Sunny Rhino Mudd was once so small that one could not even tell he was in
the ferret sleep sack I frequently wear around my neck when I am at home.
I kid you not.  The sack looked empty.  Even the doc did not think that
Sunny was going to survive.  Now he has metamorphosed into the bull dog
faced, heavy muscled, thick necked alpha animal of the house, who even has
the feral cat jumping out of his way.
 
Sunny began the day digging through the garbage receptacles.  First I see
a wide butt sticking over the top of the garbage container.  Then, this
disappears, and great rustlings can be traced to said garbage.  Two
Twizzler sticks evolve out of the waste products of my life this morning.
I think now that I have been throwing out the same two Twizzlers for weeks.
 
Frequently, the garbage is overturned for the inspection of all.  Or I
might find Sunny and Lovely bathing on top of a sea of soiled paper towels.
 
As I watched Sunny unbalance a litter laden container and proceed to spill
it on my floor, I call out:"That's Strike One, buddy."
 
I was wrong about the large plastic bowl.  LARgest plastic bowl I ever saw.
I had filled it to the top with cold water and ice cubes for all to drink
from.  Sunny WAS able to slosh it clear across the kitchen floor-as he does
with the smaller water containers.  "Strike Two," I laughed.
 
I locked the rascal in his cage with two others before leaving for work
this morning, and then picked up my purse, lunch, briefcase, and a bag of
poopy papers.  I opened up the door and saw a brown body rush past me.
Dropping everything, I lunged for the culprit.  You know that I was lucky
to see him, let alone catch him.  It was Sunny Rhino Mudd.  How could this
be possible?  Fears of senility set in again.  Luckily, I will forget them
by the morrow.AHHHH-- Sunny had just uncovered the mystery of the locked
cage!!!!!!  I cannot lock him in his cage anymore??!!!!!  "Strike Three,"
I sighed.
 
Three strikes and you are out??
Is Sunny ready for the Big League now??
 
But NO--he is NOT out.  I caught him on the fly.  And he is grounded.
The umpire has spoken.
 
Lisette
[Posted in FML issue 3317]