The one thing I always wanted was a dog. Every so often, I would beg and beg and beg my dad to let us get a dog. I would plan my approach, make sure he was in a good mood, be extra helpful around the house, finally work up the courage, and in my tiny little voice I would ask:

"Dad, can we get a dog?"

"No, April. I've told you this before."

This would hurt my feelings so bad. I just couldn't understand. Dogs were great. Why couldn't he see that?

Recognizing that he had hurt my feelings, he would try to make up for it by telling my I could get some other kind of pet.

My second favorite of the tiny critters I grew up with was my gerbil. She was grey with a white spot on top of her head. I named her Penny from the Disney movie "The Rescuers".

At eight years old, I had the patience and determination to earn Penny's trust, and soon, we were fast friends. As soon as I got home from school, I would get her out of her cage, put her on my shoulder, and together, we would go on great adventures throughout the house.

One day, Penny and I walked into the living room and my dad was napping on the couch.

Now, I'm not sure why I thought this was a good idea, I looked at my gerbil. Then, glanced down at my dad's chest. Then, I looked back at Penny, and thought, Let's wake Dad up! He'll think it's great!

So, I held Penny over my sleeping dad, and gently plopped Penny down.

My dad woke up to Penny staring him in the face. His eyes got as big as saucers, and then it happened.

In what seemed like slow motion, my dad yelled and jumped all at the same time and sent Penny flying across the room.

Horrified I rescued Penny from the floor, held her closely with both hands, and as I was storming back to my room, I looked back at my dad with a look that said, "How COULD you?!"

After that day, our adventures were much quieter. We read books.

See, if Dad had just let us have a dog, he wouldn't have been scared by a little gerbil. Am I right?