Well, she's at it again. Our daughter, Samantha, has decided she wants a pet. Now, we do have a dog. In fact, we've always had a dog or two since all the kids were born. But, she wants something of her own. This happens every now and then. A few months ago she thought she'd like to save up and buy a horse. Whenever our daughter says "I'm going to save up for..." we just smile and say "Okay, dear." We know there is no way she'll save up. She earns money through babysitting but it doesn't last long. On the plus side, she is very generous when it comes to Christmas and birthday presents, but, if there is no holiday in sight, she still finds things to buy. You've heard the old saying about money "burning a hole in your pocket?" For Samantha, that fire hits four alarms pretty fast. Not just her pocket but her entire wardrobe and even a few of her siblings' shirts are singed. "I'm going to save up my money and go see my friend in Florida!" "Okay, dear." "I'm going to save up my money and buy a laptop computer." "Okay, dear." "I'm going to save up my money and buy a monkey." "Okay, dear." Yes. This past weekend, "monkey" was one of her pet choices.

It usually starts with her innocent little comment about how clean and cute a mouse or a pet rat actually would be and how she would take complete care of the creature. Neither of those creatures will ever make it into our home...at least not by invitation. At our old house, we had a mouse that lived in the garage. Once I was walking in, carrying a load of groceries when my wife said, calmly, "Oh, there's the mouse." The toilet paper, tomato paste, pretzels, peanut butter, bread, milk, eggs, lettuce all went airborne. (You know, looking at that list makes me question the skills of the bagger. As a former bagger and box-boy, even I know to keep the canned stuff away from the bread!) Anyway, I'm neither proud nor ashamed to admit that rats and mice give me the willies. Even as a child, I mostly rooted for Tom and not Jerry...and for Donald and not Mickey. Sure, put pants, gloves and a tie on him, he's still a mouse. The only cartoon mice I really liked were the ones that they used to do a rodent version of the old Jack Benny program.

Part of my problem with mice and rats, has to do with a scene from a horror movie I saw as a kid. Vincent Price played a mad scientist named Dr. Phibes. In one scene, a man got into the cockpit of a small plane and the doors automatically locked. Then, a swarm of rodents (can you have a "swarm" of rodents?) came up over the back of the seat and devoured him. Dr. Phibes was behind this macabre act. Just writing that description has my skin crawling and I've checked behind my chair several times. Anyway, mice and rats...not going to happen.

Then, she shifted to gerbils and hamsters. For my money, they're just mice and rats with a better tailor.

Next, she thought we might go for a hermit crab. One of the boys had a hermit crab for awhile. Named Hermie. Hermie the Hermit Crab. Not exactly the most exciting pet around. Although they do tend to "stay" pretty well. However, they have an odor. No fault of their own...just the way it is. In a house with four kids, three of them active teenagers and, the other, a rambunctious 11 year old...plus a dog...we really don't lack for interesting smells. Samantha bounced from crab to salamander to gecko to fish. Part of the problem with any of those choices is that they would soon disappear somewhere in her room.

For such a sweet, pretty, well-dressed and groomed girl, Samantha's bedroom is like the aftermath of a volcano eruption. There's so much stuff all over, a chameleon would be completely exhausted or develop deep feelings of inadequacy. Her closet looks like it ate one too many sweaters and then had to "refund." Her desk is covered with snow globes, pens, pencils, paper, books, something that once was popcorn and photographs. Her nightstand looks like a junior chemistry set. If you ever need a penicillin shot, just walk through her room and the mold should do the trick. I am not going to mention her bathroom as this is a family web-site. In some ways, her room would probably be a perfect habitat for certain creatures...available food...places to hide...things with which to build a nest. Frankly, there may well be an entire civilization of creatures living under her bed. It's just too scary to look.

I know that Samantha's feelings of compassion and caring toward animals is something we should celebrate and encourage. Just not right in the same house. Especially the mice and rats. Did you just hear something behind me? Dr. Phibes? Is that you?