Our New Psychotic Pet

Yes, I finally did it. I swore I would never ever do it. I thought I was strong enough in my convictions to resist - BUT - my kids broke me down. I said yes to a pet. Now I know Fin, our fish, who died last summer was a pet. I didn't consider him to be much work, though. I have now, however, moved into the world of scooping poop and changing a cage. I needed a pet again for this year's preschool, you see. At the pet shop, the furry things got the better of me after my kids did a whole lot of begging. So here is Bugsy, our gerbil - BUT - he isn't a normal gerbil, oh no. He managed in less than one month's time to chew his fun swirly slide to bits. There was nothing left of the slide but bright green shreds of plastic all over the cage. I knew they said he would chew things, but a thick plastic slide? What the hay? We put in other things that have been suggested and he's pulverized those, too. I honestly thought I would go upstairs and find him belly up sooner rather than later, but no such luck. I'm worried he'll find a way to chew through the metal bars and get out into the house, chewing his way out the front door. Crazy gerbil! He won't let anyone touch him to boot. They thought they were getting a cuddly little toy. I think he's bitten everyone of us. I don't the kids will be too sad when he kicks the bucket. Actually, I think they're secretly wishing he would kick it so they can talk me into something cuddlier - like a mouse! UGHHHH!

We even bought him a fancy spaceship looking home to hang out in, but he still bites us. Ungrateful little *-#@**!
The slide he's on doesn't exist anymore.
The kids were so excited about Bugsy they slept upstairs next to him the first night.
September 25th