This morning, I went out to find Kitty some gerbils. We've had them before (RIP, gerbils who's names I can't remember), and Kitty would love to watch them. I surprisingly couldn't find any on craigslist or petfinder, so I went to a pet store to inquire. They didn't have any either, so I asked as to when they expected to have gerbils. Get this- the employee told me that gerbils are illegal in the state of California. What? Weird. Something about California's agricultural industry and gerbils being a crop pest. You'd of thought the staffer would have left it there, but helpful as he was, went on to say that I needed to "Vegas or an Indian Casino" to get my gerbils. Seriously? Just picture me (and Kitty) cruising bad neighborhoods looking to pick up gerbils. Asking people on the corner where to pick up gerbils and if we could score some gerbil food.
These were our gerbils:
I suppose I could get Kitty some mice to drool over, but I really like gerbils better. They are much cleaner, being dessert adapted and all, and are very industrious. When you change their bedding, they will work for hours to get it to their specifications. Toss in an empty toilet paper roll, and they will not rest until its been 100% chewed. Gerbils take their work very seriously.
I'd love to have a rat again (RIP Amy, Coco, Baby, Whimpy, and Daisy), but given that I wouldn't want it to be confined to a cage, and that Kitty tries to kill her plastic rat about 100 times a day, I suspect 'Rat LaFleur' would go down the same path as Frog LaFleur (RIP, Frog LaFleur).
Here is sweet Amy:
And Kitty drooling over Frog LaFleur and Fish LaFleur:
I like chinchillas (RIP, Dude), but they are a bit more commitment and work than I really want. Guinea pig? NO F-ing way! Those bastards are annoying as all get out and live forever (RIP Lisa, who was pretty sweet, considering her unfortunate species). Wee wee wee! FYI- In 2005, when I went to Madagascar and Ron moved to Calgary, Lisa went to live with this nice lady named Janet. She, Janet, had the cleanest house ever along with 8 guinea pigs and 3 kids. OMG.
Here is Lisa, looking all innocent and quiet:
Hamsters are another option, but I haven't had one since I was a kid and have a number of traumatic memories surrounding hamster deaths (RIP Peppermint Patty) and escapes. For some reason, I recall my grandpa George performing emergency CPR in one of my hamsters. I have no idea why. The poor hamster probably had traumatic memories, too. CPR from a huge monster and always being stuffed into clothes by a little monster.
Here I am, circa 1982 (?). Look at that poor tortured hammy!
Since there are no gerbils to be found, today Kitty will get some new paper to sit on, which is fairly exciting for her.