I know most of you have seen how great of an actor your ferret can be after
you've taught him that he gets a reward for using the litterbox.  You've
seen the tail up in the air, and his sides pumping as he stands in the
corner of the litterbox.  Great acting, huh?  Let me tell you about great
acting.
 
Buddy was a single ferret when he came into our shelter system.  An albino
who had been declawed, and never seen another ferret.  The former owner no
longer had time for him.  He was kept at our Manchester, NH halfway house,
since our main shelter is full.
 
In spite of his single status, he made fast friends with a young female who
was suffering from cancer.  They shared everything until her time came to
cross the Rainbow Bridge.
 
Buddy took her passage very hard.  He stopped eating and drinking.  He
became very lethargic, and in spite of round the clock feedings and liquids,
soon lost the ability to use his back legs.  The vet said that it was likely
stress induced from his being in the shelter and losing his only friend.
Kim and Phil, operators of the halfway house took Buddy under their special
care.  They fed him Duck Soup every three hours, with lots of pediolyte and
water.  The massaged and exercised his rear legs.  Kim carried him around in
the extra large pouch of her sweatshirt all the time she was home.  Three
weeks passed with no noticeable improvement in his legs.  He looked well.
He was putting on weight, but he still couldn't walk without dragging his
back legs.
 
Yesterday Phil and Kim went out for a short time.  They had left Buddy and a
few other ferrets out to play while they were gone.  When they came in and
flipped on the lights, a white streak shot across the room and under a
cabinet.  "Who was that?" asked Kim.  "It was Buddy." answered Phil.  "No,"
retorted Kim, it couldn't have been Buddy."
 
Then a pink nose poked out from under the cabinet, and two red eyes locked
on Phil and Kim.  Buddy dragged himself out from under the cabinet, very
pitifully and came over to them.
 
They kept a careful eye on Buddy the rest of the night.  It seems whenever
they were not paying obvious attention, Buddy was a rambunctious little
hellion on four legs; bouncing and running with the best of them.  Let Phil
or Kim turn on the light and go into the same room with him, Buddy became a
"poor crippled ferret who couldn't use his back legs." The little twerp was
faking it just to get the attention!
 
I hereby nominate Buddy for the Academy Award for Best Dramatic Acting by a
Ferret.
 
          Dick B.
[Posted in FML issue 1732]