Dear Ferret Folks-

The other night all was quiet in the late-night kitchen. The
refrigerator hummed, quietly. I pulled open the dishwasher door and
started unloading the warm contents thereof. Plates to the cupboard,
ditto mugs and glasses. Shiny silverware was pulled in bunches from
the wash-rack, and sorted into the silverware drawer. There were still
heavy pots and pans and whatnots inside the washer. Caff-Pow, for
example, who really likes being in the dish washer.

Mind you, we do *not* encourage this practice. He, for his part, just
views the dishwasher as a wet jungle gym with a fragrant rubber gasket.
One more forbidden delight that he sees no earthly reason to deny
himself. So he avails himself of it, as often as possible.

Luck was not with him that night, though. In scrambling up and in while
I tried to shoo him down and out some complicated part of his back paw
got trapped amongst the enameled metal bars. I think that he swung for
a few instants, hanging from the toes. It hurt, it obviously hurt. He
gave a series of those loud "Chitter-chitter-chitters!" that scares the
hell out of any ferret Momma! The kit must be rescued!

As it happened, he managed to extricate his sore toes precisely as I
leaned down and into the dishwasher. And that was when he poofed...just
as I reached foreward to rescue him. Needless to say, everything in the
dishwasher at that moment was washed a second time. I am so greatful
that *more* of me was not within reach of his chemical assalut...Think
of it as a cross between a bit of Sushi grade tuna that had undergone
a perverse metamorphosis with dark undercurrents of souring milk. My
husband made a meweling noise, and locked himself in a another room.
But honestly, it was gone in two minutes time. Two llooooong minutes.

Poor Caff-Pow. His poof was understandable, justifiable under the
circumstances. But I don't think he had *any* idea that he could poof.
Todd was perfectly horrified, and the dog just followed Caff-Pow's
butt around as if to say "Naw...that wasn't really YOU, was it?"

But it was. It was. Given the right provocation, I think that ANY
among us might just fuzzle our tail and let one fly! I know I've been
tempted. More than once. Especially when telemarketing machines call
my house up to see if I want to answer any questions. Is it possible
to poof via phone line? Cause if so, I'll give it a try.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 6406]