A new dawn, the same old poop in the same old places.  Everywhere BUT the
litter pan.  Held him in the box after he woke up, nothing.  Tried again a
few minutes later, nothing again.  Turned by back for a second just one tiny
little second caught him from the corner of my eye doing a projectile poop
from the second level of the big cage, out the walls and onto the rug.  Big,
soft messy squishy splat kind of stuff.  It was my own fault really, someone
ate through the corner of a pillow no one would fess up to it so they all
got some laxatone stat stuff.  Later in the day the new mattress came, I
pulled out the bad to put on sheets and I stepped in his poop.  YUCK, soft
squishy stuff again.  By now I am pretty P.O.ed between having to clean the
carrier, the cage, the rug and behind the bed all the while trying to get
everything else done too.
 
I go through the house like a mad woman cleaning everything and anything.
My house is rip roaring clean within 2 hours but I'm still mad.  So off to
the cellar I go, there is all kinds of junk down there just waiting to be
thrown out.  Two hours later the cellar isn't so spooky looking anymore and
I'm eye balling all these empty boxes that need to be put out in the trash.
What's one man's trash is another ferret's plaything :-)  Yup, I drag all
those boxes upstairs.  I'm going to make them a under the bed playhouse so
that no one can get in there again to poop.  A couple of hours later I'm
almost done, I only have one or two more holes to cut out so that I can
connect the last two together when I hear bells behind me.  That means one
of them is awake and I have to see if it is Baby so that I can get him right
to the pan.  I turn, it's him, I turn to grab him before he backs up and I
slice my fingertip with the da#!  razor.  Grabbing my finger I start heading
out to get some first aid going and there is Baby pooping on the rug right
in front of the litter pan.  I just couldn't take it anymore I went into the
bathroom had myself a little cry over the cut, (which btw is quite nasty, I
have a chunk of finger tip missing) and not being able to get anywhere with
Baby's litter training.
 
As I'm sure you can guess I got over it and showed the hubby and kids the
neat playhouse I made for the ferts so that they couldn't poop under the bed
anymore.  As we are in the room all three ferts are on the bed, you know how
they have to smell every new thing that comes into the place, when ... one
... by ... little ... ole ... one ... they drop down the side of the bed
from the top next to the wall, right were they weren't supposed to be able
to go.
 
This is Deanna signing off praying fervently that this day will come to an
end with out blood shed :-)
[Posted in FML issue 2230]