Regardless of the action, regardless of the situation... every action
deserves an appropriate reaction.  And that's it in a nutshell.  Emphasis
on appropriate.
 
Ferrets are interesting little creatures and I would not have traded in one
moment, good or bad, to change the experiences I have had.  The one thing
that stands above all else in caring for my ferrets is understanding them
for who they are.
 
It was a strange new world when Vincent, our first ferret, wriggled his way
into my life and that world has been ever expanding, ever changing since
then.  After we got Vincent his buddy, Hobbes, we knew that our lives would
always be filled with ferrets and more than likely lots of them.  And I
wasn't wrong.
 
Understanding their nature is by far the most important thing to caring for
a ferret.  Then comes patience - lots of patience.  Love is already in the
picture, at least it is for me, otherwise I would not have taken this oh so
serious responsibility of accepting another living creature into my life.
 
I look at it like living with another person: you have to get to know each
other first before trying to adjust to each other.  It's not always easy
and the road may seem rough for longer than we can imagine but there is
always a light at the end of the tunnel.  But imagine life with a roommate
whom you strike out at every time they do something that doesn't agree with
you.  It would be hell and it would only end in the inevitable - one you
would move.  Ferrets don't have the choice - we make that decision for them.
 
I'll give this example (I realize that this is a cat story.  Although I
have had some real hard blood letting biter ferrets, none of them match the
ferocity of Toom's aggression): Toom was a cat that I found in -43 degree C
weather at my work on one bright (no really) sunny day.  He came over to
me and rubbed my legs and I thought, "Wow!  What a sweet and adorable cat!
Why on earth would someone leave this great cat out here to freeze to
death?!" and home he came with me.  After enduring, unbelievably, 5 baths
to rid him of most of the oil and grease on his fur, we realized that his
coat was filled with knots, top to bottom and that he would have to go to
the vet.  In the meantime, we wanted him to get acquainted to our home and
ourselves.  We went to play with him and the next thing I remember, my hand
was slashed and bleeding.  Trial after trial, and many boxes of bandaids
later, revealed he either did not know how to play, or that he did not
realize that we were not a threat to him.  It made me wonder what had
happened to him in his short nine months of life, before he found me, that
had made him so aggressive.  In either case, we knew that hitting him in
any way or form, even talking to him in a loud, firm voice, was not going
to win him over.
 
So for a year we let him scratch us and growl, never hitting, never harshly
scolding, but always talking softly, always just gently stroking his paws.
It was an extremely long year and there were times that I wanted to just
open the door and let him walk but we persisted and love, patience and
understanding won him over.  To this day, people cannot believe that this
is the same cat.  Now he can be scolded in a firm and even loud voice, for
he knows that it will not be followed by any form of punishment.  Together,
we have a new understanding.
 
Understanding, patience, love.  Use liberally.  Handout daily.  No
prescription required.
 
Betty and Her Blur O'Fur
To my ferts: I just can't emphasize enough how much I love what makes
you so unique.
[Posted in FML issue 2660]