[Moderator's note: Posted in several parts and combined here.  Bob
used his whole daily allotment for this one!  BIG]
 
Q: "I can't understand why if cats and dogs can eat kibble without
hurting their teeth, ferrets can't.  Can you answer why or why not?"
 
A: If "why" is the domain of the philosopher and theologist, then is "why
not" the sphere of the hedonist?  Since ferrets tend to have a "why not"
attitude, would they not then be the hedonists of the animal world?  And,
being the owner of supremely hedonistic ferrets, are we the epitome of
self-indulgence, or simply out for a long day of riotous litter scooping?
And why do I feel like I am listening to an 8-track tape of The Wall,
trying to explain the spiritual significance of a broken zipper to a guy
who looks like he fell off a Yellow Submarine poster and who is intently
playing with imaginary spider webs, and I'm privately wondering if
tasting the spit on the bong passed by the long-haired girl next to me
counts as a sort of French kiss?  Don't you just yearn for the days when
enlightenment could be found in the wax dripping down the sides of a
Mateus bottle, when sipping Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill wine out of a
musty leatherette bota bag was groovy, when ponchos were cool, and when
nobody liked rich republicans who lied to you in order to justify blowing
up small foreign countries?
 
Ferrets are not cats, nor are they dogs, and every vet that makes that
assumption will ultimately come to rue the decision.  It is a remarkable
thing that people can accept the huge leap that a ferret's physiology is
different enough from a cat or a dog to make elements of their vet care
unique, but still cannot make the short tippy-toe that a ferret's dietary
physiology can be subtly different as well.  It's the equivalent of
faith-based science: decide what you want to believe, find a few
references to support it, and then dogmatically and energetically combat
any critical inquiry suggesting a ferret's diet needs improvement.
 
I would like to add that my critical appraisal of ferret food is not
an effort to drive kibble makers out of business.  Far from it--using
commercial foods is perhaps the only viable dietary resource available to
most ferret owners.  My only goal is to ultimately present such a strong
argument and overwhelming evidence of kibble's shortcomings that ferret
owners will demand healthier foods made for a ferret's specific and
unique needs and kibble makers will listen and make them available.
Ferrets deserve better food, made for THEM, not for us, nor for cats or
dogs.  And while this fight for a better food is sometimes perceived by
some antagonists to be as dangerous as those looming windmills of days
gone past, the real danger is in the misguided intentions of a number of
Alonso Quijanos that populate various corners of the ferret world.  It
doesn't really matter if Don Quixote only had good intentions in his
heart; what matters is the harm done to the innocents surrounding him.
It is not enough to be able to show a food can meet a ferret's basic
nutritional requirements; it also MUST NOT DO HARM to the creature
consuming it.
 
Specific Ways Kibble Harms Teeth:
 
1. Scale is everything in the animal world.  A human can trip on a crack
in the sidewalk, fall, and break a limb, but a ferret can fall from a
person's shoulder, and just act like the invisible Dookie Monster is
after them.  The reason, extremely simplified, is in the relationships of
mass, speed, and kinetic energy.  Without making the attempt to elucidate
physics without being able to refer to twenty 8x10s with circles and
arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one that explains what it
is, lets just say that ferrets have small mass, so in a fall they have
smaller kinetic energy than big mass people.  At the height of most
shoulders, the kinetic energy produced in falling does not typically
exceed the design load of a ferret's musculoskeletal system, so ferrets
can fall proportionately fantastic distances compared to a human, only
to pop up to dook again.
 
This is important, and not just to the ferret falling off the shoulder.
The forces acting on teeth have a similar scaling effect.  To imagine
this effect in your mind, envision a lion, cat, and ferret consuming
identical kibble.  The kibble will wear away identical amounts of tooth
enamel in all three species, all other factors being equal (they aren't
really, but for the sake of argument, assume they are).  The difference
is that a lion's carnassial (the sectorial, or cutting tooth) is
extremely thick and large compared to the one in a ferret, so it can
lose a great deal of tooth enamel and dentine before the loss becomes a
problem.  Scale that piece of kibble so that it is as large to a lion's
tooth as a regular piece of kibble is to a ferret's, and the wear rate
will change, coming closer to the rate seen in our pets.  If they all
eat the same size of kibble, the wear rate will be lowest in the lions,
followed by the cats, and then the ferrets.  This allows predictability
for "kibble-wear" for any size kibble and any species of animal.  In the
case of the cat and the ferret, because the kibble size is more or less
identical, the wear rate depends on tooth size.  In other words, because
ferret teeth are smaller than cat teeth, the tooth wear rate is increased
out of proportion, even though both species are consuming the same size
of kibble.
 
2. There is another factor that needs to be considered: the relationship
of surface area to volume of the tooth.  The larger the tooth, the more
volume it has compared to surface area, which means small animals not
only have smaller teeth, but also that those teeth have proportionately
smaller volumes: they are "skinnier" or "thinner."  Simplistically,
surface area equations are generally squared, while volume equations are
generally cubed.  A tooth is a lot like a Dove bar (ice cream covered by
a hard chocolate shell) in that a thin shell of very hard enamel
surrounds a softer interior of dentine.  Because small teeth have smaller
volumes, the amount of dentine within small teeth is proportionately less
than that found in larger teeth.  This means there is less tooth material
(enamel AND dentine) to grind away in smaller teeth.  Put simply, kibble
grinds away ferret teeth at faster rates than in larger animals not
simply because their teeth are smaller, but because they have
proportionately less volume of dentine when compared to the teeth of
larger carnivores.
 
3. The direction of the crystals of enamel, called prisms, in ferret
teeth is not designed to resist the forces of chewing kibble.  Enamel
prisms are more-or-less needle-shaped (the middle is wider than the ends)
and oriented so they best resist the forces of mastication, which is diet
specific.  Generally speaking, this is along the axis of the prism, not
against it.  Think of your leg bone; jump off a three-foot wall and the
femur will not break.  Fall off the same wall and land on a stone that
places the same kinetic energy at right angles to the bone rather than
along it's length (axis), and the femur snaps.  In the ferret's teeth,
chewing stress extends from the wear facet (the part of the tooth that is
worn when eating) down and across the tooth towards the root and jawbone,
and the enamel prisms are arranged along those angled mediolateral
(side-to-side) lines of force.
 
However, when a ferret eats kibble, all bets are off.  Kibble does not
cut like meat.  When meat is compressed by opposing cutting teeth, it
compacts and severs as the teeth scissor through the tissue.  Some tissue
is dragged back and forth on the teeth, but the friction is slight and
the wear rate is low.  Of great importance to the teeth is that the
tissue compresses during eating, which imparts little impact to the
tooth, and in some cases can even act as a shock absorber to dental
tissues.  However, when kibble is eaten, it doesn't compress--it
fractures and drags across the tops of the carnassials.  Ever pick
up a piece of sanding foam?  That is exactly what kibble is like in
microscopic cross section because it is extruded under heat and pressure,
which forms numerous tiny air bubbles in the biscuit.  At the low
moisture levels of kibble (less than 10%), the biscuit is turned into
"sanding foam," and as it is dragged across the carnassials, it sands off
the top part of the tooth.  This changes the chewing stress on the tooth
from "angled mediolateral," the way it should be (from the wear facet to
the opposite lower edge of the tooth), to "dorsoventral," that is, from
the tops of the carnassials towards the roots.  Besides placing unnatural
stress on the tooth, it eventually shifts the striking platform, the part
of the tooth that is struck by the opposing one, from the side edge of
the tooth to the top--greatly dulling it.
 
As long as the enamel covering the tooth remains intact, the prisms will
tend to point towards the object being chewed, which is the direction
in which they are the strongest.  Because the rate of wear is greatly
increased, the prisms on the top of the tooth eventually yield, and the
softer dentine below is exposed.  Worse, when the enamel prisms on the
top of the teeth are gone, it only leaves the shell of enamel on the
sides of the tooth, and the enamel prisms in that area are generally
angled mediolateral.  Enamel prisms are very strong along their length,
but weak across it, so they fracture under the stress and are more easily
ground away.  This is why the rate of tooth wear increases over time; it
is slow when the top of the tooth is intact, but increases rapidly once
the top enamel is worn through, only leaving the side enamel.
 
4.  If you ever spend some time looking at the ferret's cheek teeth, you
will note that from the side they look like shark's teeth, and from the
top they look like pinking shears.  The shape of each serration in the
side view (shark tooth view) of the cheek teeth approximates a pointed or
gothic arch, one of the most stable of architectural forms.  Bite forces
are transferred from the cutting edge of the tooth, down the arch, and
into the roots and jaw of the ferret.  From the top of the tooth row,
the "pinking-shears" side approximates a pointed arch, and the opposite
side approximates a Roman arch--perhaps even more stable.  In fact, if
you really study the form of teeth, entire or in part and regardless of
species, you will see they generally fall into one of six basic types of
arches seen in both ancient and modern architecture.
 
This is because the forces of mastication are very powerful, and arches
are simple, elegant, and effectively transfer those forces down into the
roots and jaws of the animal, or are dissipated throughout the tooth,
rather in a single spot.  These tooth designs have been tweaked by
natural selection for millions upon millions of years, and are highly
specialized biomechanical structures designed to do a specific job --
to cut the flesh and bones of prey animals.  In fact, while teeth are
specific to genus and species, tooth components--the cones, arches, and
root architecture--are so effective, there has been little change in the
basic design for scores of millions of years.  The ferret's canines are
"design duplicates" of jaw teeth in the T-rex, and the design of their
cheek teeth can be found in early sharks; there is no such thing as
copyright in tooth design.
 
When a ferret cuts meat, the wear is primarily restricted to the cutting
facets.  When a ferret masticates kibble, the wear is generally confined
to the tops of the teeth.  As the tops of the teeth are worn away in
ferrets that eat kibble, the arch structure is disrupted, changing how
stress is distributed within the tooth.  This may result in faster rates
of wear, stress micro-fractures, or even catastrophic failure of the
tooth.  The stress is generally poorly conducted down worn teeth, which
could result in inflammation of the periodontal ligament that holds the
tooth in the jaw, reactive changes in the bone forming the socket, or
even ultimately the loss of the tooth.
 
5. Kibble is a hard substance, so ferrets chew it in a predictable
manner on specific teeth.  This makes tooth wear predictable.  In the top
jaw, the molar is the tooth in the very rear of the mouth; the one that
looks like it was twisted sideways (called the first maxillary molar).
When newly erupted, this tooth looks similar to a brassiere--two pointed
cones connected with a narrow waist.  In the lower jaw, the molar is a
tooth that, in side view, looks like the head of a straight pin, topped
with a very small cone (called the second mandibular molar).  On the rear
of the carnassial, or cutting tooth (called the first mandibular molar),
abutting the second molar is a short, flat area topped with a small cone.
These two cones are similar in size and shape to the cones on the upper
molar, but are turned 90 degrees from the top ones.  When the jaw closes,
the cones on the upper molar and lower teeth interlock, but do not come
into contact with one other.  They come close, but are separated by a
few millimeters.  It doesn't take a "socket scientist" to realize the
orientation and spacing of the cones converts the rear of the jaw into a
"nut cracker."  This is the part of the jaw used to break bones, crack
insect carapaces, and otherwise fracture small hard objects like snail
shells.
 
The majority of ferrets use this part of the jaw, the "cracking teeth,"
to render kibble into small enough fragments to swallow.  The problem
is, these teeth are small because they are not designed for grinding,
but rather for cracking, and so are used infrequently when consuming a
natural diet.  What happens with pet ferrets is that they tend to crack
the kibble on the back teeth until they are worn down to a point where
they become sensitive to pressure, and then the ferrets transfer the task
to the carnassials.  Even so, the cracking teeth continue to wear down,
and it is not unusual to find these teeth worn down to the roots, broken
in half, or completely lost.  These teeth are simply not structurally
designed to process a food as abrasive as kibble.
 
After transferring the bulk of the chewing to the carnassials, they also
begin to wear down and become sensitive to pressure.  At this point, the
ferret may be 4 to 6 years old, and they start using the premolars in
front of the carnassial to help masticate the kibble.  These teeth are
extremely small, and are designed for holding and ripping tissue, not
crushing abrasive biscuits.  They wear down very rapidly, and it is not
unusual to find only the tops of the roots protruding from the recessed
gums.  At this point, the carnassials are the only teeth left to do the
job, and they are used until the ferret dies.  It is not an infrequent
observation to see the carnassials ground down to just above or at the
gum level in older ferrets.
 
Specific Findings of the Study:
 
People may recall some years ago I solicited donations of ferret foods
from all over the world.  I measured the hardness, brittleness, and
abrasiveness of the foods on scientific devices designed for the purpose.
The data startled me; ALL kibbles were roughly equal in all three
qualities, and any differences could be explained by storage and handling
conditions.  I was prompted to look into the issue because I had noticed
a profound difference in tooth wear rates between kibble-eating ferrets
and those on a natural diet.  There is nothing like getting your buttocks
smacked with a 2x4 to get your attention, so I started a long-term
investigation of the connection between kibble and worn teeth.  I
couldn't ethically release my findings on the kibble until I knew what
it did to a ferret's teeth, so even though I asked for the kibble years
ago, I am only now feeling confident enough to discuss my findings in
the open.  In fact, I am now so secure in those findings that I am
willing to provide the FML with a synopsis of my conclusions.  Mind you,
I could write several dozen detailed posts explaining point by point why
my investigation is valid, but I will spare you that exercise and just
tell you what I concluded.
 
a. ALL kibbles have a combination of hardness, brittleness, and
abrasiveness that increases the rate of tooth wear between 3 to 5 times
faster than seen in pet ferrets consuming a natural diet, polecats,
black-footed ferrets, or New Zealand feral ferrets.  In practical terms,
this means a 3-year-old ferret may have as much tooth wear, or more, as
a 9 or 10-year-old ferret eating a natural diet.
 
b. The tooth wear caused by kibble is not "normal wear sped-up."  Normal
tooth wear in a ferret's carnassial is from the cutting facet towards the
opposite, lower part of the tooth (angled mediolateral).  This type of
wear is actually a self-sharpening feature of the tooth, so that even
though the tooth is worn, it maintains a sharp cutting edge.  Because
kibble is an unyielding substance, it erodes the top part of the tooth,
which shifts the angle of the cutting facet, making the edge blunter,
rounder, and more like the grinding tooth of an omnivore.
 
c. Tooth wear damage was not of a linear type that can be graphed like a
straight line.  Rather, wear rates were initially slow to a point (about
2 to 4 years of age), and then they rapidly increased.  Inspection of the
teeth provided the answer: the initial slow rate was correlated to the
time it took for the surface enamel on the top of the tooth to be worn
away, and the increase in rate occurred when the softer dentine core of
the tooth was exposed.  In practical terms, this means the teeth look
more-or-less normal for a couple of years, and then they suddenly seem to
wear away at a much faster rate.  Kibble causes an "s-curve" type of
dental wear: initially slow, it rapidly increases as the dentine is
exposed, and then slows down as the tooth is worn to the gum line.
 
d. There is zero evidence that consuming a kibble diet will keep the
teeth of ferrets clean.  In fact, the opposite was found to be true; most
ferrets consuming kibble had as much dental tartar, or more, as those
consuming a wet diet (wet cat food, chicken baby food, a/d, etc.).  Pet
ferrets consuming a natural diet, polecats, black-footed ferrets, and New
Zealand feral ferrets had very little dental tartar.  This correlation
is not hypothetical, nor is it theoretical; it is observational.  It is
simply laying the skulls on the table and counting the ones with dental
tartar, and then checking back to see which animals ate kibble and which
ate a natural diet.
 
e. The only aspect of the tooth that hard kibble actually cleans are the
parts that come into contact with the food.  In a large animal with a
broad tooth, this may result in limited cosmetic scouring of parts of the
sides of the teeth, but it results in little gumline or below gumline
cleaning--the place where cleaning is important.  In an animal with a
narrow tooth, such as the ferret, the amount of plaque removed from the
tooth by kibble is minor and mostly relegated to the biting surfaces.
 
f. I have developed a way of roughly assessing age in pet ferrets based
simply on dental wear caused by kibble.  In all ferrets, tooth wear is
greatest in the back of the jaw, where a ferret attempts to use their
tiny molars to crack the kibble.  If the wear is primarily seen on the
rear teeth, the ferret is between 1 and 3 years of age.  The wear then
progresses to the carnassials, when the ferret is between 2 and 5 years
of age.  Between 3 1/2 and 6 years of age, significant wear is seen on
the premolars.  After 6 years of age, the carnassials begin to be
significantly worn, and tooth loss, mostly molars and incisors, is
common.  From 6 to 10 years of age, the tops of what were once serrated
teeth are now flattened like the grinding teeth of small rodents.
 
g. Once I correlated dental disease and tooth wear to age at death, I
found that if a ferret had significant dental problems by 4 years of
age, the chances were 92% that they would die at about 6 years of age
(+/- 1 year).  In these ferrets, the most common reported cause of death
reported by donators were "cause of death unknown" or lymphoma, but
based on gross necropsy, nearly half clearly died from cardiac and
gastrointestinal disease.  In the relatively few instances where vets did
a necropsy, there was not a single mention of the condition of the oral
cavity, or it's possible impact on the health (or death) of the ferret.
Cardiomyopathy was the most common cardiac problem I noticed, and gastric
ulceration the most common GI problem (presumably caused by Helicobacter
infections).
 
h. These conclusions are based on more than 300 donated ferrets randomly
collected throughout the USA, and compared to more than 600 pet ferrets
consuming a natural diet, New Zealand feral ferrets, black-footed
ferrets, and polecats.  A number of the polecats, black-footed ferrets,
and New Zealand feral ferret skeletons inspected were captive animals
that consumed a kibble diet, and their dental problems approximated or
matched those of the pet ferret population.  This is clearly a problem
of diet.
 
i. The prevalence of tartar and periodontal disease in pet ferrets is
not related to consuming any one food, but to a lack of consuming whole
prey.  While dental tartar existed in animals eating whole prey, the
percentage was extremely insignificant compared to ferrets eating kibble
or cooked foods.  There was no significant difference in the prevalence
of periodontal disease in ferrets consuming kibble compared to wet,
cooked, or soft foods, although the severity of disease was higher in
ferrets only consuming kibble.  Ferrets that ate wet, cooked, or soft
foods that were also allowed to eat whole adult mice 3 to 4 times a week,
had periodontal disease at a slight-to-moderately increased rate compared
to animals consuming a whole-prey diet.
 
j. Based on all available evidence and the vast majority of reported
research, the conclusion is that a kibble diet results in significantly
increased dental wear rates and tooth destruction that negatively impacts
the oral health of the ferret, and probably negatively impacts the
ferret's overall heath.  While there has been little published research
to link dental disease to bone and other systemic infections, liver,
gallbladder, kidney, gastrointestinal, or cardiovascular disease in
ferrets, such links are commonly found across a large spectrum of
mammalian carnivores, and the probability that such links will be
found in ferrets is extremely high.  Combined with the prevalence of
periodontal disease caused by a lack of consumable whole prey and
exacerbated by kibble, there is little doubt the damage caused by a
kibble diet negatively impacts the health of nearly all American ferrets.
All that remains is to quantify that damage.
 
Final Remarks:
 
One of the most frequent questions I get regarding diet is, "Why has my
older ferret become anorexic?"  Now you know a major reason.  I just roll
my eyes when I read the hysteria on rare ferret medical disorders that
harm perhaps one or two ferrets out of a million, or even a hundred
thousand, when the number one medical problem in ferrets is undiagnosed
or misdiagnosed dental problems that affect more than 95% of the pet
ferret population (of ALL ages).  This means that if you own 10 ferrets,
the chances are extremely good that at least 9 of them will have dental
problems that I can detect in their bones and teeth.
 
Dental disease is insidious, unexpected, and extremely harmful.  For all
intents and purposes, your ferret could present as a healthy animal, yet
may be harboring an underlying infection that years down the road may
be responsible for their death.  The types of dental problems seen in
ferrets has, in numerable species ranging from mustelids to primates,
been positively linked to a host of diseases, including (but not limited
to) bone infections, systemic sepsis, cardiomyopathy and heart value
disorders, gastrointestinal disease, liver and gall bladder disease,
kidney disorders, the formation of various kidney and bladder stones,
and much, much more.  Consuming kibble is either a primary reason, or a
contributing reason for profound dental disease.
 
A major reason dental disease is so disregarded is that vets rarely
inspect a ferret's mouth unless they smell significant odor.  The main
problem with that approach is that by the time the odor is detectable,
major disease, perhaps incurable problems, already exist.  Because of
this, dental disease and associated diseases in ferrets are tremendously
under-diagnosed.  A second problem is that some veterinarians are so
arrogant that they make the assumption that only another vet can diagnose
disease in animals.  I recently publicly (and accidentally!!) humiliated
a vet with evidence and photographs after they equally publicly suggested
that as a zooarchaeologist I was incapable of diagnosing dental disease
(I did the same thing to an animal nutritionist lately, but that is
another story).  By nature and upbringing, I am not very confrontationist
(I have been called "Neo-Japanese" for my reluctance to directly say
no), as people who attended the Las Vegas symposium can testify.  When
a noted veterinarian suggested ferrets could be harmed by chewing bone,
my response suggesting otherwise was very polite, respectful, and
non-antagonistic.  I am positive my exclusion from speaking at the same
time as vets since then, even though my specialized topics of enrichment,
nutrition, and bone and dental disease are by definition health issues,
has been purely coincidental and justifiable for other reasons.
Nonetheless, it is too bad that most of the vets will not be exposed to
these findings when the majority of them will be in attendance at the
symposium.
 
I will be talking in Pasadena (March), at the Symposium in St. Louis
(April), and on the east coast (May, but I'm not sure the club has
announced it yet, so I'll hold off); there are at least three other
speaking engagements I have committed to (or soon will) this year where
I'll be discussing the same thing.  I will be talking about and showing
photographs at those speaking engagements that statistically and
graphically prove what I have discussed about dental disease in these
posts.
 
If you want to see with your own eyes that what I am saying about dental
problems is true, then attend one of these talks.  If you can't make it,
and you represent a club or other ferret organization and want me to
visit to talk about teeth (or diet, or enrichment), just drop an email
and ask.  I DO NOT ACCEPT HONORARIUMS OF ANY KIND, although because of
numerous requests, I have been forced ask for gasoline reimbursement
(with gas at $2 a gallon, I can no longer afford to donate gas and hotel
rooms and road food and time from work and other road trip expenses; you
donate the gas, and I'll donate the rest).  I will accept absolutely
every invitation to talk that I possibly can, from any city, state, or
country on the planet, from virtually any ferret or pet organization that
asks--even those with members who greatly dislike me (there are only two
"no thank-you" persons/groups on my list).  I can show you specific
data, close-up photos of teeth, scanning electron microscope photos of
microscopic tooth damage, examples of real teeth and bone; whatever you
ask for or have the capability for the group to view.  Just tell me your
needs, and I will do my best to meet them.
 
You are invited to have vets, dentists, and dental techs in the audience
to confirm--or challenge--my conclusions.  You can invite nutritionists,
even those with PhDs, to challenge me as well, if you want me to address
ferret diet, their dietary requirement for carbohydrates, or kibbles
impact on teeth (I just ask for a heads-up beforehand so I can bring the
appropriate evidence).
 
I am continuing to accept donated ferrets from trustworthy sources while
preparing a detailed paper for the veterinary literature.  It may appear
that my large sample size is overkill, and it already greatly exceeds the
size of sampled populations in most studies, but it is a type of overkill
that prevents the types of objections that simply waste time and divert
attention from problems of real concern.  For example, with large numbers
you can show the problem is not caused by a genetic fault preserved by
breeding, or water contaminants, or lack of vitamins, or caging, or vet
care, or dozens of other "possibilities" having no real validity other
than the attempt to cast doubt.  These dental problems are caused by
DIET, specifically by the hardness and abrasiveness of kibble, and a
large population will prove that without question.  I am not a vet, so
I will have to give a vet a "free ride" in authorship in order to
publish it in the vet journals; I have already been asked by several
veterinarians to prepare book chapters on this data and findings.
 
Thanks:
 
I want to thank those participants in this project who were kind enough
to donate their beloved friends.  While I was initially hoping to
discover a means to identify the bones of early domesticated ferrets, in
that effort I found some extremely significant health problems, not just
in the teeth, but also in the bones of pet ferrets.  The findings are
already making a difference: in the last six months, I have shown the
data and photos to nearly a dozen top vets.  ALL were impressed and ALL
wanted the material published as soon as possible.  When I showed the
material to a professional animal nutritionist, their first words were,
"Holy sh*t!  I never even conceived this problem."  These findings are
very important, and it could NOT have been done without the help and
generosity of dozens of ferret people.  This is going to some day
actually help ferrets, and it will be done without sacrificing a single
ferret to medical research!  I believe the worldwide ferret community
owes these selfless, anonymous people a tremendous debt -- as do I.  They
may not know who you are, but I do.  Your gifts have made and will make
MY ferret's lives better, and my gratitude is beyond measure.  Thank you.
 
Bob C  [log in to unmask]
 
The blue coated rabbit sat up with pricked ears -- "Whatever is the
matter, Cousin Benjamin?  Is it a cat?  or John Stoat Ferret?"
--Beatrix Potter.  1912  The Tale of Mr. Tod.
[Posted in FML issue 4819]