What in the world? Did everyone just wake up one day and decide to kick
the dog ... er wolf? Good lord. I got screwed, rescrewed and tatooed!
No KY. No Astroglide. Nuthin.

The first time needs some background to understand why I got screwed.
Remember the little white peanut thing I was fostering for Karen
Douglas? Rosalina Renee. I couldn't say anything because I didn't want
Karen to worry so much, but that little thing was a tiny Einstein
packaged up in a teeny body. I'm not used to tiny ferrets. I've never
had that one tiny. And never one that ... smart. Each day she was
behind some sort of calamity and I spent time on the phone whining to
Renee about it day after day. I had to stop venting to my friend Robin
because she called me a "ferret wussy". "The great Wolfy, whoooooooo
woulda thought. A ferret wussy." Well, she didn't get it. This little
peanut thing was determined to escape or get herself killed. "Oh but I
do get it. Any real ferret person knows that whenever there is a true
trouble maker and an extra smart one ... its those tiny white females.
Slame the book?!" Arg.

Then one day, she didn't just try. Wee Rosie found a way to wedge her
tiny peanut head in the crack of a cabinet and hung herself upside
down. Just by a coincidence Chet found her. About oh, 3 minutes before
her heart got thready and she stopped breathing. Sean took his post by
the door and didn't say a word. He knows his limits with autism. And he
knows he can help with the phone, errands, but communication during an
emergency is not quite possible. I was trying to calm Rosie and support
her body. Chet did most of the work trying to extract her. And Scott
took his post pacing in and out of the bathroom, pulling his hair
and cursing. Back to the near death experience. When Rosie stopped
breathing, Chet flipped the hammer around that he was trying to use to
take the cabinet apart, and used the claw like an ax and just starting
hacking at it. We were all trying to duck from the flying pieces. She
was still stuck. I told him this was it ... she was dying. He dropped
the hammer, tried his best to pull the wood apart, and I figured ..
well she's dead where she lies anyway, I have to try "something". I
pushed and pulled and thought that I literally felt her bones crunch
as her head slid out. I would have thrown up if I wasn't so intent on
getting her to come back to us. She revived without incident. Yup.
So glad that heart attack baby is gone. But were we? That much of a
personality and presence left a huge gaping hole in the family. Renee
to the rescue. For Christmas, Renee said she'd pick out a DMK baby
especially for me. I was so excited and I nervously put forth
prerequisites. Female. Hyper. Young. And please, most important ...
not so bright or too tiny. We don't need another heart attack baby in
the house. "Uh huh, uh huh", she said, "Yew want a female, one that
will get along with Shenanigins, full of life ... and stupid."

"RENEE!" "Well, that's whut yew waaaaaaaant, a dumb ferret. I can dew
thaaaaaat." Good lord. Lol. In any case, I thought how special that my
good friend would hand pick a baby to match my personality. I was all a
flutter!!! I just knew she was going to be perfect. Well, time passed
and I was only given a detail here or there about her no matter how I
asked. The night before, I found out why. This new ferret is TINIER
than Rosie the Rivetor, brilliant, ... and a nut. Oh how Renee, Cindy,
et al laaaaaaaaughed it up over pancakes that night at IHOP. I went to
bed shaking. I wasn't even offered a cigarette afterwards.

The next morning. I woke up the FML and some yahoo anonymous person
said that I drive slave labor camps and abuse animals here. Oh "They
don't want to slam me or anything ..." but they feel it's the FML's
business to know. I'm sure ole anonymous will say to me, "I did not use
any names, how full of yourself you must be to think I'd give all that
effort and time just to rip you a new one. Like I don't have a life".
Well, I assure you, there are no wrinkly prune paws here in this house.
Not to argue with you or anything. Well. I assure you, I"m tougher than
that, Miss Anonymous. I pulled up my pants and moved on.

Ohhhhhhhhh but it gets better. When I picked up my new DMK youngin'
that day from one said Dave and Sue, they treated Sean and I to a
lunch. At Cracker Barrel. Wow. What nice people. First they drive my
ferret to me, then they feed me. I thought this was a good enough time
to make up for being screwed twice. Then ... the tattooing commenced.
I thought Dave looked like a cute mountain man with a dashing hat. But
as he turned to the casheir, I saw his face change. I listened in and
he in all seriousness said to her something to the effect of, "I didn't
know if you might be interested if one of your patrons was stealing
silverware." She said back to him, "Well, yes! Really?" He nodded
quietly and said, "Taking it right off the table, so I thought I should
say something." The woman seemed shocked, and I quickly saw where this
was going. "You're serious ... oh boy .... where ..." That's when it
happened. The cuddly man in the dashing hat, slowly turned ... and
looked my way. Sue? Where was Sue? She left! She saw him start the
tattoo session and she ran off making like she was looking at some
little girls pink furry necklace get-up on the shelves! The cashier
repeated herself, but this time skeptically, "Are you seeeerious???"
He once again, turned from her and just stared at me, looked back to
her, and then leaned over and said, "I don't think she's like ...
the rest of us..."

Dave. Tattoo artist extraordinairre.

Wolfy

[Posted in FML 5843]