RATATOUILLE, Disney's latest animation blockbuster, has been getting rave reviews.

Personally, although there was much to admire, and it was an absolute treat to look at, I found the film hard to swallow. The very thought of rats (even the hero, Remy, a sort of Gordon Ramsay of the rodent world, only with a wider vocabulary), swarming all over a kitchen made me feel a bit squeamish.

It would seem, though, the younger generation has no such qualms.

From being a hated pest, the rat is now the most popular pet of the year, thanks entirely to the film.

Pet shops have been inundated, and sales of rats soared by over 50 per cent during the recent half-term break. Is this an entirely good thing, I wonder?

Remember how the Harry Potter phenomenon led to an upsurge in the sale of owls? And how children, instead of cooing over cuddly Hedwig-alikes, were instead soon keen to offload birds of prey that were never remotely suited to their new-found and ill-starred pet status?

The same with rats. The novelty of owning a long-tailed, sharp-toothed animal that gives even vermin a bad name will be, I reckon, equally short-lived.

It's all a far cry from my youth, when Dumbo was the big Disney movie. Did we pester our parents for cute baby elephants with freakishly large ears? Did we heck! And when Jaws was all the rage, how many suburban bathrooms harboured man-eating sharks? Not many, I'll wager.

It's different these days, of course, when children are indulged beyond previously acceptable limits.

Our own domestic menagerie has rarely extended to more than a couple of rabbits and a few goldfish. Probably the most exotic pet we've ever had was a stick insect, not the most exciting creature I've ever encountered.

I'll admit I'm probably out of step in a nation of animal lovers, but I've never really seen much point in keeping pets. They say that we're never more than a few feet from a rat - so why not adopt instead?