Something scary has happened at my house in the past week. I awakened from a fog of post-op anesthesia and prescription pain pills to find that I was the proud new owner of not one, but two, pets. I've happily had a pet-free household my entire married life.

After having three babies in four years, I feel like I've picked up enough poop to last a lifetime. Jjust this week, my 17-month-old pooped in the bathtub and on my foot.

Getting to the pediatrician with one sick kid and two well children is challenging enough. Heck, getting one child to poop in her diaper instead of the floor or the bathtub is difficult in this house. I have no desire to drag all of my kids and any sort of animal to the vet's office.

On top of my laziness as a herder of children and animals alike, we must also consider my children, and their history with other people's pets. Emma killed our best friend's beta fish within five minutes of their first meeting. (RIP Blitzen Powers.)

And all of the neighborhood animals in Mount Pleasant, S.C., ran barking and screeching with terror whenever they saw Aubrey coming, curls bouncing, and hands outstretched just waiting to "play" with them.

So it's not just my selfishness that is keeping my children from knowing the love of a pet, but my concern for the wellbeing of all living things.

Our next door neighbors recently moved and left behind a male cat, Jevan Snead, named by the boys next door in honor of one of their favorite football players. They've come to try to retrieve him, but it seems that Jevan has made himself at home at La Casa de O'Bryant.

But as we know, I have a house full of girls and while they were thrilled beyond belief when I reluctantly agreed Jevan could stay, they immediately decided he needed a new name.

Finding a compromise between my 5-year-old and 4-year-old was challenging, but they finally agreed on Jevan-Samantha-Jennifer-Alexis-Hayley.

It's a mouthful, but as long as you have food in your hand she, I mean, he, comes when you call him.

But I said we had two pets, didn't I? What's the perfect companion pet for an obstinate gender-bending cat, a mother who can't lift anything heavier than 20 pounds and children whom animals have nightmares about? A baby bird. A baby bird who must be hand-fed, and protected from said cat.

My mother was here all week, doing the heavy lifting for me, and she designed an intricate system of lean-tos from shoebox lids to keep the cat away from our rescued bird, but at some point this week, the bird disappeared. Never to be seen or heard from again.

I have my suspicions about what happened to our nameless bird, and this weekend I saw karma at work right before my very eyes. My husband taught Aubrey, my 5-year-old, how to shoot a BB gun. You've been warned, Jevan-Samantha-Jennifer-Alexis-Hayley-Snead. I hope you've still got 9 lives. You're going to need them if you're staying here.

Robin O'Bryant is a former Mount Pleasant resident and mother of three. Read her blog online at www.robinschicks.com or e-mail her, robinschicks@gmail.com.