Two for the Dough (Stephanie Plum, #2)

by Janet Evanovich

He rushed to the dish, crammed everything into his cheeks, and rushed back to his soup can, where he hunkered in butt side out, vibrating with happiness and good fortune. That’s the neat part about a hamster. It doesn’t take much to make a hamster happy.

Some people learn from books, some listen to the advice of others, some learn from mistakes.

Even before I touched the receiver the urge to scream told me it was my mother.

“Let me guess … you’re on the rag, right?” Good thing I didn’t have my gun with me, because I might have shot him.

My mother rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what he does in there. Takes the paper in with him, and we don’t see him for hours.”

My father would eat cat shit if it was salted, fried, or frosted, but it took an act of Congress to get him to eat a vegetable.