One of the many reasons I love being part of this board are all the
amazing stories I get to read each day, like the one about Louie the
ferret I read today.

Ferrets can really speak, and do listen (when they feel like it). This
year will mark 20 years of sharing my life with carpet sharks, and I
have experienced some pretty amazing stuff, like the recent ferret
makeover of Vicious the dwarf. She's still tearing up the house and as
happy as a clam doing it.

But sometimes I guess they want to be heard so badly, they'll do just
about anything.

The story of Louie reminded me of the first time I met my litle man
Gizmo. I was a one ferret mommy, I had lost a very elderly male and
adopted one very vicious small dwarf female. She was so tiny I had to
spend months nursing her to health and full size, which wasn't much.
Then I decided ok it's time. I'm ready.

I found a local shelter, which turned out not really to be a shelter. I
won't go into detail about this place other than to say it was no place
you'd ever want to be. The shelter mom said she would only adopt out 1
of 3 ferrets. So I could have 1 and only 1, out of a certain 3. There
were more than 100 ferrets there. My heart just sank. Many showed signs
of lack of socialization, others were sick. They all seemed well fed,
and taken care of but the numbers were just way beyond what one person
could handle.

After a couple of hours attempting to figure out exactly which 3 I
could choose from, I said simply to the shelter Mom, look just give me
an application and while I fill it out you find some ferts for me to
pick from. She agreed and handed me a piece of paper on a clip board.

Then from out of nowhere came a champagne streak bolting across the
room and skidded to a halt right in front of me. He looked at me, and I
looked at him. So I went ahead and started fishing around for a pen in
my purse and the little devil climbed into the chair. He stopped again
and looked. Not knowing if this ferret was socialized or not I did not
reach out to him as I would have my own ferts. No worries though, he
did a little bounce and plopped himself right down in my lap and
lowered himself onto the clipboard and paper with a grunt of
satisfaction. I sort of did a look around, no one was in sight except
about 70 ferrets. I started to fill out the application, and my
paperweight decided to stretch. Waaaayyy out, and with a deep sigh
rolled over slightly so that I could sign the little box at the bottom.

The shelter mom came back and did a double take, she told me his name
was Gizmo and he didn't like anyone. She went on to give me a few
examples of why he was not a very nice ferret, and not for adoption. As
we moved on to discuss the ferrets she had rounded up, the little ham
stayed glued to my lap. He even let me scratch his chin. He made little
grunty noises and rubbed his face with his front paws.

I decided it was time to get going, so I ran out to the car to get
the carrier. Any of the 3 adoptables were fine with me, but I was not
leaving that house of horrors without a ferret. They all deserved a
good home, and i was going to take whichever one she let me have.

I came in the door and set down the carrier. Over in my chair was the
little champagne paperweight. His whole body was shaking. He jumped
down and ran over to the carrier and began scratching at it's door then
looked up at me. I opened it for him of course, everyone knows how much
ferrets love a new bed or box to play and sleep in. Since he was off
limits for adoption I figured it wouldn't hurt to let some of the
furkids play in the box.

I sat back down to wrap up the donation to the shelter mom, and pretty
soon this "not nice" ferret began fighting with other ferts. He was
keeping them out of the carrier, even going so far as to pull the door
as shut as he could without latching it. His shelter mommy kept making
little "huh" noises at all these antics. I had already asked her 3
times if she would give him to me, so I had no illusions about getting
him in the end.

Paperwork done, and money changed hands I was ready to go, so I looked
at the lovely woman who was trying so hard to care for an enormous
number of ferrets and asked ok, have you decided which one you are
willing to let go? I promise you can visit anytime, and whoever you
choose will truly have a forever home with me. She sort of gave a wry
smile and said, when it comes to these little guys it is best not to
choose, but it doesn't matter anyways because you got chosen. Then it
all sorta made sense, and I felt sorta of silly. I was so busy being
mad at her for having an insane number of ferrets she wasn't willing
to give up that I forgot she was just like me, trying to love and care
for all these kids, who deserved to be where they wanted to be. And I
didn't listen to what was being shouted at me the whole time.

Gizmo had done everything except whip out a sign that said I pick you!

I took the little stinker home, and now many years later he is still
the Al Bundy of ferrets. He snores, he farts, he grunts, he sleeps
anywhere and in every position. Remote controls are his fave, and
stinky shoes are to be relished. When I am sick he breaks out of his
cage to come make sure I am still breathing, well that and shred my
tissues. He's bald now too, not that he cares. He's been sweet every
single day, and gives tons of kisses.

So when a day goes badly or life is just feeling rough I make doubly
sure to go over to my little man, cuddle him close and tell him I pick
you too little buddy.

Have you been picked? I would love to hear any stories about something
that happened to let you know that your ferret chose you!

[Posted in FML 6666]