Is this a dog? My sister thinks it is. Nevermind that it weighs less than my plate at dinner last night. Nevermind that it doesn't bark, it squeaks. I present Maggie May, a gerbil on a string. Have to say, though, as cute as this thing is, gerbils on strings may be the next big thing. Like the pet rock I had in fifth grade.
Or the marble I named Glory because it was red, white and blue. Glory and I went to the mall all day one Saturday. I walked around, nudging Glory with my toe and having a lovely time. Until Glory rolled under the ice cream cooler at Baskin Robin. Yeah, I was heartbroken. Maybe if my mother had let us keep pets I wouldn't have needed to develop bizarre anthropomorphic relationships. Or maybe, as I am often told, I am just weird and have too vivid an imagination.