>personally don't like the thought of feeding live anything and so this
>would not be an issue in our home. I have read about animals that had to
>be taught to hunt after being fed killed prey all their lives. Is this
>the same issue with ferrets?
 
At the risk of being flamed about this I'm going to tell you of my
experiences w/ my ferrets and prey.  Compared to some people I've had
exposure to lots of ferrets and to others mine would only be a drop in
the bucket.  In this case I do have some experience.
 
About 2 years ago I agreed to take a throw away ferret from another club
member who couldn't bear to treat a deathly ill ferret so close to the
death of one of her own ferrets.  Within a week I had her operated on to
get rid of some latex out of her tummy at which time a bad adrenal was
removed.
 
Eponine never really much interest in eating after the first weekend
after surgery.  I had to force feed her for four months.  When her
stitches came out I started taking her outside figuring that the luscious
smells would encourage her to exercise more and she might regain some use
of her hind legs.  Let me say it worked.  Big time.  Nothing is funnier
than watching an excited ferret w/ no hind leg strength to 0speak of
running in place.  I laughed until I cried.  Long before Eponine was
willing to eat kibble, she began hunting in the yard.  She regularly
ingested insects.  Being the person that I am (scientific over
fastidious) I stood back and watched.  The two most incredible kills were
a cicada (she literally flipped the darn thing over and starting eating
its insides while it was still alive.  In fact, she stopped eating when
the thing stopped moving!  The other incredible kill was a hornet, of
which she ingested everything but the legs.
 
I let my email group know about it and some were appalled while others
thought it was fascinating that this frail blinded-by-cataracts ferret
had the hunting instincts of a wild lioness.
 
Many of you might remember Shiloh, my darling first ferret.  The first
time I saw her ingest a bug was when I was laying on the floor reading
and swatted a fly that was annoying me.  I kept glancing at it, wishing
it would go away or I'd have to get off my tummy and get some tissue to
clean it up because I was tired of looking at it.  About this time Shiloh
wandered over, sniffed it solemnly and walked off.  I sighed.  Moments
later she was back and in one mouthful dispatched my dead fly.
 
Because of our neighborhood's age there are lots of waterbugs that visit
for a large part of the year.  Both Eponine and Shiloh would routinely
hunt them.  Nobody else was interested.  Didn't even seem to notice they
were there.  Granted, the latest 5 (long story) haven't had an
opportunity to be exposed to these delectable ferret diet morsels, but
with the odds I've experienced, only one will be interested.
 
Sometimes when animals are domesticated a dormant wild gene appears.  I
think the hunting instinct is that way.  I certainly didn't teach my kids
to do it, but do it they do/did.  (Eponine died 5 weeks after my beloved
Tess, summer of 2001 was truly dreadful.)
 
Pat and the Furry Inspirations
[Posted in FML issue 3938]