Q:"I'm from your Ca Ca Land and my ferrets love to roll around in the warm
dusty dirt but we were told some of the squirels here have the bubonic
plague and I am afraid our ferrets can catch it.  Should we get them
shots?"
 
A: Sure, but be sure to get a designated dooker, especially if the shots
are Tequilla with Corona chasers.  Not that I would know...
 
Ah, the infamous California ground squirrel; California's version of the
praire dog.  Scourge of the irrigation canal.  Gotta love 'em.  We had tons
of them at our place in Mariposa, and every once in a while a state
biologist would trap some and check them for traces of Yersinia pestis, the
little bug responsible for the black death, the plague that killed millions
during the Middle Ages (at least my ancestors survived).  Bubonic plague
(or sylvatic plague) is transmitted to humans by the bite of an infected
flea, which lives on the squirrels, and those fleas can and do transmit the
disease to humans.  As well as dogs and other animals.
 
As for the ferrets getting the plague from rolling around in the dirt,
won't happen.  Won't even happen if they go down the burrow and play with
the squirrels.  Which they shouldn't do, but not because of the plague but
because ground squirrels lack any appreciable sense of humor.  And probably
won't even happen if they get bit by the fleas.  Ferrets appear to be
immune to the plague.  Not just ferrets, but polecats in general, including
our beloved black-footed ferrets.  And it's no accident; the ancestors of
our domesticated ferrets hunted prey in burrows, including rats, rock and
ground squirrels, bunnies and prairie dogs.  All these species can and do
act as hosts for fleas infected with Yersinia pestis, which means the
ancestors of the ferret were constantly exposed to it.  Our ferret's
immunity to the plague is a direct result of natural selection.  So let
your little guys roll around in as much dirt as they like; if any pet is
going to get the plague, it will be your hound dog.  Or maybe your cat.  Or
you, but not your ferret.
 
Q:"...You know so much, I can't help put ask if you ever do dumb things
like the rest of us?"
 
A: Dumb? Not at all. I prefer to do really stupid embarassing stuff.
 
I do them all the time.  One of the dumbest things I've done lately is to
have confused two of my ferret's names.  It was Lady Noir and Jezabel, who
resemble each other only slightly in color, but a great deal in size and
general appearance.  See, when I left last fall for the northwest, Jezabel
was light and Lady N was dark.  When I returned, they were about the same
size and I naturally assumed the dark one was Lady N.  Imagine my confusion
when a neutered Jezabel went into serious big-time heat.  Jezabel is now
*very* dark, and Lady N has lightened up considerably.  Imagine Jezabel's
confusion to be called one name, then another, then the first one again.
Oops...I only did it for two months....
 
Another really dumb thing happened last week.  I was taking some pain meds
and muscle relaxants for my poor ol' rotator cuff, and was feeling...tired
when I went to bed.  I was brushing my teeth when I suddenly realized the
toothpaste was not very minty.  In fact, I couldn't quite place the taste
until I inspected the tube.  You guessed it.  Nutrical.  I was just
thankful it wasn't petromalt....but just think of the jokes I could make.
 
Then there was the great "Ink Pad Incident of 1999." I left my chair too
close to a temporary folding table I use when writing papers (I like the
stuff spread out so I can gloat over my references).  I had used the ink
pad to stamp my name into a couple of new books, and left it on the table.
I went outside to fill the bird feeders and was whistling at cardnals when
Andrew came running out, yelling one of the ferrets had cut their foot
really bad.  I ran to the room and noticed red pawprints all over the
place.  It was like spots before my eyes, ony paw prints.  On closer
inspection, I realized it was red ink.  On the table.  On my wonderful
references and file folders and new books and carpet and chair and you name
it.  My stamp was hiden in the chicken bone hidey hole, and the ink pad was
upside-down on the carpet.  And everyone was covered in red ink.  I spent
the day cleaning it up.  And who started it?  Lady Noir, helped by the Big
Bad Bodacious Bumpkins: Tui, Silly, G.W. and Carbone.
 
Lastly, I can recount many times I checked to see if a ferret was biting
because of play or fear.  Actually, I can recount the puncture bites in my
fingers because I test them "first-hand." Or when I grabbed an old paper
sack, crunched it up and tossed it in the trash, only to see--to my
amazement-- the sack start to roll around on its own.  I had wadded the
sack up with Daye sleeping inside.  Or when I intelligently designed a
beautiful wooden hidey box, only to discover most of my ferrets sleeping in
the black plastic bag I was using to haul away the scraps from my project.
Or when I answered the door and a sweet little old lady was inviting me to
visit her church, when a horrific expression erupted on her face and she
started slowly backing away.  I realized Carbone, asleep in my sweatshirt,
had poked his nose out the top to see what was going on.  The lady has
never returned....
 
Bob C and 19 Mo' Seriously Silly Sofa Sharks (Missing Sandi)
[Posted in FML issue 2599]