When I was a baby, my Grandma had a mink scarf-one with three little minks
holding each other's tails.  They had noses,eyes, ears, four tiny little
mouths, and four tiny litttle tails.  I longed for the day Grandma would
give them to me and I would set them free.  Meanwhile, I played with them
and dreamed of their eventual freedom.  One day, years later, I discovered
Grandma had had the small parts cut off and the scarf made more contiguous.
For some reason, I was heartbroken, and at the first opportunity, adopted a
ferret.  My first ferrets were minks that were long dead, but in my mind
they were living ferrets.  Karen Vance
[Posted in FML issue 1347]