Still Not Dogs

For me, getting another dog six months after my poodle of 17 years died would have been a little like bringing a date to my husband's funeral. Even if I'd wanted to get another dog, I wouldn't have been able to--our townhouse is rented, and they don't take dogs. We had a special provision written into the lease for Cocoa because he was so old and sick when we moved in that everyone knew he wasn't going to be with us much longer. After I introduced him to my landlord-to-be, he agreed to make an exception, but made it clear that it was for This Dog Only.

My daughter, though, has been starved for pet attention since he died. When we found those little lost dogs a few weeks ago, she wanted desperately to keep them.

Last night, she brought these guys home.




They're not dogs, for sure, but when her best friend's mouse had babies, she immediately fell for Monkey, the white mouse who is named (lucky me) for his tendency to climb anything and everything he comes in contact with--including humans. I'd just resigned myself to getting one mouse when my ever-helpful little sister told my daughter that mice were much HAPPIER in pairs. At the same time, her friend discovered that Candy Corn (presumably so named for his coloring) was a boy, and so she couldn't keep him. Ah, synchronicity. So we got two mice and roughly $60 worth of associated equipment, and I got a very itchy nose.

But she seems happy to have them: