Gerbils

It was recently brought to my attention that I have tags for both the dog and the cat but none for our three gerbils. We bought the gerbils last summer on a trip to the pet shop to research the logistics of getting a rat for my eldest son. It quickly became apparent that the space necessary for a rat was beyond our ability, but a gerbil, well that might work. This quickly escalated to three gerbils, one for each child, and despite a my insistence on a trip home to check with dad, the decision had already crystallized. And so, Argentum, Hat-trick and Bumble came to live with us. All the children adore their little pets and they are regularly taken out to be cuddled. My eldest son loves to write poetry and although Jonathan is not one of ours, apparently he was inspired by Bumble:

A radical rodent is Jonathan Gerbil

He doesn't drink water, but tea that is herbal.

Will he eat seeds and vegetables? No!

He'll eat boiled eggs and asparagus though.

He will not chew tubes made out of cardboard,

But instead smokes a pipe like a small English Lord.

In spare time he rolls not in a plastic ball,

But visits his uncle, who's six inches tall!

He has all his fur, but on top of that,

He wears a frock coat and a splendid top hat.

If you went to a pet shop, he wouldn't be there.

He lives quite comfortably near Coventry Square.

(Though you won't find him there at this time of year:

He'll be visiting his cousins in West Bedfordshire.)

And though a gerbil should sleep in a cosy little nest,

A four poster bed suits Jonathan best.