Christmas morning was spent with my spirit animal, a hamster

This Christmas, Trudy spent most of it alone apart from a little company from her hamster and neighbours. By Christine Manby

(Illustration by Tom Ford)

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, I arranged mouse-like piles of muesli in the hope of tempting Minky the hamster out of hiding again. I was worried that her months in the wild had been tough on her. The fleeting glimpses I’d caught of my runaway hamster since she reappeared had left me concerned that she was half-starved and suffering from mange.

There seemed to be something poetic about it, Minky’s reappearance as the year drew to a close. She was my spirit animal – perhaps all our spirit animals – limping bedraggled and bewildered towards the end of the year we’d been so sure would be better than the one before. Which of us this year will be confidently toasting a fabulous 2022?

I didn’t see Minky on Christmas Eve, but when I came downstairs on Christmas morning I was as excited to find that those little piles of muesli were all gone, as a child who sees that the carrot they left out for Rudolph has been nibbled. At least Minky wouldn’t be hungry.