Oh ... your post cracked me up.  Just yesterday I had a guy over here to fix
my stove, and he'd never seen a ferret in "real life" before.  (When he came
in I said, "Watch your step--there's a couple of ferrets running around
somewhere in here that I have to catch.")
 
When I caught Mort (who was eyeing up those tasty workboots from beneath the
living room chair) the guy asked, "Do they ever get tame when you keep them
as pets?" I explained, gritting my teeth in consternation, that they ARE
tame--absolutely domesticated, that no, he cannot go out to the nearest
wooded area and just catch a wild one.  Sigh.  But he was a nice guy and at
least seemed to believe me.  What I love most about my guys is their
fearlessness.  In almost any situation they are curious, not frightened.
Well, ok, Mort was terrified the first time I turned on the vaccuum cleaner
while he was checking it out--and tho' Pepper will acutally ride it,
Harley-the-dog is also terrified, so she's a very poor role model ...
 
And in fact, Mort was not hiding because he was afraid ... he was sizing
up those wonderful boots and formulating a plan of attack.  He has a
full-blown shoe fettish, and he's come to understand that most humans want
to *keep* their shoes, so he mostly attacks from the rear.  It's pretty
funny.
 
Mort's about 4.5 months now, and he's taken very well to nip-training ...
except that when we pick him up from the floor with bare arms, he tries to
bite the fleshy part between wrist and elbow.  Today he got Dave's hand and
actually drew blood, and Dave is MAD.  Now, Dave was trying to break up a
heavy-duty wrestling match between Mort and Pepper, so I think his getting
bit was an accident and not planned by Mort at all.  But it is frustrating
to try to keep forearms safe while lifting the little bugger.
 
And my lovely, mellow, sweet fat Pepper is a NOSE BITER.  He will never,
ever, ever bite anyone anywhere, unless they hold him up at eye level to
whisper sweet nothings and smother him with kisses ... and then he quite
blatently reaches out to nip the end of the nose.  Well, it only took 3 nips
for me to catch on.  It's like with the dog ... Pepper stares, thinks about
it long enough for me to think he *knows* he shouldn't do it .  .  .  but in
the end he can't resist.  He and Harley have these marathon staring contests
that only end when he gives in to the primal urge and bites her.  Lately
I've found a couple of small scabs on the dog ... but I imagine she deserved
whatever nips she got, considering she outweighs them by a TON.
 
More news:  Mort hated linatone when I brought him home at 9 wks ... so I
left it alone for a few months, and when I offered him some last week, he
couldn't get enough.  He loves it, better than raisins.  Must be a "grown
up" taste or something.
 
Ok, nuff for now!
 
--Sheri
[Posted in FML issue 1887]