Dear Ferret Folks-
 
Lily, the new forever weasel, will forever be known around here as
Hurricane Lily after the last mess she made.  Switch and Lily finally
worked out where they are going to sleep, despite Lily's awful snoring.
They have chosen the antique baby crib full of crotchet afghans that I
keep in the ferret room.  (Why are they afghans, and not bulgarians or
canadians, but afghans?)
 
You see, this togetherness came at a high cost.  Lily evidently decided
that the crib's mattress was not to her liking.  Was it too hard?  Too
soft?  I will never know.  There wasn't really enough of it left to test
after Lily, ah, adjusted it to her liking.  This involved one long gray
weasel digging and digging and digging at the mattress.....squatting in
the corner of the little crib like a dog.  Her front paws cycled like a
buzz saw, they were a blur.  Imagine a whirring noise.  Chunks and
compacted wads of cotton ticking flew through the air and between the
wooden bars of the crib and went everywhere.  EVERYWHERE.
 
There were hunks and fluffs of mattress entrails all over the sheets
of potty newspaper that edge the floor of the room.  Did you know that
cotton sticks to poop really well?  I am reminded of that commercial with
the song.."The touch, the feel of cotton, the fabric of our lives..."
I'll never hear that song on television again without explosive slaughter
snarking out through my nose.  This is so NOT what the American Cotton
Growers Association had in mind when they paid some marketing consultant
umpteen million bucks to put that advertisement together.
 
Not to be outdone, Switch added her own artistic statement to Lily's by
knocking over the bowl of kibble onto the floor.Switch just enjoys eating
off of the linoleum, evidently.  So now it's IMPOSSIBLE to walk across
the floor, every step crunches.  The kibble got mixed up in the cotton
slick that was slowly spreading across the room with every movement of
the air, every little gust and cats paw of wind just made it worse.
 
*Then*
 
SOME weasel also decided to burrow UNDER the potty newspaper sheets,
dragging them all over the place.  I just know it was that Lily.  I can
see her now in my mind's eye, doing that spastic war dance of hers, cart
wheeling and careening off of the walls and furniture going "Hee hee
hee!" like some giggling little hyena that thinks it's a ferret.  Switch
just cowers when Lily gets going like that, she hunkers down in a safe
place and waits until it's over.  We all do.  Then the cleanup begins.
 
Switch the Kit: "The touch, the feel, of cotton.."
Hurricane Lily "Hee-hee-hee-hee!"
[Posted in FML issue 3928]