My daughter and her husband recently approached me for advice on buying their first house. I readily gave them the entire benefit of my financial wisdom.

"I'm not co-signing for a damn thing," I said.

When they explained that no financial help was required, I quickly added some stuff about homeownership being an excellent investment even in these troubled times.

"We just want a dog," my daughter said. "But we can't find an apartment that will let us have the kind of dog we want."

They don't want just any dog. Not a lap yapper, ankle biter, or a mop mutt. They want a yard shark. In fact, they specifically mentioned a breed of dog I once watched pull the bumper off a Ford.

Since I know a lot more about stupid reasons for getting a dog than I do about mortgages, I gave them some fatherly advice.

I said owning a pet was a major commitment. In many respects, it was a lot more responsibility than owning a house. A house won't get bored. It won't go next door and eat the neighbor's cat, chew a sofa in half or mistake the UPS guy for a burglar.

I know these things because the first thing my wife and I did when we got married -- OK, the second thing -- was get a puppy. We stopped at a "free puppies" sign and my wife fell in love.

My thoughts on the matter were that a puppy might help forestall any maternal instinct for a baby. I was wrong, of course, as I have been about nearly everything since.

I have nothing against pet ownership provided that it's well thought out, affordable, and due consideration is afforded everyone who might come into contact with the beast.

Such is rarely the case because unlike home ownership, pet ownership is far more often based on emotion than logic. No one ever buys a house because, "Oh, you're just SO cute!"

My daughter's retort was that there are no bad dogs, only bad owners. It wasn't much of a defense because I agreed with her, especially since we were talking about her.

Everyone says they'll take care of a dog (or any pet), but it's usually someone else who ends up doing it for them. Ironically, it's nearly always someone who didn't think they should have the pet in the first place -- parents, neighbors, the police, etc.

I suggested a pre-dog test. My daughter and her husband should chainsaw their furniture, use the kitchen floor for a spittoon, empty the vacuum cleaner dust bag onto their bed, and go to the bathroom in the yard themselves.

If at the end of a month they were happy with the way things were, then they could have a dog.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com