[Moderator's note: Doesn't seem too off-topic to me, so it's fine. BIG]

Dear Ferret Folks-

The FML has been rather quiet of late. Perhaps Big will allow a post
that has NOTHING really to do with ferrets. Oh, Todd and Caff-Pow are
quite well. But they haven't been doing anything notable, save for
digging the guts out of a huge poinsettia that I was unwise enough to
place in the bathroom. Imagine potting soil everywhere. I know that you
can. I should have piled bricks in the middle, but I was too lazy and
too late. Potting soil in the pile of National Geographics that I leave
in there to read, potting soil in the bathtub. Potting soil on top of
the scale, as IF I use the scale. I think not. At the moment I am
lying down on the bed to zip my jeans. The scale is probably dying of
loneliness. I don't care if the scale dies a thousand lonely deaths.
Really. I don't.

This is a story about my dog. Some of you follow on Facebook, and
know that my dear Allis Chompers left us last winter. She was nearly
fifteen, and she was crippled by arthritis. Her spirit was strong, but
her body was worn out. Her most excellent vet came to the house and
gave her a mercy shot. She died in her Daddy's arms, in her own dog
bed. I spent about a third of my life with that dog by my side, and I
miss her every day. I would give a lot to pat her soft bat-ears one
more time. To lean down and smell her wonderful dog-smell one more
time. She and I could read each other's minds after so may years, and
we had a lot of silent conversations. My great grandmother used to say
that the only things we could hold against our companion animals is
that they didn't live long enough. I miss Allis, I will always miss
Allis.

She left a huge vacuum in her wake. My husband's heart always needs a
dog to love. So after a few months we found a dog to love. The people
who owned her did not love her. She had no name, save "Dog." They were
a young couple who decided it would be good idea to get their unborn
baby a dog. So they brought a purebred Australian Shepherd puppy.
They lived in a two room studio apartment in downtown Warwick, Rhode
Island. And they bought the baby a cattle-cutting dog. An active,
cattle-cutting dog. They quickly realized their mistake. Their answer?
To crate the puppy. To crate the puppy more than 20 hours a day in
their tiny apartment. That is how "Dog" spent the first year of her
life.

A lady heard this story, and she went to investigate. She found "Dog"
underweight, matted, and crusted with her own feces. She was so
horrified that she offered to buy "Dog." The young couple demanded five
hundred dollars. She went to the nearest ATM and got the money. The man
said only "Goodbye, Dog. Now you won't have to live in a box anymore."
And the lady took Dog home.

Dog was washed, and fed, loved and loved on and loved some more. Dog
spent a month with the lady. But the lady knew she couldn't keep Dog.
She had a ten-dog kennel license that she used for rescues, and her
home was full up. So she went on Craigslist, and she advertised Dog as
available. She got over 200 inquiries about Dog. I wrote to her, and
told the story of Allis Chompers, and about how we had a loving home to
offer. She called us. She asked "Do you want to see a picture of her?"
I said "I don't care if she has three legs, I am looking for family."
So we were invited over. We went to visit her and Dog, who now had a
name. The lady named Her Loki, who was a mischievous Norse god. It was
a great name for the former "DOG", who is full of beans. A ball of
energy. We took Loki home with us. She was a Christmas present. The
lady kindly gave her to us, free of charge.

And now we are a family. Loki has had to learn how to be a normal dog.
Free, and with a huge yard to roam in...forest and swamps and grass to
roll in. She is spending her very first Spring free, free to lie in the
sunshine and doze. Her life here is something that she couldn't even
imagine, in her life as "Dog." There are many of the little stuffed
toys she loves to carry around in her mouth. There is no crate. There
will never be a crate. Never.

There are ferrets, and she finds them very interesting but she is
*never* allowed to run free when they do. They sniff one another
through cage bars, but when the ferrets are free in the house she is
locked in the bedroom with a stuffy or two, maybe a bone. I have had
too many bad experiences with ferrets and dogs. I love them both, and
this is the way it has to be. Allis killed a ferret once, my beloved
Ping is He and I will never, ever, allow something like that to happen
again. I was raised by a Quaker, and raised to believe in the ideal of
"the Peaceable Kingdom, where the lion will lie down with the lamb."
It is a beautiful ideal and oh, if only it were possible. Not in my
experience. Dogs are wolves. They do not read the Scriptures. Loki is a
sweet girl, and perhaps I will be forgiven if I make a double take when
I see her lying in Allis Chomper's beautiful green velvety chair. I
still expect to see someone else there. I think that I always will.

I will always *want* to be the person who can believe in and realize
"the Peaceable Kingdom." I want to see the lamb lie down with the lion,
free from envy or desire. But Todd and Caff-Pow are weasels, and Loki
is a wolf. My sweet wolf, smiling up at the sun and panting her joy. I
am older now, and wiser. My wolf and my weasels shall never meet. I
try to give them all good lives, and respect their strengths, their
weaknesses. I have enough love to spread far and wide. Enough for all.
Thank you Lord. I am a ridiculous creature, but conceived in love and
loving all creatures, great and small.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 7058]