I think that I am fairly brave-as things go-for an older lady.  I captured
a full grown flea infested, ear mite ridden feral cat with my bare hands
a little over 3 years ago.  I have separated two fighting cats to save my
neighbors old cat on a leash from a feral cat.  I was injured and out of
work for one week.  I have worked with a grab, twist and rip biting ferret
for almost 3 years before I have been able to stop wearing band aids at
least once a week.  He still gets excited and body pierces me.
 
I have a crusty cranky full grown 20 pound feral cat in my home.  I
captured him when he was about 6 years old, the vet says.  He was
starving to death.  He is very grateful.
 
Every day before I leave for work I hold him like a baby, beg him not to
eat a ferret, and smooch him on the side of his lips despite low guttural
growls.  I end up kissing his long dagger upper canine in addition to his
black snarling lips.  (secretly he likes this.  This gives him an
opportunity to smack me in the face.)
 
Yes-brave I am.  Yet nothing prepared me for the horror of the monster in
my home this morning.  It will be a long time before I stop playing back
the moment I realized that
 
                     I had an intruder in my home.
 
This morning, I closed the glass door after cleaning off the porch from the
evenings group of meat eaters, and after feeding fish and fowl at the pond.
I moved to pick up the metal bar in the corner of the room-and there it
was: the horror that still makes me feel physically ill.
 
How did it get in?  HOW?I mean, HHOOWWWW???
Blimey-I was shocked.
 
Being a quick thinker, a professional with multiple degrees, and having the
cool of James Bond, I reacted instantly.  I emitted high piercing sounds to
terrify the deadly cold blooded killer curled in the corner of my living
room.  I released several more deafening noises to make the strongest beast
tremble.
 
It was so stunned that it remained curled in the sunny corner where it
lay.  I thought of what the Crocodile Hunter would do, and pictured holding
this twisting venomous 2 foot monster up to my eyeball saying "Gorgeous,
Gorgeous."
 
I found myself with a burning desire to marry this man, despite his
atrocious kacky shorts.  And his wife.  No, no- I don't want to marry his
wife.
 
I remembered how he said not to pick up an unknown snake as it could be
deadly.  It was solid bright green.  Ahhhhhh- the deadly Mamba from Africa,
carried home accidentally in somebody's boxer shorts.
 
The ferrets appeared in response to my cries of terror: I mean, MY
DELIBERATE noises to instill fear.  I remembered reading that they like
to eat snakes.
 
Oh no, not snake guts hidden in my underwear drawer!.  I gathered up the
curious poopers in my arms and swept them out of harms way.  Then I
fortified myself with weapons.
 
I pulled out a small drawer and emptied it.  I Pulled out a cooking
spatula.  I raced back.
 
I scooped up one of the deadliest snakes in existence with my cooking
spatula, dumped him in my drawer, and threw everything out in the yard as
the snake lifted its upper body and arched inches from my face.  The drawer
and spatula are still there.  They will need a few days of sun to detoxify
them against toxic Mamba snake germs.
 
Yes, I am truly brave.  Armed only with a flashlight, I took my trusty
torch when I got home from work and searched through every nook and cranny.
 
The ferrets-fierce snake eaters descended from Ricki Ticki Tava- leaped all
over me as I crawled on my hands and knees from corner to corner, room to
room.  They were wild: chortling, leaping on my back, fighting, following
in a frenzy.  Blood thirsty.  Ready for action.  But the coast was clear.
No 2 foot poisonous Mamba snake guts tonight.  Darn.
 
And so the sun sets on another ferret day
In the home of the brave one and her fierce
warrior ferrets
 
Lisette
[Posted in FML issue 3203]