[Moderator's note: Todd received permission to post this on the FML
from the author of this article.  Way to go Todd!
 
This was posted in two parts -- they've been combined into one. BIG]
 
The following story was in my local newspaper today.  The author
just reported the story and made no comment as to the care of the ferret.
Please do not flame him.  I have removed the last name of the person and
where they worked, to maintain her privacy.  This article is in two parts.
 
By Jeff Hawkes, Intelligencer Journal Staff, Lancaster, PA,
Thursday, August 27, 1998
 
The escapades of adventurous Sneaky Stinky
 
Stinky, for all his adorable, cuddly looks, was an ornery little ferret.
He bit and scratched and had Brooke wondering last summer if she had made
a mistake.  "He was lunging at my face," said Brooke, 21, whose hands were
repeatedly cut by her new pet.  "I've had pets my whole life.  My animals
always loved me back."
 
Ferrets are long, slinky animals related to weasels.  Inquisitive,
mischievous rascals, they are as different from cats and dogs as cats and
dogs are different from each other.  Brooke was drawn to their distinctive,
irresistible style, with their soft, luxurious coats and heartbreaking eyes
staring out from raccoon-like masks.  She resolved to tame her 8-week-old
kit.  To cure Stinky of nipping, Brooke sprayed her hands with a
foul-tasting substance.  Stinky just bit her someplace else.  Another ferret
owner suggested squirting Stinky with water, but Brooke figured Stinky would
consider it a game.  Hitting Stinky was also out of the question.  It would
only teach him to strike back.  "You have to be patient and loving," Brooke
said of training ferrets, "even when they are not loving you."
 
Taming Stinky
 
So Brooke had Stinky's front paws declawed and started a behavior
modification technique of pressing a finger against his tongue each time he
bit.  She also gave him time-outs in his cage.  But mostly she lavished
Stinky with love and attention.  She started taking him with her wherever
she went.  Brooke carried Stinky in an open purse as she walked downtown,
dined out or shopped.  Stinky would pop his head out, delighting everyone
he encountered.  "My friends thought I had lost it," Brooke said.  But the
attention worked.  In a matter of months Stinky was so tame Brooke gave him
the run of the house.  Stinky wasn't much for cuddling, but he stuck close
to Brooke.  He licked her toes when she stepped out of the shower.  He was
under her feet when she cooked.  He crawled into a shoe when se got dressed.
Stinky charmed Brooke with his endearing soft cooing and his silly backwards
dance.  Even his mischief didn't seem so bad.  He stole things, hid food all
over the place and knocked dirt from a planter onto Brooke as she slept.
"They're just so curious, just constantly into things," Brooke said.  "Their
curiosity overrides their intelligence.  That's the thing that gets them
into trouble."
 
Losing Stinky
 
Eight nights ago, a Wednesday, Stinky escaped.  Brooke figures he slinked
past as she entered her downtown apartment.  Distraught, Brooke posted about
100 signs around town, offering a reward for Stinky's return.  But as the
days passed, Brooke started to think Stinky was gone for good.  Ferrets
don't survive long on their own.  They don't hunt.  And city traffic poses
a constant threat.  Brooke, a manicurist and a waitress, cried and moped.
She went to a pet store and looked at ferrets.  But she didn't want another
ferret.  She wanted Stinky.  Monday night, a miracle happened.  Brooke
checked her answering machine, and a woman named Naomi said she had her
ferret.  Brooke went right over to the Pershing Avenue home full of
children.  The family said they found Stinky in the 200 block of East
Orange Street.  He was running with a cat and almost got hit by a car.
"Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!" Brooke gushed.  She tried to give them
money, but they refused.  Stinky looked no worse for wear.  Brooke gave him
a bath and he slept soundly.  "He's pleased with himself," said Brooke,
cradling Stinky and rubbing his ears.  "He got his little walkabout."  She
imagined him asking, "What took you so long, Mom?"  "Because you're a punk,"
she told him.  "That's why."
 
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Todd and the (Hey...when do *we* get to be in the news?) Fuzzbutt Rodeo
Clowns!
 
Todd and the (Misti is lost...check lost and found!) Fuzzbutt Rodeo Clowns!
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[Posted in FML issue 2415]