Dear Ferret Folks-
 
We have had a stretch of punishingly hot and sticky weather here in
Massachusetts, after months of cold and wet weather.  We were all simply
unprepared for the heat!  Including the ferrets, who looked like all the
air had leaked out of them, and they had become Salvadore Dali's "Soft
Ferrets", like in that "Soft Watches" painting of his.  They just lay
there, limply, too hot to whimper.  Well, we are not without mercy.  It
may have been 87 in our apartment, but it was muuuuuch cooler in our
bedroom, where we have that wonderful little mighty-mite of an air
conditioner.  It is big enough to ensure that we sleep nice and cool,
but not big enough to even think about trying to cool the whole place
down with it.  It is a one room machine.
 
We scooped up Ping is He and his little psycho friend Puma, who was so
overcome by the heat that she couldn't mount an effective resistance...
too hot to scratch, twist, bite, flee, her ususal friendly repetoire.  We
put them in our bedroom, turned the little AC to the "stun" setting, and
closed the door.  Within minutes, we could hear revived ferrets bouncing
and running and dooking.  Then, of course, it was time to explore our
room, especially our two nice, big walk in closets with the mirrored
doors.  Dann and I peeked our heads in the door, and it was awesome to
see Puma try to kill her own reflection in the mirrored doors.  Stoopid
ferret.  Then we closed the door again, figured they would settle down
and sleep the day away comfortably.
 
They did.
 
But apparently, one of them discovered what I shall call, for the
purposes of this communication, a "marital aide." The MA was taken from
a drawer on one side of the room, and dragged to the other, where it had
to be abandoned, when a ferret could not quite get it through the crack
left open in one of the mirrored doors of a walk in closet.  The ferret
had obviously tried hard to secure this prize, as the numerous chew marks
demonstrated.  The MA was confiscated, consigned to the trash, my husband
and I had a good laugh.
 
It was pretty late by then.  My husband and I went to bed.  I sat up
with a book, he played solitaire on his little bitty hand held computer.
(This is what happens when you have been married for a long time.  This
is MA's are for.)  My husband suddenly broke the silence with "Ewwww!
Al-ex!  Look at this!" It seems that our little ferrety friends were not
content to run off into the welcoming dark of the closet with just our
MA, no, they had also snitched the KY, and chewed all manner of little
holes into it, so that it was mortally wounded, an oozing mess.
Evidently it, too, had been headed for the closet when something
interrupted its progress.
 
Ping?  And PUMA?  Well, Ping* is* a muscular, agile lad in peak
condition.  Clear eyes, good coat.  Wet nose, all of that.  He is a
complete bonehead, but maybe Puma doesn't care.  She has him wrapped
around her little paw.  She says "Ping, climb up on that counter and
knock the glass of soda over for me", dang, he does it.  Doesn't waste
any time, either.  Puma is drinking Coke off the floor before you know
it.  She doesn't share, either.
 
Puma isn't really a Kit anymore, she's lost that round little belly, and
her Kit coat.  She's almost six months old.  She's a woman, now.
 
No wonder Ping is He has dark circles around his eyes UNDER HIS MASK.
 
Alexandra in MA
[Posted in FML issue 4910]