I don�t know who is stupider�me or the parakeets. Re-pete periodically falls off his perch and Bud bites the hand that feeds him but I let those bird brains into the house. They are dirty, they are noisy, and they hate people�and those are their good points.

I�d resisted requests for pets for years. I thought I�d continue resisting for decades. I�d still be resisting if my husband, Mr. Philately, hadn�t turned on me.

But, after a few months in which Kat was diagnosed with epilepsy, an entire family that we knew perished in a fire, and my husband began having heart problems, I was vulnerable. Not to the lure of pets but to a pair of very cute, very blue male eyes. Blame it on THE LOOK. I�m sure you�ve seen that look. It�s the one that says, �I�m usually in charge, baby, but today I�m vulnerable only to you.� What can I say? I went all girlie and I lost my mind. Obviously, I�ve never recovered it or those squawkers would be gone.

I�m dreading the time this summer when Kat goes away to camp. At least when she�s here there are two people who feed the birds: Kat, who is supposed to do it, and my husband, who is the designated back-up bird feeder. If there is no back-up, I�m afraid I�ll be the back-up. Yuck!

I wonder if I should rethink this pet thing. Anyone know anything about rental cats?

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