Hmmm... what's the worst I've ever been bitten?  The dubious honor goes
to Ringo.  Sweet (well, now...) Ringo came from the now defunct Cloud
Nine Shelter.  He had a biting problem and I think had been there for a
while as they tried to rehabilitate him.  My girl Tasrat had died some
time before and I was looking to add to the family again.  I took my
fuzzies and packed off to meet Judy to see who fit best into the pack.
My boy Joe took immediately to the big fat Ringo as he waddled around.
They played and played and played- two big ol' chunky fuzzbutts!
(Jeffry, another shelter kid, was busy at this time kissing up to my girl
Miesa.  He luved, luved Miss Miesa- did 'til the day he died.  That's how
I ended up taking TWO fuzzies home that day instead of one.  How can you
resist fuzzie love and ferret math?) Any way... I decided to pick Ringo
up to check him out.  I did and he promptly chomped down on my hand.
Bone grinding compression bite (I don't know how they do it, but it seems
sometimes they can crush bones without drawing blood!) It was one of
those that brings tears to your eyes.  I tried to gently scruff him and
get him to yawn.  Nothing doing.  Ended up that I had to pry his little
teeth off.  When I finally got him off, he just sat there smugly lipping
his chops.  Taught me, didn't he?  Little stinker.
 
Well, home he went anyway.  After a week or so, he and Jeffry settled in
nicely into the pack.  Slowly, but surely, Ringo gave up his biting ways.
Soon he was my biggest luvbucket.  Off all the weasels he's the only one
that will sit still for a cuddle.  He even for a while would climb up
into my bed to sleep at night.  Nothing like a little fuzzie furnace to
keep you warm on a cold winter's night!
 
Ringo is almost 8 years old now.  He's had adrenal and insulinoma surgery
and has been on dexamethasone for well over a year now.  I almost lost
him last summer, but he rallied and hung on.  He's completely bald now.
The adrenal is back, but he's too fragile to handle another surgery.  So
my sweet, mostly reformed biter is living out his days pilfering dog
food, smacking the cat and enjoying lots and lots of treats.
 
Next time maybe I'll tell of Bear who bites when he wants my attention.
Or maybe Miesa who only bites my sister.  That little snot KNOWS my
sister is scared of her and so lives to lie in wait and stalk her around
the house.  I think she likes the squeal.
 
Sigh.
 
Anne
(with Miesa, Joe, Bear and Ringo)
[Posted in FML issue 5015]