by Lara Jackson

Created on: November 24, 2009   Last Updated: November 25, 2009

When I was ten, I wanted a dog. I was obsessed. I knew every breed in the AKC, and was friends with every dog in the neighborhood. But the landlord wasn't as fond as canines as I was, and I remained dogless. Instead, I kept a variety of other pets. I'd had gerbils, guinea pigs and hamsters since I was little. Unlike my dream dog, they weren't affectionate, or particularly trainable, or really very interesting at all. They were cute, but there just wasn't much to them.

While in the pet section of the library (my favorite place to be) I ran across a book that claimed pet rats are smarter and more "dog-like" than any other rodent. I had to have one! My mother had other ideas. She found rats creepy and gross. Of course, I considered this completely unfair and prejudicial on her part. I walked two miles to the pet store and bought myself a rat, figuring my disobedience was warranted. I was saving a life, after all. Like most pet shops, especially at the time, rats weren't considered "pets" but only meals for reptiles. I plucked my little tan-and-white "Robbie" from the literal jaws of death, and walked back home with him.

It took a few days, but Robbie settled into our home and my mom settled into the idea of having him there. She still thought his tail was icky, but otherwise he was just another rodent in a house already occupied by several species.

The first time he licked my fingers, I thought Robbie just liked the taste of salt on my hands. But he began to make a regular habit of it, and it seemed an awful lot like he truly enjoyed being petted and scratched behind the ear. I found he actually wanted to be near me, too - he'd scrabble at the side of the cage wanting to get out and climb into my hands. He liked to explore, but never strayed far from me. This was completely different from my other rodent pets, who really didn't seem to give a darn about me. They liked to come out of their cages, but had no interest in being petted, never showed affection in any obvious manner, and would run away from me given half the chance.

One day I got home from school to find Robbie nowhere in sight. He'd escaped from his cage. I was horrified. A gerbil or hamster escape was always a big drama in our household. The animals were usually recovered, but only after days of waiting, and some careful stalking and quick action on my part to capture them. Worse, a few of my pets had simply never been found, their fates unknown. I was already far more attached to Robbie than any of my

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