Well, only humorous, I suppose, if they are not *your* eight ferrets &
a doxie.
 
Today is the day I clean behind the dryer.  Rescue those lost socks.
Vacuum up the lint.  You know.  The fun stuff.
 
I wait.  The puppy is asleep.  There isn't a ferret in sight.
 
It's time.
 
My laundry room is in a small area off the dining room.  Just enough room
to walk in and that's it.  The kitty litter box is also there.  The dryer
& washing machine have gutter guard (fabulous stuff, btw) all around them
so as to keep the ferrets out.  The litter box is fenced off by a old
piece of baby crib slatting, wedged between the dryer & washer.
 
I remove the slatting.
 
Everyone is still asleep.
 
I get out the Swiffer.  I am going to use it to clean out between the
machines.
 
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Lolo appears.  Her obsession in life is the
Swiffer.  It has this spongy bottom that she yearns over.  She grabs
it.  I tug.  She tugs.  I tug harder.  Lolo lets go.  The Swiffer jerks
forward and clobbers Serge The Giant Economy size ferret (who has also
suddenly appeared) in the jaw.  He falls over.  I pick him to make sure
he's okay and to soothe his hurt feelings.  Lolo drags off the Swiffer.
The dog is now awake and having a snack out of the cat pan.  I can't do
anything because Serge still needs to know he's loved and that it was
nothing personal.
 
I shoo off the dog.  I put Serge down.  Lolo is still busy in the
kitchen.  I crawl on top of the dryer and haul the vacuum up after me.
 
Everything that happens next happens at about the same time.
 
The dog returns to the cat pan.  Twos, Serge, RazMaTaz and Ari proceed
to climb the slats like they are monkey bars and are now swarming
everywhere.  Some are standing on me to see what I'm doing.  Some are
trying to fall behind the dryer or washer.  One is now *in* the washer.
Ari is hanging off my sock.  I hit my head on the cabinets.  I struggle
to get down and almost step on Sara who is furious because she arrived
late to the party and missed everything.  She bites me.  The hedgehog
who lives in the laundry room is now awake and making sounds like a hand
grenade missing its pin.
 
I decide I don't care about lint build-up and if the whole place burns
down because of it, I can always blame the ferrets.
 
I decide it's also time to start celebrating New Year's early and go grab
a beer.
 
So, anyone want eight ferrets and a dachshund?
 
anne
[Posted in FML issue 5109]