A happy story:
I've started to take Felicia out for regular walks on a leash and harness
(with advice from Kaye--thanks again!).  We practiced walking with the
leash a few times inside, and after we both figured out what we were doing,
I decided it was time to brave the outdoors.  I opened the door to the
hallway, which had been the "mysterious forbidden" door to her until then,
and zoom--she went right out.  She first endeared herself to my neighbor
across the hall, who was on his way out and had his door ajar.  Although
slightly embarrassed about laundry piled up on his floor, he nevertheless
let her nose her way around his apartment for a while, with me in tow
holding the leash.  After she made a lunge for the open toilet, I figured
it was time to bid our neighbor thanks and see you later.  Felicia and I
then headed outside.  The first few minutes she's outside, it's
bottle-brush tail all the way.  She roots her big pink nose in the grass,
rubs her belly in the dirt, backs into the side of the fence, poops, and
then stares up at me guiltily (I couldn't find my litter box, Mom,
honest!).  After a few trips out now, she's fairly well adapted to the
leash and harness.  I let the leash have slack unless she heads for
trouble.  If she feels resistance on the leash, she'll come away from
whatever I don't want her to get to.  Sometimes she'll run away from the
potential danger on her own, such as when saw those huge and scary people
pushing that noisy and scary baby stroller across the street.  At that
point, she stood on her hind legs and scratched at my leg.  I picked her
up, gave her a reassuring kiss and then she immediately squirmed back down
(oh jeez, not in public, Mom!).  She likes nighttime walks much better than
in the day.  So last night, while my SO was watching the college basketball
finals, I jiggled the doorknob to the front door and Felicia galloped over
with her little eyes bright.  She put up with the indignities of having the
harness put on her with only a minor bribing of a lick of Ferretvite, and
then she took me outside for a run.  And she can run!  She ran full bore
down the sidewalk with me jogging behind her.  She ran us a few blocks down
the street, pausing now and then to sniff, dig, roll, and squirm in the
grass.  After about 40 minutes, she then turned around, ran us right back
to where we live and slinkied up the steps to the front entrance.  I walked
up the stairs ahead of her, and then suddenly felt some resistance.  I
turned around and there was a flat ferret, her feet all splayed out, lying
lengthwise on one of the steps.  "What's wrong?" I asked.  Her answer was
the biggest yawn I've ever seen.  I picked her up, carried her inside, and
gave her a drink some water and something to eat.  She gave me a kiss (she
never usually does--I was probably salty, but I grinned anyway) and she was
zonked out within a few seconds after that for the rest of the night.
 
Ah, the nighttime spring air.
 
Helen and Felicia (wishing many happy times for all of the fuzzies and the
people who are owned by them, health for all of those who are sick, good
homes those needing them, and peace for those on the Rainbow Bridge.)
[Posted in FML issue 2632]