Step on no pets

We've always avoided having pets, but somehow they have squeezed in the door and invaded our peaceful home. Melinda's always been freaked out by pets because 1) They die tragically and 2) they poop. She remembers all my family's tragic pet stories better than I do.

Let's see, there is the time the fish aquarium got moved in front of a sunny window. Then the cat who slept in the engine compartment of the car to stay warm in winter. Then the skeleton of a kitten which was found in the woodpile. The time I let my pet parakeet to fly around the room without realizing there was a sleeping cat in the top bunk bed. Then there were the farm animals; the calf who ate too much alfalfa and bloated, the pregnant cow who mysteriously died, various chickens who were caught in wire fences, the peacock crossing the road and other miscellaneous cats and dogs.

I'm not worried about them dying, but I do have a few reservations about pets. 1) They poop, 2) you have to clean up after then, 3) they poop, 4) you have to make arrangements for them when you leave on vacation, 5) they poop, 6) they smell, and 7) they poop.

So we were first tricked into the pet thing when my sister-in-law Salena moved to an apartment that allowed no pets whatsoever, and she gave us her blue betta in a little fish bowl. It seemed so simple and small, but it was all downhill from there. Lisette named him "King," and she cried for days when he died a year and a half later.

Later we got a fish aquarium and had various fish and aquatic frogs that came and went. We even tried crabs, but they eventually escaped, and we found them much later, dried up under the furniture. We were even given a tadpole from some neighbors who were moving, but unfortunately, he never turned into a frog.

Then this spring, the neighbors brought over their cuddly pet duckling. Suddenly Ian desperately wanted a cuddly pet. He decided on mice, but we kept avoiding the subject and tried not to think about. Then when we could no longer say no, we let him earn money to help buy some mice.

We went to the pet store, and the little mice were so cute running around all together on the wheel. So we decided to get more than one since they are social creatures. We heard that female mice were more docile (and less stinky) but the pet store only carried males. So now we have 3 male mice: Willis (the orange one), Max (white with black spots), and Jack (mostly white). They're very cute, but 3 mice means 3 times the poop. They were all getting along quite well at first, but now it seems a pecking order has been established. Willis is the the most dominant and aggressive. Jack was his friend while Max was picked on and had to hide from the other two. I think Max was a little sick then.

However, the rodent dynamics have been changed and now Jack is the picked-on one. He now has a big cut on his back (where the other mice have bitten him). So the night before last Melinda was all worried about him. (She worries about the mice a lot) So we improvised a separate cage for him out of a wire mesh trash can.

I often find myself thinking, "How did we get into this mess?" And, "How did these creatures sneak into my life?" Funny, but that's the same thing I think about my children sometimes. But I guess I wouldn't have it any other way.