Now this could haunt my dreams:
We've been entrusted with the care of Ruby for a couple of weeks. She may look like a rabbit but behaves more like a Sphinx, her silent inscrutability causing me to project all manner of implacable menace into her unblinking gaze. Dogs and cats, you know where you are with them. Not Ruby.
While it seems like every chapter book now contains, like the Obligatory Sex Scene of every 1970s adult potboiler, a de rigueur Escape of the Class Pet, the care of caged beasts were not a part of my elementary education. I can't imagine being able to concentrate on the SRA box with something like this staring at me all day long.
(Photos by Richard, a braver man than I.)