Sorry, Arial

My kids have never struck me as the type to have invisible friends. I've been right in that assessment until recently, when my youngest daughter, Emma, ventured up to my side with her invisible poodle Arial.

Apparently, Arial was quite a handful, invisible or not, as Emma pulled at her leash, finger wagging, "Bad Arial, bad girl!"

When Arial got to settling down Emma promptly presented her to me, inviting me to pet the mischievous dog, which I did, until I was savagely bitten. Of course, this was nothing more than mommy having a little fun, but the scene of the invisible Arial pulling viciously at my arm was a little more than my eldest daughter, Brianne, could stand. She hadn't been very accommodating of the whole "invisible pet" situation to begin with, and was really aggravated by the scene of the dog going after her mother. Brianne promptly went into an absolutely hysterical fit that Arial, "Isn't real, mommy, isn't real!"

I did Arial quite the injustice with that display as the poor poodle was banished to the basement for the remainder of the evening, Em wagging her finger in constant disapproval and filling in Arial's regret with a few punchy barks.

After a while I couldn't help feeling a tad bit guilty over Arial's quick displacement and offered up an apology. I didn't mean to turn the fluff into Cujo but Brianne wasn't about to hear a word of this, she wanted no return of Arial. And being quite the con-artist convinced her sister to eradicate the house of the invisible pet completely. In fact, Brianne's convincing was just so, well, convincing; that invisible poodle Arial was so unwanted and unneeded, that upon my continued inquire to Emma over Arial's whereabouts I was told flat-out that Arial was dead!

Ouch.

I was a little put off that the girls could find no other possible outcome for poor Arial, like she ran away, went to another loving owner, or joined a den of invisible wolves. No, my munchkins list the invisible pooch as dead!