Okay, I"ll play.

Heres an old personal story I found in my stash. It is about my second
ferret though. My first was a sweet one that my mother and I found in a
local pet store. We thought it was a wild exotic animal and had to sign
papers for NJ Fish and Game to get her. We had tiny hand book from the
1940's that told us to feed her bread and milk. Luckily the pet store
lady had different ideas. But poor Baby escaped outside one day. For
many years, mother told me she was probably living under our deck free
and eating up mice and bugs living happily. I believed her. I still
want to believe her.

In my early teens and I went through a bad bout of mono. Because of
complications, I was bed ridden and out of school for 4 whole months.
I had gotten to be quite a hermit up in myroom, and started to get
depressed. One day I was in my bed watching TV and sketching when my
edroom door flung open without so much as a knock. My mother came
waltzing in with a cigarette balanced on the end of her lip, a cocktail
in one hand (hear the ice rattle? lol), and this huge flat kind of
white Tupperware container with a screentop. There was this "animal
thing" rummaging all around inside. And on the top of thecontainer were
bit thick leather gloves. She said, "got somethin' for you". I looked
up from my drawing annoyed but curious and said what? And what are
those gloves for??" She replied, "had to get her. While I waspicking up
parrot food in the pet store ... these teenage boys were teasing and
tormenting her and the new person at the pet store was letting it go
on! She's been abused a lot I suspect, and is veryv icious ... so be
careful. I suppose this will give you something to do".

She had set the container on the floor of my bedroom in the corner,
and stood there musing over it, took this deep, long drag off her
cigarette, and she said, "so there ya go ... bye". Off she went! I
walked over and in it was a poor little female ferret. Oh she stunk
to high heaven. And vicious, my gosh you couldn't even get near the
container. I had no idea how to handle the situation, I was just a kid!
I went on and set up a home for her. Then after she kept trying to
attack me right through the screen top, I put on the gloves and gave it
a go. Holy cow she bit into my glove with a vengeance and would not let
go. I had to sit and hold her in my lap with her attached to my gloved
hand and pet her with the other hand. She then let go and leaped off my
lap and was loose in my room! It took forever to catch the little
thing. Finally I had her all set up in this big aquarium (I had no cage
... talk about doing EVERYTHING wrong in the old days). We actually had
to keep her in my bathroom with the window open she stunk so bad. It
was a couple months before I could handle her without gloves. I finally
could bath her, and she still stunk! So we named her Rosey. I used to
walk around singing the song Rosey from the movie Bye Bye Byrdie.
"Everything is Rooooosey, for me and little Rooooosey ... we could be
so coooooozy, life is but a dream. For me and little Rosey......." LOL.
She had free run of the house a good part of each day and I kept her
loose in my room much of the time when I was ill. She was great
company. And she loved all our other animals, especially Nicole, my
Doberman pinscher. I remember my mother's Amazon parrot and Rosey
torturing each other all the time lol. She hated my father lol. She bit
his feet all the time. And my ever so slightly inebriated mother would
say, "Oh Bob....you make such a big deal stoooop it!" He'd say,
"Jessssus Christ JUNE!! God damn animals! It's biting the hell out me.
Don't tell me sheisn't! Christ!" And mother would yell back, "Bob,
knock it off ... I mean reaaaaally! She doesn't hurt." Meanwhile my
father's feet would have these fang marks all over them, and slowly
welt up. Mom would bitch at him more. lol. You know how ferrets have
this thing for soaps? Well, When I'd hear my father in the shower....
I'd purposefully make sure she was loose upstairs, and that his
bathroom door was cracked open so she could get in. "JEEEEESUS CHRIST
JUNE THAT GODDAMN ANIMAL'S LOOSE! COME GET IT!! IT JUST BIT THE HELL
OUT ME THE DAMN THING!" BAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAAA!! My mother would
roll her eyes, take a sip of her drink, a drag off her cigarette,
and take her sweet damn time hobbling up the stairs to rescue my 
father......purposefully.

Rosey was my pal. The only time I got mad at her was on one Easter
morning when she got to my Easter basket before me! Yeah.... she had
herself quite a feast there.

Visit the Small Animal Channel and Ferrets Magazine!
http://www.smallanimalchannel.com/

Small Animal Champions:
http://www.smallanimalchannel.com/topiclist-small-animal-champions.aspx

About me:
http://www.smallanimalchannel.com/authors/rebecca-jean-stout.aspx

Sean and Rocky: http://www.wolfysluv.com/sean.html

[Posted in FML 8173]