You can never be too careful.
 
Today while our crew of 11 were out playing, my wife, Joan, went out on the
screen porch to bring in the big shop vacuum for some heavy duty cleaning.
The screen porch area has always been our ferret's favorite playground, but
the cold weather here in New England has kept their playground closed.
Today the sun was shining, and although it wasn't exactly warm outside, it
wasn't cold either, so she decided to give the ferrets a treat and let them
out to play on the porch.  Of course it didn't take an engraved invitation,
and all 11 scampered out to romp.
 
Joan continued with the cleaning for another hour.  By then it was ferret
nap time for our crew, and time for part of the shelter crew to play.  She
easily found 5 of ours.  They had already put themselves to bed.  That left
6 to round up.
 
She looked out on the porch - no ferrets there.  She searched their favorite
sleep spots - none there.  Joan began to get a little concerned.  Not overly
so, since we usually have to hunt down at least one or two who are
constantly finding out-of-the-way places.  Joan began looking where she had
looked before, beginning with the porch.  This time she was horrified to see
that the door leading off the porch was standing open about 6 inches, and
realized that it had probably been left open from the previous day when she
had gone outside.
 
She began calling ferrets, while running out onto the lawn.  Loki, our dark
eyed white, poked his head up over the bulkhead at the first call.  One
down; five to go.
 
Joan grabbed Loki, then spotted Valentine in the middle of the yard checking
out the roots of a rose bush.  Two down; four to go.
 
Then Mynee poked her gray head through the wooden steps leading down from
the porch.  As Joan grabbed Mynee, she noticed Bud under the porch.  He came
to her call.  Two to go.
 
Joan saw Garfunkle under the main porch, fast asleep.  She had to crawl
under the porch to get him.  When Garf sleeps, he SLEEPS.  One to go.  "Why
is it always one?" Joan was asking herself, feeling the first twinges of
panic.  We live in a very wooded area, with miles and miles of miles and
miles.  One was missing, and could be anywhere.  Joan called and called.
 
She turned around to go to the other side of the house, and there, right at
her feet, looking up at her as if to say, "Yes?  Was there something you
wanted?" stood Spook, our Halloween ferret of 4 year ago, the sixth and
final MIA.
 
You can never be too careful.
 
Dick B.
[Posted in FML issue 2104]