How to Trap a Hamster

8 pages · 7 min · ages 6+

▶ Watch the read-aloud on YouTube

“He's gone.” Toby said it with his mouth full of crackers. Juniper looked at the cage. The little door was open. The wheel was still spinning. And Waffles, the class hamster, was nowhere at all. It was Juniper's weekend to look after him. On Monday morning she had to carry his cage back into class, in front of twenty-two faces and Ms. Bell. On Friday, Oscar had said, “You'll lose him in five minutes.” It had taken eleven. Juniper pulled her goggles down over her eyes and uncapped her pen. “Hamsters can carry half their dinner in their cheeks,” she said. “So we use food. Science is ready, trap is set!” Toby looked at the floor behind her. “He's behind you.” “Science does not fall for that one, Toby.”

Plan One was a classic. Juniper propped a shoebox on a pencil, put one sunflower seed underneath, and tied a string to the pencil. She hid behind the sofa and held the string. “Nobody breathe,” she whispered. Toby stopped crunching. They waited. They waited so long that Toby's foot fell asleep. Then Juniper saw a golden blur. She yanked the string. Thwack! The box dropped flat. Juniper crept over and lifted it very slowly. There was nothing under it. No seed. No hamster. “He's behind you,” said Toby. “Science,” said Juniper, “does not fall for that one.” Behind her, Waffles sat up, chewing. His cheeks were a little bit rounder.

Plan Two was huge. Juniper built the Great Cardboard Maze. She used cereal boxes, egg boxes, paper-towel tubes and every shoebox in the house. It went under the table, round the plant, and all the way across the living room. At the very end sat one sunflower seed, and a trapdoor into the cage. “Forty-seven turns,” said Juniper. “No hamster can resist a maze.” Dad came in with his coffee, took three steps into the living room, and stopped. “Where's the kitchen?” he asked. “Left, left, right, under the tube,” said Toby. Dad went left, left, right, and bumped into the plant.

Waffles did not take forty-seven turns. Waffles took three. He zoomed through a tube, hopped over a box, skipped the trapdoor, and stuffed the sunflower seed into his cheek. It took him four seconds. “He's cheating!” said Juniper. She got down on her tummy and crawled into the maze to see where he had gone. The tube was tight. The cereal box was tighter. Crunch. Juniper stopped. Her head was stuck inside a box of cornflakes. “Toby,” said the box. “Where is he?” Toby looked at the top of the box. “He's on your head.” “Science,” said the box, “does not fall for that one.” Waffles sat on top of it, cheeks bulging.

By Sunday afternoon, Juniper had a new idea. To trap a hamster, you have to think like a hamster. She put on Toby's brown bear hoodie with the little round ears. She filled her cheeks with grapes, as many as would fit. Then she crawled under the sofa and sniffed. Sniff, sniff. Mum came in and stopped. “Why,” asked Mum, “is there a very large hamster under my sofa?” Juniper looked out. Her cheeks were as round as tennis balls. “Thienth,” said Juniper, “ith weady.” Mum looked at Toby. “She's thinking like a hamster,” said Toby. Mum nodded slowly and went to make a very big cup of coffee.

Thinking like a hamster was harder than it looked. A grape fell out. Then another. They rolled under the bookcase, and a small golden paw pulled them in. By the time Juniper wriggled out, her hoodie was dusty, her cheeks were empty, and the window was dark. Tomorrow was Monday. She sat on the rug next to the empty cage and put her chin on her knees. “Twenty-two faces,” she said quietly. “And Oscar.” “He's behind you,” said Toby. Juniper did not even turn around. Then she stopped. “Toby,” she said. “Every time you said that. Was he really behind me?” Toby nodded and ate a cracker. “Every single time.”

Juniper tore a fresh page off her clipboard. Plan Four had no box, no maze and no grapes. She sat very still in the middle of the rug. She put one sunflower seed on her open hand and held it behind her back. “Toby,” she whispered, “you watch. You tell me when.” Toby put down his cracker. This was important. “Not yet,” whispered Toby. “Not yet. He's sniffing. He's thinking. Now.” Something tiny and warm climbed onto Juniper's hand. Whiskers tickled her fingers. Very, very slowly, she brought her hands round to the front. There sat Waffles, round as a tennis ball, with a sunflower seed in his paws. “Science is ready,” whispered Juniper, “and Toby is set.”

On Monday, Juniper set the cage on Ms. Bell's desk. “Welcome back, Waffles,” said Ms. Bell. “You look rounder.” Waffles emptied his cheeks onto the desk: one seed, a bit of string, a cornflake, two grapes and half of Toby's cracker. The class cheered. Oscar picked up the cage. “My turn next weekend,” he said. “I won't lose him. I'm not Juniper.” The little door swung open. Toby, who had come in to wave goodbye, looked at Oscar's shoulder. “He's behind you.” “Nice try,” said Oscar. Juniper smiled and said nothing at all. And the whole class, all twenty-two of them, shouted it together: “He's behind you!”