When I read the post about the ferret dollies I just had to tell you
about my little girl Scooter and the case of the abused Santa Claus.
 
It was Christmas and a friend of mine brought the ferrets a little
stuffed Santa.  When you squeezed his tummy, he said "Ho Ho Ho Merry
Christmas.
 
It was love at first squeeze for Scooter.  She was the only ferret I
had out of 9 that had anything to do with the stuffed toys.  Like many
others have stated, she spent her day relocating the babies then putting
them away at night.
 
Well Santa was very special.  He got to sleep with her and Ziggy and
spent most of his day being hauled from one really cool hiding place to
another.  After a period of time I noticed that the stuffed animals were
getting pretty dirty so one day I decided to give them all a bath.  I
snuck them all out while she was sleeping soundly and put them through
the washer and dryer.  When they were all clean and fluffy I put them in
her toy box so she could put them where they belonged when Scoot got up.
 
I was lying on the couch watching TV and I heard this "Ho Ho Ho Merry
Christmas".  Once it started it would not stop.  "Ho Ho Ho Merry
Christmas" over and over.  I then heard this wild thumping and saw
Scoot flying down the ramps of the cage to the closed door.  She was
in a state of panic.  Well it got worse.
 
I found Santa and tried squeezing, shaking and banging, nothing would
silence the jolly little red man.  I decided surgery was in order.
 
Meanwhile back at the cage, If Scooter could yell and swear she would
have.  She was frantically pacing back and forth, hissing at me.
 
My next mistake was performing the surgery where she could see me.  I
took my little sharp sewing scissors and carefully opened the still Ho
Hoing Santa down the back.  I thought Scoots eyes were going to roll
back in her head as she collapsed into a dead faint.  She stared at me,
wide eyed, in utter disbelief at what I was doing to her Santa.
 
I removed the talking box and finally was able to silence him.
 
Scooter must have believed I killed the little elf.  She just laid
there, like someone had just changed her world forever.  Quickly I
sutured him up the back and fluffed him back into shape.  She didn't
budge, totally disheartened.
 
I kept trying to tell her he was really alright and even smelled a
whole lot better, but she had to see for herself.  I opened the cage
and gentle placed the now silent Santa next to her. She gave him the
once over sniffing and rolling him one way then the other.
 
Like a streak of brown and red fur she raced him up the ramps and into
her hammock..  I don't know if she scared the bejeppers out of Ziggy
or she physically threw him out of the bed, but he tumbled out with a
loud plop.  She would not let him back in all day as she hissed at any
one that tried to get near.
 
It took her a week to stop hissing at me every time I got too close to
Santa.
 
When her time came to go to the rainbow bridge she was dragging a very
grubby looking little Santa.  I never washed him again.
 
--
Pat BAby
 
http://groups.msn.com/ComfyCritters
http://albertaferretsociety.com
[Posted in FML issue 5194]