This really takes me back.  It was the spring of 1986.  I began working
in a pet store in NY state.  I fell in love with ferrets.  Eventually we
ordered one of our own.  My husband wanted a silver mitt male.  Bojangles
was 8 weeks old.  At the same time a little girl came in.  She was sold
but brought back because she had a runny nose and the lady's vet couldn't
rule out distemper.  She came home with me.  I wasn't going to let that
lady have another chance at her.  By then she was 10 weeks old.  They
were both neutered and descented.
 
Gwennie and Bo lived together for a long time.  We moved to Michigan and
paid the apartment complex a monthly fee, even though they were illegal.
We took them to a vet in Ohio.  Eventually Bo died at age 5.  We aren't
sure what he died from, the necropsy showed cancer, but our vet (by now
in MI) wasn't knowledgeable at the time.  Gwennie lived to be 9.  She had
insulinoma which we treated with surgery and Proglycem.  I miss her.
 
Then we were ferretless.  I am allergic and it seemed best.  Until a
babysitter of ours mentioned she had a ferret (by now legal) which she
thought her mom fed in the basement.  It didn't take long to get Sugar
home.  We figured our house was at least better than that (although by
now we had 4 children).  She was 5 but very sprightly, so home came
Zorro, a foundling from the vet.  Then Duncan came home when I picked up
my cockatoo from an owner who had a baby now, and didn't have time...
another basement.  Sugar lived to be 7 1/2, Zorro and Duncan to 6 or so.
 
Now all we have is two.  In a way we had two beginnings!
 
Jean
[Posted in FML issue 3999]