Will Someone Please Help Me Get A Momonga?

Up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea what a momonga was. Then, someone introduced me to the delights of the momonga, and I wondered to myself how I had managed to live for long without them. Now, having been aware of their existence for about a month, I now know that I actually cannot live without them any longer

Up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea what a momonga was. Then, someone introduced me to the delights of the momonga, and I wondered to myself how I had managed to live for long without them. Now, having been aware of their existence for about a month, I now know that I actually cannot live without them any longer, and so I'd like to appeal to anyone out there who has information, to come forward and help to get me one. I will then take him into my home and call him "Fluffy Ken."

What's that? You don't know what a momonga is either? Then allow me to play the Sir David Attenborough role and educate you. Momongas are also know as the Japanese Dwarf Flying Squirrel and, as that name coyly suggests, they live in Japan, are very small squirrels and can fly. Actually, they can't fly, but they have those arm-flaps that some marsupials have that allow them to launch from a tree-branch and drift for long distances. I like to think that as they launch themselves, it is with a cry of "MOMONGAAAAAA!" but this piece is one of education and I have no recorded proof.

Generally, though, they don't seem to do much launching - a quick Google Image search shows them generally huddling cutely on flimsy saplings, often two or three at a time, occasionally even dusted with snow, or peeking adorably about of a knothole in a tree. The same search will enable you to fully understand the preternatural cuteness of the momonga - basically, they look like someone took a squirrel, smooshed it so that it got shorter and cuddlier and rounder, gave its ears some added flop, and then drew on a set of those enormous saucer eyes that seem to be very popular in Japanese cartoon women. Indeed, a momonga basically looks like it was designed, and named, by teenage Japanese girls.

Well, I am 40 and from Wolverhampton and I WANT ONE. I want one A LOT. And the good news for me is that it is actually possible to own one as a pet, and they don't even appear to be that expensive. I found one dealership that sells them, but it is in New Jersey and frankly, it seems a little insensitive to have one posted across the Atlantic. Maybe FedEx might be an option.

Anyway, said store's website has this to say about momongas. The non-italicised portions are my own thoughtful additions to their notes:

"Flying squirrels form a deep bond with their human owner [okay, good start - PC] and enjoy spending hours climbing around or sleeping in their owners' clothing [CUTEBOMB HEAD EXPLOSION!!! - PC]. Squirrels are nocturnal but will adjust slightly to their owners and spend time awake with them [They adapt their sleeping patterns so they can cute you out! - PC]. Its large eyes, loving nature, and gliding ability make it a popular pocket pet."

Let's just take a moment to let that sink in. THEY ENJOY SPENDING HOURS SLEEPING IN YOUR CLOTHING. I think I may be about to weep. But I can hold it together long enough to inform you that momongas like to be treated with small nuts like pecans or crushed hazelnuts on which to nibble, and live to be about twelve years old. I'm not sure about how the gliding ability would manifest itself in a one-bedroom Peckham garden flat, although I do wonder if it could be trained to fetch stuff from the kitchen. All I know is this: I have seen my future and it is me, on my sofa on a Saturday night, with my onesie on (YES, I HAVE A ONESIE) and my best friend in all the world, Fluffy Ken, nestling snugly in the chest pocket. Every now and then, I pop him a pecan treat, and he looks up at me and in those great big animé eyes, there is that aforementioned deep bond radiating from his squirrel face. I tickle his little fluffy head, and then emit the series of squeaks that tells him that I'd like him to glide off and get me a corkscrew.

That's the life I want. That's the life I deserve. So if anybody, anybody at all, knows how I can get myself my momonga, my Fluffy Ken, then that's what those comments boxes down there are for. MOMONGAAAAAAAAA!

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