Dear FML,
 
I am de-lurking for the first time in ages to report on the activities of
Jerill (Crawls Through Vents), Tom (Rolls over for Belly-Scratch) and
Gabriella (Lusts for Blood).
 
In the way of minor discoveries, I'm happy to report that all three ferrets'
tails DO smell like grape soda.  I read about it any number of times, and
always meant to check, but never got around to it.  Recently, I put
Gabriella on my shoulder, and she nicely tucked her tail under my nose for
balance.  Eureka!  Grape soda!  We checked the boys, whose tails smell
faintly of it, but her smells precisely like grape soda.  Too funny.
Gabriella has a thing for Velcro, and will 'floss' for the longest time.  I
assume it isn't hurting her, and it does make her easy to locate.
 
But on to Jerill's adventures.  I am embarassed to report this, and need no
reminders of how stupid I am.  I just want to share this with people who
will really understand (as opposed to my family and coworkers, who all think
I am over the top about ferrets).  We got home from a lovely trip to Teton
and Yellowstone Friday night, retrieved the furballs from the vet, and
crashed.  We wanted to give them an extra-long run yesterday morning, to
help make up for the week of confinement.  The upstairs is quite
ferret-proof, so we don't worry about them spending a while up there
unsupervised.  WRONG!  Our house was built in 1914, and still has the
old-fashioned vents that stick way out of the wall.  The one in the bathroom
isn't a tight fit, as apparently the person who installed the drywall was
measuring impaired (so am I, so I am in no position to criticize).  All
three love to loll in front of the vent and enjoy the AC in the summertime,
but no-one ever tried to dislodge it.  Imagine my horror when I walked
upstairs to see the vent propped open, and Jerill looking at me from inside.
Stuart said he didn't know I could make that kind of noise.  Not thinking
quickly enough, I reached for him and he slide out of sight (straight down
to the basement).  Stuart said the second noise was worse.  In my panic, I
managed to shut off the A/C, and with trembling hands, dialed my furnace
man's emergency number.  It never entered my head to call the fire
department.  We've had lots of work done on our ancient ventilation system,
and all I could think was "Mark.  Mark.  Mark knows our heating system.  Get
Mark."  Mark was quite perplexed, but agreed to come right away.  Meanwhile,
we scooped up the sables, put them in the cage, and ran frantically up and
down the stairs, calling for Jerill and trying to listen for him (which was
pretty difficult with all the racket we made).  Stuart spotted a little pink
nose peering through the gap where the main pipe joined the furnace.  He
unscrewed the pipe, then we had to convince a perfectly happy ferret, who
was having a grand time shredding the humidifier filter, that he should
leave this fascinating new hole we had never told him about, to come out to
be cleaned and wept over.  Mark showed up, and with much shaking of head,
put the furnace back together.  I duct-taped the vent within an inch of it's
life.  If it hadn't been only 11 AM, I would have had a shot of scotch right
then and there.  Perhaps two.  Jerill is fine, no harm done in the fall.  I
think he enjoyed all the attention.  A couple of months of psychotherapy and
I'll be fine as well.
 
Our condolences to BIG and Bob and all who have had their angels cross the
Rainbow Bridge.  Elizabeth, it is always good to hear from you.  Bob, happy
road-tripping.  Please come to South Dakota some day.
 
Love in Ferrets,
Susan Wenzel
[Posted in FML issue 2382]