Whether you are Jewish, Christian or worship the Loch Ness monster, the worst present you can receive for the holidays is something alive. I’m not talking about plants, they are fine; just give them some sunlight and water and they will practically take care of themselves.

What happens, however, when you reach for that little box with holes and discover a bundle of fuzzy joy inside just for you? Your reaction might be to smile and squeal with delight, or to throw it out the window; either way you are now a parent, whether you like it or not. You did not even have the chance to go through pregnancy to get used to the idea.

The first day or so, you might find your new hamster enjoyable, but soon you have to go to the pet store and buy a cage, pellets, woodchips, a water bottle, one of those squeaky wheels… and soon, the bill racks up. Before you know it, your hamster will be living better than you, and not paying rent.

Perhaps you were smart enough at the time you received the hamster to eagerly push it back into your friend’s hands, but, most likely, you did not have the heart to do it. You did’t even have the chance to discreetly return it because, unlike books or DVDs, pets do not come with receipts. It’s regrettable that Freddy the hamster did not come with a birth certificate or something, so that you could pass him off to your six-year-old neighbor. Nowadays pedigrees are required not only for dogs, but also three-inch long rodents covered in fluff.

If you try taking the hamster back to the pet store, they might put up their hands and claim it wasn’t one of theirs, that it has diseases, or isn’t “purebred” enough for the store. They oust you from their establishment while you try to convince them that Freddy really is a nice hamster, you just were not ready for the commitment.

Resigned, you slump down on your bed and dream of rodents attacking your house. In the morning you find that Freddy has made a nest in your underwear drawer, since you forgot to close the cage last night. You discover later that he has chewed a hole thorough your favorite pair of socks.

On New Year’s Eve you are forced to stay home and “baby-sit” your hamster, just to make sure he doesn’t find a way out of his padlocked cage. You watch the New Year’s celebration in New York on TV with Freddy right beside you. When it comes for the midnight kiss you turn to Freddy, and see his little beady eyes staring back at you. Just when you start to wonder what he’s thinking, the ball drops and an eruption of cheering comes from the speakers. You are snapped out of your daze and realize that if you don’t get rid of him soon, you might start feeling you are stuck in the land of giants, and have a sudden urge to run on Freddy’s wheel.

Inspired by the National Anthem, you vow, with Freddy as your witness, to uphold “the land of the free and home of the brave.” You hope that you are being brave rather than stupid, as you carry Freddy outside and clip off the locks to which you threw away the keys. If Freddy wants to be free, he can be free, you think, and then plop him into the grass. Run, Freddy, run! He races across the grass and into the bushes. You think it is the last you will ever see of Freddy and decide to say something sentimental. You duck back inside to catch the New Year’s band concert and are surprised to see Freddy sitting on the couch looking up at you.

Exhausted, you give Freddy your ruined pair of socks and let him curl up on the cushion next to you. Perhaps he might not be so bad after all. You grow sarcastically optimistic as you think that plants are actually rather dull, and cannot run around your house and chew up your clothes. All the interaction you have with plants is watering them and making sure they get enough sunlight. The only downside is that you will think twice about opening anything with holes in it next year.