You hear stories about people living alone in the mountains or the backwoods
with no running water, electricity, or phone, and you think, "That doesn't
happen here.  We're too civilized for things like that." Then you drive a
few miles out of the way and find out you're wrong.
 
Now, I'm not talking about an unmowed front yard with a couple of junked
cars parked there.  I'm talking about a two-acre lot fenced with scrap metal
and pieces of rusty wire, a man living in a camper and using the driveway
for a toilet, and trash spread across the entire lot.  Old wood, scrap
metal -- junk.  As far as the eye can see.
 
Among this junk, I saw a small herd of goats, a flock of geese, a couple of
turkeys, and some chickens, all of them running loose on the property.  A
couple of inches of snow on the ground, a frozen cesspool in the middle of
the lot, a makeshift barn, and some boxes cobbled together out of plywood.
If someone hadn't told me there were ferrets I never would have guessed it,
or even spotted the boxes where they were being kept.  There was that much --
well, clutter isn't the right word, but you get the idea.
 
It was cold enough that after twenty minutes outside with polypropylene long
johns, Gore-Tex jacket and gloves, two pairs of wool socks, and a pair of
Gore-Tex lined hiking boots my feet were still freezing.  Which either means
that I'm the world's biggest weenie, or that it was pretty chilly out.  At
any rate, it's an amazing testimonial to the hardiness of our fuzzy friends.
 
They were in plywood boxes with small grates in the sides and top for air.
Very little light, and the wind could blow right through.  When we opened
the boxes, the ferrets were all huddled together.  The boxes were directly
on the ground, and they were lined with wet straw and ferret feces.  Some of
the animals were completely covered in snow; there were no water dishes, so
some of the other ferrets were licking the snow off the others for water.
None of them struggled when we took them from the boxes and put them in cat
carriers.
 
While we were there the man who was keeping them threw a handful of goat
food loose into one of the boxes; later he put out a plastic bag with a
frozen, whole (guts, feathers, and all) chicken to entice the four animals
that he said were running loose.  "They love it," he said.
 
Half an hour after we arrived with the ferrets at the London Humane Society,
their feet were still cold to the touch.  Some of them had straw and dirt
embedded so deeply in the pads of their paws that one of the volunteers
thought she was pulling a ferret's toe off.  It was dirt.  A couple of the
jills appear to be going into heat; another two may be pregnant.  Every
single ferret that we rescued that day had all four canines cut, some of
them close to the root; some of the ferrets had infected teeth from the
cutting.
 
PetSmart was kind enough to volunteer one of their Mississauga stores to
house all twenty-three ferrets while we arrange for vet exams, spaying,
neutering, and so forth.  After they're given clean bills of health, all of
the healthy ferrets (and I have a feeling that's most of them) will be
available for adoption.  There are a couple of biters, but they're testing
boundaries, not biting out of fear, so they should be interesting "projects"
for the veterans out there.  Members of the Toronto Internet Ferret Group
will be at PetSmart (Britannia and Mavis Road in Mississauga) this weekend
to answer any questions and to look after the ferrets.
 
In the meantime, rest easy knowing that twenty-three ferrets finally have
proper food and water, their first blankies, and their first cuddles.  I saw
them again today, and they seem to be adjusting beautifully.
 
Kind regards,
 
Kate Adlers
[log in to unmask]
North York -- er, Toronto, Ontario, Canada
[Posted in FML issue 2176]