivered at the sudden noise and ran to the side.

“Oh, you are cute!” the human said, its finger reaching toward Bert’s nose, but Bert was faster, darting away from this horrible-smelling human.

Bert cleaned his face, almost as if the human had managed to touch him, and walked back toward the bars. He observed the humans, watched them laugh, drink, eat, and exchange weird-looking boxes with objects inside.

A sudden piercing sound filled the room with silence.
“Someone ate the cake!” Bert’s human yelled as she ran into the room with a half-eaten cake. “Who did this?”
The humans all looked at each other, eyes wide, shaking their heads.

Bert knew today was the day. He had waited for the perfect opportunity, and on this strange day, it had finally arrived. With a swift motion, he grabbed his black hat and monocle from his secret hiding place and made his way through the cage. He carefully inserted his tiny arm through the bars and then pulled open the lock on the outside. Then he ran to the corner of the cupboard where his cage was placed and lifted his arm.

“I will find out who did it!”

He had envisioned this moment every night since he moved here. He had seen how the humans cheered, clapped, and showered him with endless lettuce and red liquid. He would spend the rest of his life sleeping on a feather bed, his human laughing, feeding him through the bars—maybe even allowing him a warm bath. He felt happy and could not wait for the moment to arrive. Here it was. He had finally admitted he was no ordinary brown hamster leading an ordinary brown hamster life. No, he was special, and from now on, they would worship him like a god!

“AAAARGH!” his human shouted, dropping the half-eaten cake on the floor. “Rodent!”

All the other humans jumped onto the sofa, wobbling on the soft fabric.

“It can speak!” the black-haired human shouted.

“No… no… it cannot be!” the blond-haired woman said.

“It is true,” Bert said, standing on his back legs, holding his arm in front of his chest like he was—and always would be—a sophisticated hamster.

“I can speak,” he continued as he paced along the cupboard. “I can think too, and it is finally time to put my talents to good use!” He lifted his finger into the air before putting it back to his small mouth, thinking.
“When did you last see the cake?” he asked his human, whose chin was almost touching the ground as she gaped at him. She stammered, looked at the other humans for support, but they just shrugged, then looked back at Bert.

“Rig… right before…” Her lip quivered, and Bert gestured with his hand, telling her to continue.

“Right before my friends arrived.”

“Friends?” Bert asked.

“Yes, friends.” She gestured toward the other humans, still standing on the sofa.

“Elaborate,” Bert said, turning his monocle slightly to the left.

“You know the word ‘elaborate’ but don’t know the word ‘friends’?” his human frowned.

“Yes.” Bert cocked his tiny head.

“Friends are…” she said, “humans you like and want to spend time with.”

“Oh!” Bert exclaimed. “How lovely.” He jumped onto the table. “Now, let’s figure this out.” He sniffed the surface of the wooden table, licking a plate.

“Hmm,” he moaned. “What is this delicious taste?”
“Cranberry sauce,” his human whispered.

The black-haired human slapped her arm softly. “What are you doing?”

“Just making conversation.”

“With a hamster?!”

“My name is Bert.”

“Bert,” the black-haired human chuckled. “The hamster has a name.”

“Hi Bert, my name is Lucy.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucy.” Bert nodded.

His nose lifted as another smell reached him. To his right, he recognized the red liquid he had seen his human drink so many times. He had dreamt about it, yearned for it, and now it was finally in front of him—ready to travel down his tongue, throat, into his belly, where it would fill him with happiness. His tiny head dipped into the glass, his tongue slowly reaching for it, and he could not wait until the delicious, mysterious liquid touched—

“BLEH!” Bert spat out the liquid and coughed.

“It’s red wine,” Lucy said. “Alcohol.”

“It’s awful! Why do you drink it so much?” Bert asked. “Every day, that is!”

Lucy’s cheeks turned as red as the wine as she looked at her friends.

Bert spat again and continued his search across the table until he found a familiar smell and jumped off.

“What do you smell?” Lucy followed him.

“A smell of cake and…” Bert froze as a hush of warm wind traveled over his body. He slowly turned around, and his knees buckled as he stared into the dark brown eyes of the family dog. Bert screamed and ran toward Lucy. The dog barked and jumped up, chasing him.

“No, Luka!” Lucy screamed. “Down!”

Luka the dog stopped in its tracks. Bert had already climbed all the way onto Lucy’s shoulders, where he felt safe again.

“Aha!” Bert shouted. “I have found the culprit.”
Luka licked the remnants of the cake from his lips and wagged his tail.

“The dog ate the cake!” Bert exclaimed. He waited for applause and punishment—but the humans just laughed, and the dog wagged even faster.

“You silly dog,” Lucy said, petting Luka’s exposed belly. The friends joined in.

“What?” Bert said. “Are you not angry?” He looked down at Luka, who found the rest of the half-eaten cake and munched contentedly.

“No, of course not,” Lucy said. “He’s just a dog. He doesn’t know better.”

“You thought I didn’t know better, but then you figured out I did!” Bert exclaimed.

“Well, I’ve had Luka for eight years. He has no secrets from me. Don’t you, good boy?” Lucy said, giving his head another pat.

Bert jumped off her shoulder and landed next to his cage.
“Thank you for helping,” Lucy said. “Do you… do you want to go back into your cage or… stay outside?”

Bert walked toward his cage. “If it’s alright, I’ll stay here with you… friend.” He added the word hesitantly as he lowered his hat, grasping it tightly with both paws.

Lucy looked at her friends, who shrugged. “I guess that’s alright… friend.” She smiled.

Bert walked back into his cage. This night had not gone as he wanted, but he did not mourn it. He had gained a friend—someone who liked him and wanted to spend time with him. Surely that couldn’t mean this was a failure?

He watched as the humans cleaned up the remnants of the evening and said their goodbyes.

“Goodnight, Bert,” Lucy said before disappearing upstairs.

“Goodnight, friend,” Bert whispered before finding a comfortable position in his cage and closing his eyes.

A warm wind forced his eyes open again, and Bert shivered, pressing his back against the cold bars as he stared up at Luka.

The dog’s front paws perched on the cupboard, making him twice as tall as he would be on the floor. His upper lip pulled back slightly, and he growled.

“Eight years,” Luka began in a deep voice. “Eight years I have kept my human in ignorance.”

Bert shivered uncontrollably.

“And then Lucy gets a hamster,” Luka growled louder. “And you almost ruin everything I have built.”

Luka snapped his teeth, and Bert wished he could sink deeper into the cage walls.

“Be careful, Bert,” Luka said, his tone as though his name were an insult. “Next time your little paws open this cage, me and my forty-two teeth will be waiting for you.”

He snapped his teeth once more before jumping down and trotting toward the stairs, disappearing from view.

Bert still shivered as he walked to the cage door, pushing it open slowly. “And so the war begins.”