Mindy...when I lose it totally and buy a chinchilla, I promise not to give my husband your name!
It was the life span that totally hooked me. I vividly remember the very first "rodent" pet. My very small children fell in love with hamsters. I stood behind them, my heart in my shoes, the only thought in my head "well, I'd better get the 'death' speech ready." They got the hamsters...and I developed one helluva "death speech." Rodents are alarmingly short lived.
We've had them all: hamseters, mice, guinea pigs and my personal favorites, the rats. Those made great pets. Oh, yes...and the rabbits, of course. (My only rule was "no live food!" so that pretty much left the field wide open. My husband's rule was "NO WAY ARE YOU GETTING A TARANTULA!" delivered at high volume.) We were such a pet oriented household that my husband worried we were running out of cemetary space. (The dogs and cats were cremated, the ashes kept in matching cedar boxes with brass locks.)
Part of the "you gave them a great life; they could have been purchased by someone who abused them, but..." speech was "they're now up in heaven with Grandma." That comforted the children and amused the hell out of me. I think my mother could probably handle the cats and the dogs...but she's going to be pissed for all eternity about the rodents and the chickens. I also told my children that escapee balloons went up to Grandma in heaven.
My mother *hated* balloons. If there is such a place as heaven, somewhere there is one outraged short woman with a tree full of balloons and a wierd farm.
I'm *really* going to hear it over the hermit crab.