Think of ferrets and what do you see? A vicious, sharp-toothed, smelly animal ... or an adorable, furry pet?

If you were me you would opt for the former. If you're The Mother, well, you're likely to come over all soft and sentimental at the mention of the F word.

I have only myself to blame for this turn of events. Knowing that The Mother much prefers animals to people, which is a not altogether unreasonable view, I encourage her to watch television programmes about all creatures great and small - animals in the wild, at the vets and in the home (but not in the frying pan).

It was while watching one of these shows recently that she discovered the attractions of ferrets. She was totally smitten and lost no time in telling me about her discovery.

Ferrets, she said, were much-maligned creatures. Far from being snappy and aggressive they were friendly and affectionate and liked nothing better than having a cuddle.

"They're adorable," she told me. "They have these sweet little faces, just like kittens, and they're every bit as loyal as a cat or a dog."

I knew instinctively where we were going. It is, you see, almost six months since The Mother's pet dog died. A decent period of mourning has elapsed and now she is obviously thinking about a new companion.

But a ferret ...? Oh, why not? I thought. Nowadays people keep everything from rabbits and gerbils to toads and tarantulas as pets.

And with all the latest news about dotty pet owners being able to clone generations of their favourite Tiddles or Fido any day now, a ferret seemed positively sensible in comparison.

It was only when The Mother told me that ferret owners can get special collars and leads for taking their pet "walkies" that I had my doubts.

"You wouldn't, would you?" I asked her.

"Why not?" she replied. "Some people take their cats out on leads."

"Yes, and some people don't mind looking complete dorks but I'm not one of them," I said. "So count me out if you were thinking of asking me to join you."

Unfortunately a most disturbing picture was forming in my mind. I could quite imagine The Mother coming out of my front door with a ferret on a lead - the animal would probably be wearing a diamante collar and all my neighbours would be sniggering.

I had to dissuade her. "Look," I said, "we could always go to the RSPCA and find some poor old cat or dog that has been given the heave-ho and needs a new home."

The Mother was not to be shifted. No, she said, she was old herself and when anything happened to her she didn't want to leave me with the care and control of her four-legged friend.

"I doubt if a ferret would live as long as a dog or cat so it shouldn't outlive me," she explained.

"Okay," I said, "but promise me you won't take it out in public."

She wouldn't promise, of course. "One of the reasons I always enjoyed taking the dog for a walk was that I got to know so many nice people who stopped and talked to me," she said.

"Oh, you'll certainly meet people who'll stop and talk to you if you have a ferret on a lead," I replied.

"In fact if they're men you'll have to be very careful indeed - you know what they say about men having this irresistible urge to pop ferrets down the front of their trousers ..."

I think we could be going to the RSPCA next week.