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| Yes | 62% | 118 votes | Total: 189 votes | |
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Add to FavoritesFor many years I'd had pet rats, and loved them. They are smart, personable, playful, and friendly. But after my last two females died, I disposed of their cage because it was getting to be in pretty bad shape. It was dirty and even rusty, and just too impossible to clean.
A good rat-sized cage can be pretty costly, and I didn't have a lot of money to just go out and buy another one. So for almost three years, I just had to go without any more rats. However, I did have a mesh cage that would fit a mouse or two just perfectly. But did I really want a mouse? I'd heard that they weren't the best pets. Not bad or anything, just "blah".
But a mouse was in my opinion better than no pet at all, since I lived in an apartment that didn't allow dogs or cats. Caged critters had the OK, so I decided I'd take a chance on a mouse.
When I went to a local pet store, I was hoping I'd at least find a pretty colored mouse; perhaps one with two different colors in its coat. I'd seen some so-called 'fancy mice' with very beautiful colors and patterns before, and would've liked to have had one of those. But I was disappointed when all this store had were a whole lot of feeder mice, and in only two colors: white albino, and brown.
Feeder mice, in case you don't know, are ones bred not necessarily for pets, but to feed to snakes. That's not to say they are any different in temperament, just that they aren't as desirable as pets.
I'd even asked the clerk if mice were good pets. "Oh, they're okay", he sighed, not very convincingly, "But rats are better!" Well, I already guessed that, thank you.
Regardless, I was here to get a mouse, so I'd pick one out anyway. I'd also pick another one as a companion, because they are supposed to be social animals. So I chose two females, a brown and a white. The brown one was the main mouse, if you will. She had a prettier face than her white "sister", and although I hate to say it, was my favorite.
I had to think up names for these critters I'd just brought home. It took awhile, but the brown one had a very perky expression and sparkly little eyes, so her name became 'Perky Girl'. Sad to say, I just couldn't come up with anything fitting or creative for the albino, so she was simply called 'White Mouse'.
White Mouse was a ditz. She seemed to have absolutely no knowledge of anything that wasn't right in front of her nose. Whenever I held her, she'd spend all her time trying to push and dig her way through my fingers to get to the other side of them. When she did and found nothing there, she would go back and start it all over again. She was dumb, but she was happy.
Just because White Mouse wasn't my favorite didn't mean I ignored or neglected her. She got to play and interact (if you could call it that) with me as much as Perky Girl did. But she wasn't really what I would call a pet. She was just...there.
Perky Girl, on the other hand, was different. She was very, very aware of her surroundings. She also never had any fear of me, even at the beginning when she was a baby. White Mouse had to be conditioned to being handled and had been quite frightened of it at first.
Perky loved to be held. I mean, loved it! I would let both mice play in the bathtub (no water of course) inside of cardboard tubes and other such toys. White Mouse would skitter and run around through the tubes, and so would Perky. But then, after a few minutes, Perky would literally beg to be picked up and held! She would see me leaning over the edge of the tub, watching her- and would run over to where I was, stand on her hind legs and look me right in the eye. I'd lower my hand into the bottom of the tub, and she'd run to it and hop in. Then I'd bring her up to my face and blow warm air on her fur for a minute or two, then place her back in the tub, where she'd play again for a minute or two, then repeat. White Mouse did nothing of this sort. I don't even know if she knew I was there.
Perky also loved my mother. She is in her seventies, and disabled, so I'm living with and caring for her at home. If we were in the living room with me holding the mice and Mom spoke, especially to Perky, she would first turn her head and look in Mom's direction. Then she would start leaning toward her! Mom would put her arm out, like a bridge, and Perky would go running across it and onto her shoulder and go to sleep.
Mom jokingly referred to herself as 'Gramma', and Perky Girl actually picked up on that. It got to the point where neither one of us could say "gramma" while I was holding Perky without her leaning toward Mom, wanting to go to her!
Then there were the holes. I had cut some round holes in the mice's play tubes in the tub, so they could stick their heads or crawl through them while playing. But when I put some plain old uncut tubes inside their cage to sleep and hide in, Perky decided that this wouldn't do. She carefully chewed a perfect hole, exactly matching the ones I made in size, shape, and placement, into every single tube or box I gave them from then on! I call that pretty darn smart for a creature whose head is about the size of my thumbnail!
White Mouse died pretty suddenly, and without much warning, about a year and four months after I got her. I was afraid that Perky would grieve and perhaps die too; I'd heard of that happening with animals who lost a companion. But Perky seemed to be unfazed by White Mouse's absence and even seemed to relish her 'alone time' with me, without having to compete with White Mouse.
Almost everything I've read about pet mice says they rarely live more than two years. Most don't even make it that long- their average lifespan is only a year and a half. I have had Perky Girl now for almost exactly three years! She is very frail, much slower, at least partially deaf, and has permanent kinks in her tail. Her back legs don't work so well anymore. Her once plush, ultra-soft fur is thinning in several places, including on top of her head. She looks like a very bedraggled wild mouse that a cat caught and dragged in.
Even so, she is still my Perky Girl. She doesn't seem to be in pain or discomfort. She still gets that sparkle in her eyes, once she wakes up enough. She still absolutely loves to be held. She will even climb up my hand when I put it down into her cage to get her. She enjoys having her ears rubbed, and licks my hand with pleasure.
I have now also gotten two rats. They are great pets, as usual. I love those two rascally boys to pieces. But that hasn't even begun to diminish my love for the tiny, adorable little mouse I call Perky Girl.
So do mice make good pets? On average, I can't say. But Perky Girl has made a far better pet than I ever dreamed she could. And I wouldn't hesitate to have mice in the future after being blessed by this tiny little bundle of love!
Learn more about this author, Laureen Manera.
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No
If by pet, you mean, cheap and easy to care for, then yes mice are good pets. Mice seem to have all of the ingredients they're inexpensive little balls of fluff that can be left unsupervised when you go on a trip. They're much less hassle than dogs or cats, and certainly don't take out their emotions on you bar the occasional nip on the finger if you're unwise enough to test whether or not their tails come off. However, there's something missing.
ALWAYS ON THE GO
Mice are a pet that you can't really pet. You can hold them, and watch their cute little pink noses vibrate 17 times before you blink your eyes. You can watch them run frantically on their tiny exercise wheels and have uncomfortable flashbacks to yourself being at work. You can take them out of the cage and have them scrabble in your hair and raise gooseflesh on your arms. But since they never sit still, except when bathing themselves (which is uber-cool to see), you can't exactly cuddle with them on the couch. Well, you could, but then you get to play Catch-the-Mousie-By- Feigning-Sleep-in-Th e-Living-Room and hoping your mother doesn't catch on.
VISITORS BEWARE
Most visitors don't object to cats, dogs, even potbellied pigs because they can be put out-of-doors. However, having Aunt Susan scream the house down (because you innocently put your pet in your hair and she thinks you are growing a tail) is a reality. Mice would be perfect pets if you only had male visitors, but that's not always possible.
ODORIFEROUS
Unless you follow directions and change their cedar shavings every week, an open wire cage with a mouse in it can spread odor faster than a Glade freshener or Partylite candle. Now, it is an improvement on the kitty litterbox, which must be changed every day for sanity, you can't put the cage outside either. Otherwise, the unstated purpose of your pet is to feed your other pets. You can put the mouse inside of a small fenced area and watch it rummage in the grass, if you watch it like a hawk and keep one eye on your slavering cat. But even so, smelliness and rodents go hand in hand, and sometimes the smaller mice can turn Houdini, and squeeze themselves between the bars of their cage and escape, or gnaw their way out of the clear plastic cages. Then you get a different problem.
ATTRACTIVE TO WILDLIFE
Forget Tom and Jerry cartoons, or the Cinderella chase scenes. Just picture this you're in a hurry for your plane flight, so you forget to put the towel over Stuart Little's cage. All of a sudden, with one foot out the door and an ear to your cell phone, you hear a cat snarl, a high-pitched squeak and something crash. If Fluffy doesn't have a tail hanging out of her mouth and a guiltily defiant look on her face in the corner, then you have another problem.
FAST BREEDERS
If the escapee is pregnant, it might be cute to hear rustling and squeaking when you want to fall asleep on the sofa for a few months. Until you get up one morning and, not only are there tiny dark pellets littering your cupboards, but every cereal and snack item that you especially love will have nibble marks on the boxes. A mouse can be ready for pregnancy by the time she's 4-6 weeks old, she goes into heat every 5 days, and the litter can pop out within 21 days and there are no inbreeding rules for mice. So within six weeks, unless Fluffy is quite the mouser, your former pet can be frolicking across your cupboards with a group of 6 other friends in a matter of months.
So, curl up with a good book near Fido and Fluffy, and let Mrs. Frisby live free in the field as nature intended.
Learn more about this author, Linda Reyburn.
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