I was sitting on my couch last night after I tucked my little
fur-babies into bed for the night around 1AM, I was bleeding from a
particularly hard bite and had cleaned up at least 3 little brown "?"
marks in corners and I was thinking to myself, "I wonder if something
really is wrong with me." Do not get me wrong- my ferts rule my world-
no vacation for 3 years now, since I do not trust anyone to make sure
my babies are properly taken care of, and I miss them so bad if I am
away for just a few hours, so I stay home. I don't mind- I spend all of
my time off playing with the kids. What do us ferret people have that
make us LOVE the musky smell of these strange and wondrous creatures?
We all come from many walks of life and different worlds, but we all
love these little guys. Are there people who support each other the way
the ferret community does with other pets? Is there anyone you can call
in the middle of the night if your Yorkie is crashing and they will
stay on the phone to walk you through it? Or people who will go out of
their way and use their valuable time to give you advice on how to
take care of your sick little Siamese cat? I wonder if anyone has done
a study of this? Do we all have a hidden gene in our DNA that makes us
crave funny little weasels running through our houses and keeping us
on our toes. Does that gene account for us laughing in the face of
horrible pain inflicted by little bites from needle teeth, for
chuckling at little brown turds in the corners of our house, for
risking priceless valuables by owning them and knowing they WILL BE
broken?? If my dog had an "accident" in the house, there would most
likely be at least a "bad boy- you have to go outside!" in his future,
but the ferrets get away with me swiping them off the ground and
planting a big kiss on the top of the head (of course while the dog
sits and ogles incredulously that the ferrets don't have to "go"
outside). Maybe the gene is too small for us to risk sky-diving, but
big enough for us not to be terrified of a bottle-brush tailed hissing
weasel with no fear coming at our toes while we are innocently sitting
in our homes?

I guess if there is something wrong with me I can live with it! Just
some food for thought.

(PS this is meant to be a humorous post, though mostly true!)

Becky Poland

[Posted in FML 6071]