While bringing home a brand-new kitty or pup is always joyous, the task of finding one usually requires grim trips through various shelters, in which brown and green eyes beckon, "Buy me or I die" from behind steel bars. Of course, the animals at the city's shelter and the SPCA are worthy of saving, but buying a pet there simply opens up a cell for yet another death row inmate. That's why Operation Kindness is the best alternative. It is a "no-kill" shelter, which means that its animals are safe, and, for every one that is bought, a new safe space is open for some other unlikely fella. But the best attribute of this nonprofit shelter is its management: A team of volunteers and employees follows strict policies in handling the animals and, more important, their future owners. Don't be surprised if you go there, only to be turned away because a background check revealed that your landlord doesn't allow cats.

Open to the public, this enthusiastic group of mystery readers gathers on the third Sunday of each month (3 p.m. to 5 p.m.) to explore every creepy nook and cranny of the mystery genre. There are visiting authors, book reviewers, collectors, forensic experts and literary agents who drop in to share their expertise and love for a good mystery. The group has been gathering for 10 years and doesn't appear to be anywhere near running out of whodunits to discuss. Admission is free.

They come in more sizes, colors and hairstyles than your average Deep Ellum clubber. Some even sleep in their own custom-designed, hand-woven silk hammocks. Plus, you can teach them to fetch crickets--available by request.

Skip the chains and find something unique for your young'un. They have both educational and the just-plain-fun variety of playthings at the museum's colorful store. If you take the tykes, you'll have to steer them clear of the fine blown glass and objets d'art. But you might even inject a little culture into their pea-sized brains at the same time as supplying their expensive toy habits. And isn't that nicer than Barbieland or Gameboy speak?

It may not have all the amenities of the Big Bs (Borders and Barnes & Noble), but if you parents can defer your double espresso cravings until you get to Starbucks, there's a little shop around the corner that can service your children's literary needs without the faux community atmosphere of one of the book chains. The shop's mom and pop, Jennifer and Will Anglin, know their merchandise, promote local kid writers and entertainers and do much in-store programming such as puppet shows, kid camps and author visits. Although it is truly "of the community"--Lakewood--its stellar reputation has spread throughout the city.

Chain stores are a lot like chain-smoking. They are as addictive as hell. That's why it's great to celebrate an independently owned establishment that has found success and is not the Gap. Carrying tried-and-true clothing lines like Flapdoodles as well as funky, pint-sized versions of clothes mom and dad wear, this North Dallas business does amazing business with its end-of-the-season sales, which reduce the price of its merchandise by as much as 75 percent. Its partner store--The Biz--has found a niche in pre-teen girls, those Britney Spears wannabes who must look cool but lack the body mass to fit into grown-up sizes.

What makes this Preston Center location a veritable institution for children's walking wear are soft-sell salespeople, a snazzy selection and all the lollipops you can grab as a reward for good behavior. That's your kid's, not yours. A small play area with toys and TV can entertain those extra children who have been momentarily put on hold. Or plan for a kid haircut with Ginger et al., before or after the actual shopping. Be prepared to wait on weekends and back-to-school days.

Let's say little Junior just won't sit still for that pricey photo session you've arranged with Gittings. Let's say you decide to give it one more try and you drop into Kiddie Kandids, where walk-ins are always welcome. Junior is wowed into stillness by one of their many backdrops and props--an oversized flowerpot, a neighborhood fence and a bevy of beach balls. And the photographer begins clicking away, not on some large format camera that will require negatives and contact sheets. But on a digital camera, which flashes its photos on a large computer screen so you can select the first one that works before little Junior breaks down with his third tantrum since breakfast. There is no sitting fee, and in only an hour you have a quality portrait, a gift for any occasion. Now if you can only figure out what the hell to do with little Junior the rest of the day.

Imagine being a child again, only with money of your own. No more allowance; no more begging Mom for a dollar. No more promising to go to bed on time, do the dishes, take out the trash...Now just whip out the credit card and start filling your adult-sized arms with everything you wanted as a child. Froggie's 5 & 10 has super bouncing rubber balls, yo-yos, gliders, finger puppets, funky keychains, glow-in-the-dark stars and toothpick-dispensing birds. It also fills the needs of grown-up pranksters with hand buzzers and whoopee cushions and collectors of classic TV items with bobbing-head dolls, metal lunch boxes, T-shirts, cookie jars and mouse pads. And you can eat yourself sick with wax candy lips, Nik-L-Nips (wax soda bottles filled with fruity liquid), Necco wafers and candy bracelets, necklaces and cigarettes. There are also racks and baskets full of Pez dispensers. Froggie's counterpart, Tadpoles, has books, games and toys to suit first-time kids, too.

We've had plenty of arguments about whether or not Zeus is the best comics store in town, and we still think if you've never read a comic book before or haven't since you were a kid, this is the best place to start. Owner Richard Neal and the staff don't sit around engaging in impenetrable fanboy discussions, like who was the better Green Lantern: Hal Jordan or Kyle Rayner? (Dude, Hal Jordan. Come on.) They might have an opinion, but they know the Marvel zombies and fans of their Distinguished Competition will come in anyway, so it's best to cater to the people who've never stepped inside a comics store. Maybe the people who just saw Ghost World at the Inwood and want to read the Daniel Clowes comic it was based on, or the people who saw the yanked Spider-Man trailer and want to read about the wall-crawling superhero they forgot they loved as a kid. Part of catering to that audience means stocking their store with bright and shiny baubles that remind you of being a kid, sometimes literally. Not only does Zeus traffic in new action figures--which have more points of articulation than most humans--they also have plenty of the original toys you remember from childhood. An old Aquaman doll? Got it. Ronald McDonald, the Hamburglar, Mayor McCheese and the rest of the McDonaldland gang? Got those, too. It's like going on eBay without having to outbid someone. They've got it all, new and old, from comic book to Star Wars characters to WWF superstars to an entire wall of Barbie dolls for the ladies. If you want it, they probably have it. And on the slim chance they don't, Neal probably remembers it and will reminisce with you as a consolation prize. Come for the toys, stay for the comics. You'll be glad you did.