Dear Ferret Folks-

Every now and then someone asks about the wisdom of vaccinating
ferrets. And every time I tell this story. I apologize if you are tired
of seeing it. This might be a good time for some of you to scroll. But
if the name "Sabrina the Bat-Biter" means nothing to you, you might do
well to read what I have to say.

Many years ago Sabrina, Maya the Moose, and Don't (sister of No) were
my ferrets. We all lived in a huge old Connecticut farmhouse in a more
or less free-range arrangement. My husband Dann and I refer to that
time in our life as "the Neurotic Petting Zoo" phase. Not only were
there ferrets, there were Hedgehogs, a flock of mallards, some Rhode
Island Reds, several truly difficult Pot Bellied Pigs (including the
late, lamented Spamela Anderpig), Walter the Cow, a few black lambs,
a many-horned Jacob's Sheep, two cats, and of course, the Noble Allis
Chompers, our dog to this day. It was busy at our house.

And in the attic.....bats. Many bats. Many many bats. Bats are no
respecters of what many would consider reasonable boundaries. By this,
I mean I considered it reasonable that they remain in the attic, or
outside sucking down their weight in mosquitos. Sometimes they had
other ideas.

We had a completely awesome vet who made house calls. (He came when
Spamela had trouble with her piglets. A shot of oxytocin, mother and
'lets were fine!) He was happy to vaccinate all of our mammailian
friends at low cost, and we were greatful. We were surrounded by forest
in a high-rabies zone. The disease was doing some serious harm to the
local foxes, raccoons, and coyotes. Most of our friends lived outside,
so we vaccinated.

Now, you might think vaccinating the ferrets was overkill. I don't
think so. All three of the ladies learned quiet, sneaky ways to leave
the house when they wanted to. The house had a dry-stone foundation
with lots of little gaps that they could sneak through. If I had known
enough to be scared, I'm sure I would have sat up all night with a
caulking gun, but I was new to ferrets. It didn't seem unreasonable to
me that they went outside. The cat did. The dog did. And I got *them*
vaccinated, after all....

But *ferrets?* Under normal circumstances, ferrets live inside. They
only leave people's homes under close supervision, so why bother
with the risk and expense? Because ferrets gather improbability unto
themselves. If something you KNOW isn't going to happen happens, a
ferret will probably be involved. And that is what happened with
Sabrina. She was *inside* her house, minding her own business, when
a bat flew into her territory.

A bat. Little leathery black gargoyle face. Furry back. Belly full
of guano. Now, come on. What were the odds. A, that a bat flew into
Sabrina's territory INSIDE THE HOUSE at just the right moment that
she was poised to attack. And B, that her attack would be successful.
Sabrina caught the bat, and did it greivious bodily harm. The screeches
and clicks were hideous. The noises Sabrina made were only marginally
less hideous. Did Sabrina want to give her prize up? Hell, no. I had
to chase them through the house, then separate the two manually.
Imagine tearing sounds...membranous wings being fanged and tiny bones
crunching....Oh, Sabrina was angry that I took the bat away. Did I
mention that Sabrina was a Zen's ferret, and not de-poofed? Heh. Nuff
said.

Sabrina spent I forget how long in quarentine, alone in a cage, *issed
off, consoling herself with chow. She was the size of a hot water
bottle by the time she was allowed out. Was the bat rabid? We will
never know. My reaction was to drop it into a ziplock bag, and to drop
the ziplock bag into the freezer until the animal control people could
come pick it up and test it. Freezing destroys the rabies virus. My
bad. The good news is that Sabrina *wasn't* infected, maybe because of
her vaccination, maybe because the bat was clean. In the end all that
mattered to me was that Sabrina was OK. The cost of the vaccination was
worth it, in my opinion. The risk, worth it. What if the bat *wasn't*
clean, I hadn't realized she'd caught it, and Sabrina got ill, and bit
someone? Me, another ferret?

That is the story of Sabrina the Bat Biter, queen of the improbable.
Every time I post about this I get e-mails in my inbox about how I hate
bats. Let me save you the trouble. I *like* bats. I think they are one
of God's marvels. I know that they are only very rarely rabid. But if
you had to pull the partially masticated remains of one out of your
ferret's mouth, wouldn't you be quietly greatful that this was a
*vaccinated* ferret? I have been there, and this is my story, too.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 5684]