Condolences to those with lost, sick or angeled under-garment rustlers...
 
FERRET-PROOFING
 
Like God keeps His eye upon the sparrow,
I keep my eye upon the ferret,
For unlike the little sparrow,
I'm not sure just where he's at.
 
He knows the couch is out of bounds,
Yet invariably he goes there,
He ignores the yellow warning tape,
I've wound around it, in despair.
 
I know he likes electric cords,
He pulls them from the wall,
I've told him fifty million times,
THAT'S NOT ALLOWED AT ALL!
 
The wires are rewired now,
To shriek like fire sirens,
If he so much as puts a paw
Anywhere near their environs.
 
He treats the kitchen counter,
As a fun place on which to glide,
Though it's purposely lubricated
To make him slip and slide.
 
When I booby-trapped the cupboards,
I thought, "A-ha!  I've stopped him now!"
But fearlessly he enters,
And does not blow up, somehow.
 
Some ferret owners keep baskets
Of small toys upon the floor,
My basket's filled with hand grenades,
Which he bats 'round 'til he's bored.
 
Alternate pencils on my desktop,
On impact will explode,
He always kicks the safe ones off,
How ever does he know?
 
When I open up the door a crack,
He manages to flee,
It does no good to shut him in,
I may as well give him the key.
 
There's nothing wrong with ferret food,
It's made special, just for ferrets,
But he wants my steak and macaroni,
GET DOWN!  GET OFF MY DINNETTE!
 
Just once I'd like to wear a suit,
Not accessorized with ferret hair,
But plastic bags do not protect,
How does he get inside there?
 
I firmly speak; my voice is loud,
Sometimes I fairly SHOUT!
But, somehow his ferret dooks,
Are loud enough to drown me out.
 
I tell him time and time again,
CUT OUT THAT LOOKING CUTE!
It would help so much when I yell at him,
If he looked more like a brute.
 
His attention span is not too long,
Just long enough to drive me wild,
I'm convinced he had some lessons,
 From a clever, spoiled child.
 
I have a knife.  I have a gun,
I can even wear disguise,
But I am disarmed by his mustelid charm,
When I meet his big ferret eyes.
 
I doubt God's little sparrows,
Give Him trouble quite like mine,
But He can't hold them in His lap,
Or hug them any time.
 
Oh, I suppose it is a tradeoff,
And I do get some relief,
Like when he's curled up on the couch
Behind the yellow tape, asleep.
 
I think to master ferret control,
Is a fine, accomplished art,
I've learned I can ferret-proof my house,
But I can't ferret-proof my heart.
 
-- Author:  Todd and the Fuzzbutt Rodeo Clowns
Adapted from "Cat-Proofing" by Author Unknown
 
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[Posted in FML issue 3187]