Jimmy was only 5 when his hamster died. He didn't understand at first. When he poked it it didn't move; when he held it in his hands he couldn't feel the familiar rapid beating of it's heart; it's body was rigid, stiff and cold. He denied it as long as he could, but it soon became clear. His hamster was dead.
"Mommy! Mommy hammy died! Fix it!"
"God Damnit Jimmy!" She immediately walked to Jimmy with an agitated gate, snatched up the hamster, walked at the same speed to the trash can and discarded the carcass. "You could have done that yourself!" The trash bag wasn't even done crinkling before she sat back down to watch American Idol.
"But Mommy, now what do I do?"
"God Damnit Jimmy!" Before Jimmy could say anything else she had walked over and placed five dollars in his hands. "Go buy a new one! You know where the pet store is!"
"But it won't be the same as Hammy was."
"Damnit Jimmy! You can just name it Hammy, treat it the same, and soon you won't notice the difference. I didn't bitch and whine when Jimmy killed himself."