The Personul Mowse 5 The Personul Mowse Ralph’s life in the cage was never the same after the arrival of the hamster. Chum was picky about his food and fussy about his housekeeping. One corner of his cage had to be his bathroom, another his sleeping quarters, a third the storehouse for the food he liked. He was forever pushing, shoving, and stomping his cedar shavings. His exercise wheel rasped and creaked whenever he ran, usually while Ralph was trying to nap. He had a particularly irritating way of gnawing noisily at the bars of his cage. “Why do you do that?” asked Ralph. “You can’t chew through metal.” “I’m not trying to chew through the bars,” said Chum. “I’m wearing down my teeth.” Ralph was astounded. “Don’t you want teeth?” he asked, thinking how dependent he was upon his own sharp teeth. “If I don’t chew something hard, my teeth will grow so long I won’t be able to eat,” Chum explained impatiently. “I chew the bars because Lana is too stupid to give me anything hard to chew.”
