Dear Ferret Folks-
A few weeks back we had my sister-in-law weasel-sit while we were away.
Jen likes the weasels, but has never owned any herself. She comes over
and plays with ours a lot, though, so they are all familiar with each
other. Evidently they are a bit TOO familiar.
Jen had the ladies out of the cage for a while in order to refill the
food and water. Sabrina, predictably, looked for a good sleeping spot.
Switch, however, needed to explore. She needed to explore Jennifer.
Especially Jennifer's leg inside of her pants. As high up as she could
climb.
Now, Jennifer, while being a ferret admirer, had never experienced many
of the joys of ferret ownership, including having a weasel in her pants.
They were wide-legged pants, so Switch had plenty of room to explore.
Evidently she climbed the entire length of Jennifer's leg. That's when
Jen lost it, and she began to do the pants dance.
Well, the water went one way, the food went another. Jenn went all over
the place, hippity-hop, hippity hop-hop-hop! Boing-boing-boing!
Shakey-shakey, slap-slap-slap! I'm sure Switch was in there thinking
"WOW! THIS IS SO COOL!" Jen was thinking "ARRRRGHHH! WAUUUGGGGGH!"
aaaaaaan' doin her dance just as fast and as funky as a five-foot tall
woman can!
While Jennifer is physically modest, her father was a truck driver, and
she learned many, many words from him none of which are modest, and mostly
begin with the letter 'F'. I'm sure she used some of these during the
course of her dance. Finally, she could stand it no more, and she was
driven to rip her pants from her body. You need two hands to do that,
it's very difficult to undo your pants and hop up and down in place, AND
swear like a truck driver, but she managed. And she was left with....a
pile of fabric on the floor that moved, to reveal
most of a ferret looking up at her with that desperately innocent face,
the one that says "Oh goodness, was I not supposed to do _______?" I
leave the space blank, because so many things could be appropriate there,
like 'steal the Visa Platinum card and stash it inside the recliner, strew
the 20 pound bag of potting soil over the persian carpet, poop on said
carpet, gnaw a hole through the wallboard, drive you so batty that you
rip your pants off,...you get the idea.
Alexandra in Massachusetts
Sitting with her legs folded so that no carpet sharks attack her feet
[Posted in FML issue 3787]
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