It's 3am and I'm still up.  My eyes are all dried out and blurry, and
my mind is somewhat numbed.  I've wanted to write something amusing for
awhile now, but I'm not going to be able to achieve "amusing mode" this
morning.  I wish I could.  I really do.  But this morning, as I read the
FML, I find nothing amusing.
 
I hear a noise coming from the cage next to me.  I watch Jaws scratch
himself with his hind leg.  He tumbles off the ledge, as he sometimes
does, onto the carpet at the bottom of the cage.  He has trouble
telling up from down most of the time.  He gets up, shakes it off,
and quizzically looks up at the light, wondering why it's still on.
Sometimes I forget that they need their dark.  The fall wasn't far,
maybe seven inches or so, and no damage was done.  He uses the litter
box, and then he climbs back up to the ledge and proceeds to get a drink
and an early-morning kibble snack.  It is a routine he repeats at least
once every morning.
 
He is my big boy.  Before his illness, he was the protector of the new
guys who would come into the business.  While all the other ferrets would
pick on the new guys, Jaws would protect them when things got rough.
The new guys would end up sleeping next to him, curled up in peace.
About two years ago, he had a stroke (as best we can tell) while he was
recovering from the flu.  His movements are always shaky and unbalanced.
He moves as if he has Parkinson's disease.  He is not a graceful ferret.
But what he lacks in grace, he makes up for in heart.  Every one who
watches him move can tell that he has something wrong with him.  Every
one knows except him.  He goes about his ferret business, incognizant of
his disability.  He plays, he fights, and he even war dances.  His war
dances are both comical and painful to watch.  His zigs do not match his
zags, and he easily loses his footing.  Yet, while his dances are a
reminder that we almost lost him, they are also a reminder that we did
not.  It is in this duality that I take my comfort this morning.
 
I skim the postings in the FML.  Skimming is about all I can take this
morning.  The very first story is about a 26-year-old man who appointed
himself the self-euthanizer of a town in New York.  I try to comprehend
what actually happened, but it makes no sense to me.  The local Humane
Society is overwhelmed with 50 animals taken from this guy's home, but
they are trying.  Amongst the 86 animals this man collected and abused,
is a lone ferret who somehow survived this insanity.  Someone had
apparently turned him in to this man, thinking he would do the right
thing.  I am being optimistic, here.  I'm not sure that they were
thinking at all.
 
I read a little further down.  A NJ shelter is going to put down a female
ferret if they cannot come up with the funds for her adrenal surgery.
And not only are they going to put this ferret down, but they will be
putting her brother down too.  Why?  Because without her, he would have a
broken heart.  They would put down a healthy ferret because of a "broken
heart?" This is a ferret shelter?  I understand being in a hard place and
needing funds, but I don't understand this line of thinking in the least.
I hope this is just a ploy for money, instead of the desperate insanity
it seems to be.  I cannot conceive in my mind that they would actually do
this.
 
A little further down I read about Fuzz, a ferret with a beautiful mask.
His dad is grieving his loss after a sudden illness.  His dad originally
found him outside his doorstep in a cage, abandoned on a hot day.
Somehow Fuzz found his way to a good place.  His dad saw the beauty in
him.  How does one person see a life as meaningless and another see it
as a thing of meaning, and a thing of beauty?
 
I start to think on these things.  I realize that no matter what I do, I
can't stop these kinds of things from happening.  I imagine all the acts
of thoughtlessness and cruelty going on at this very moment, and the
overwhelming sadness of it starts to weigh down on me.  I take a sip of
my tea and close my eyes, and let it go as best I can.  And then it comes
to me...
 
We are all doing Jaw's war dance, moving through this life shaky and
unbalanced.  We stumble and lose our footing, but then we stand back up,
shake it off, and continue.  We lose our sense of up and down, our zigs
do not match our zags, and yet we take heart and continue.  We comfort
and protect, and even when we need comfort and protection ourselves, we
still continue.  All our misjudgments and imperfections are forgotten in
the war dance of continuance.
 
It is early and silent here.  I look at the cage and see Jaws curled
around Cubby, still "protecting" him.  I think of all the ferrets that
need protection.  It is a weight I will never be able to lift by myself.
It is a weight that no one will ever be able to lift completely.  So I
get out of my computer chair, make myself some eggs over easy, and fix
myself some tea.  I am alive and I need my nourishment.  The sun is
coming up, and I have war dancing to do.
 
Roary
Albuquerque, NM
http://ferretphilosophy.blogspot.com
[Posted in FML issue 4961]