This is the story of Little White Girl-- my first rescue!
 
I have been ferretless and petless for more than a year, mourning the
loss of my dear little sable girl Weezie, who died from adrenal disease
last March.  For reasons beyond my control, I was unable to adopt another
pet during this time, and things were really, really hard for me.  I
can't begin to describe the loneliness, a huge overwhelming empty hole of
despair that only a little weasel heart could fill.  I planted lavender,
yarrow and scented geraniums in her little garden, and watered it every
day.  I put a sleeping angel there to watch over her.  I cried nearly
every night, missing the little one who used to sleep by my foot and cover
me with morning kisses.  Weezie eventually visited me in a dream, and
some of the pain lifted.  And I would often remember the afternoon (a few
months before Weezie's death) that I actually saw the image of a small
white ferret running through my room and around the corner to the
bathroom, where the litterbox was.  When I followed it and looked into
the bathroom, there was nothing there.  I was never sure of what I'd had
seen, or why it had appeared to me.
 
And then...
 
Just last month, my room-mate and I finally had the chance to take a train
ride south and visit his sister and brother-in-law.  We had heard that the
neighbors had ferrets, and we were dying to meet them.  We asked about
them, and learned that there was only one left.
 
We went next door to meet the ferret.  And oh, what did we see!  A little
white girl in a big dirty cage, sleeping in a filthy hammock.  There were
no blankies, no toys, nothing to crawl under or hide in.  Just a big cage
with two very, very nasty-looking hammocks.  There was a lot of poop on
the cage floor, which was where the food and water dishes were.  The
feeder was one of those bin-feeder things, and it looked pretty dirty (at
least there was some food in it).  There was water in the water bowl too,
but leaves were floating in it, and it did not look clean.
 
The owner woke her up by pushing on her hammock, and she fell out of the
hammock (three floors high) and landed on the floor.  He handed her over
to me.  She was a slender little DEW with burgundy eyes.  Scattered
throughout her white coat were many black hairs.  She was missing an arm.
Two years ago a raccoon had gotten to the cage and had mauled her arm so
badly that it had to be amputated.  Now the little girl's cage was in a
part of the yard which was guarded by the dogs, who seemed to be very
protective of her.  I took her in my arms and the first thing she did
was nip my bare arm.  I petted her a little and handed her over to my
room-mate.  She mouthed him and then leaned up to give him a kiss on the
chin.  He passed her over to his sister, who also got mouthed on the arm.
By this time, the little girl was wiggly, so she was returned to her cage,
where she promptly pooped.
 
The owner told us that he originally had more ferrets, but one by one,
they had died, leaving only two remaining.  The children had never been
contientious about locking the cage, and the ferrets had escaped on
several occasions.  Last year, the little girl's cagemate had managed to
escape and make his way into someone's yard, where he was killed by the
dogs.  Now, this little one was all by herself.  The children had lost
interest in her, and no one ever took her out of the cage or played with
her anymore.  So she just sat in her cage by the back door, day after
day, with only the dogs for company.  The owner could not even remember
her name.
 
He asked me if I wanted her.
 
Oh how I wanted to rescue her right then and there!  But I was dealing
with an agonizing No Pets situation at home, and in any case, we couldn't
take her (not to mention her cage) back with us on the train.  "You can't
rescue every little creature," my room-mate told me as we sadly walked
back to his sister's house.  I couldn't get that little face out of my
mind.  Both of us thought about her all the way home.
 
How could such a beautiful little Being not have a NAME?  Whenever I
spoke of her, I called her Little White Girl.
 
I called the local ferret rescue contact, who was willing to take her,
but it was clear that she was already overwhelmed and exhausted with many
little needy ones.  And then Little White Girl's owner suddenly changed
his mind.  Now he wanted to give her to one of his son's friends rather
than turn her over to the rescue lady.
 
I was so discouraged.  I didn't know what to do next.  So I prayed-- HARD.
I simply couldn't conceive of a world that would let someone like me into
Little White Girl's life for no purpose whatsoever.  There had to be some
karmic reason that I was brought to her!
 
And then my room-mate's sister called us.  The owner had changed his mind
again.  He would sell us the cage, with Little White Girl in it, for fifty
dollars.  Did we want it?
 
My room-mate had one last "ace" up his sleeve-- one I had been stalling
on for vague reasons-- and he laid it on the table.  Amazingly and
unexpectedly, it WORKED!  Our No Pets situation (which was virtually
set in stone and absolutely rigid) was suddenly NOT a factor anymore!
 
I was so happy that I just came unglued.  My room-mate's sister paid the
owner ahead of time, as he was going out of town for a month.  We took the
car this time and drove down to get our precious new child.  And that's
the FIRST thing we did when we got to town.  Since the owner was gone on
vacation, a neighbor boy helped us hoist the cage over the fence.  My
room-mate set to work cleaning and collapsing the cage, and I put Little
White Girl in a clean travel cage, along with her old food (only eleven
nuggets left!) and a little stuffed dog toy.  When I reached in to put a
water bowl down, she lunged at me and nipped my arm again.
 
I decided not to stick my arm in there anymore.  But I really didn't like
the look of her old food.  So I began hand-feeding her nuggets of Totally
Ferret food through the bars of the cage.  Oh, you should have seen her
wolf them down!  I have NEVER seen any animal eat so voraciously!  She
practically inhaled them!  She just couldn't get enough!  (and here I had
been worrying about how in the world I would manage to switch her food!  I
had no idea what her old food was!) As hungry as she was, she never bit or
even mouthed my fingers.  Gradually she slowed down, and took the nuggets
gracefully and politely in her mouth.  And then she crawled under her new
sweatshirt to go to sleep.
 
I didn't sleep a wink all night, worrying about her.  In the morning I
hand-fed her again.  Everyone came in to admire her, and she regarded
them solemnly with her dark eyes.  She slept all the way home, never
once raising herself up to see where we were going.
 
We got her cage all reassembled, and I added a new sleeping pouch and
hammock.  We covered the narrow shelves with towels and sweatshirts, and
added a few toys.  We put food and water on the top shelf, right near the
sleeping pouch, where it would be easy to reach.  We lined the bottom
with newspaper, since she had made it clear that she had no use for
litterboxes.  And then my room-mate lifted Little White Girl up and put
her in the cage.
 
Oh, if only you could have seen her!  She hurried up all the ramps to the
top floor (you could never tell that she only had three legs) and then
hurried back down, exploring everything.  She rolled the ball and tussled
with the little dog toy.  And then... she began war dancing!  She danced
and danced, with her mouth wide open!  She did somersaults!  She came up
to the side of the cage and stood on her hind legs, looking at us!  She
rolled around several times and ended up on her back, smiling!  And after
playing with her dog a bit, and eating some of her new food, she went to
sleep in her sleeping pouch with her little head sticking out-- just like
a tiny person in bed.  After awhile she curled up deep inside the pouch,
so happy to finally be able to be under something, safe and private in
her very own clean bed!
 
Her cage sits in the living room, so she can be near us.  She can hear us
talking, and listen to the sound of the TV.  We talk to her every time we
walk by the cage, and sometimes we give her treats.
 
Yesterday we took Little White Girl to the vet for vaccinations and an
exam.  She weighs almost two pounds!  Her coat is soft and lustrous, and
her tail is fluffy and full.  Her eyes are shiny and her ears look clean.
She is a Marshall Farms girl, and we estimate her age to be about three
and a half.  She was a good girl and didn't try to nip anyone except when
she was getting her shots (our vet is too fast for her!) The only thing
wrong with her is giardia, which explains the runny little poops.
Amazing-- considering the new information I was given just last night--
her old owner was feeding her DOG FOOD!
 
So now we have nasty-tasting medicine to give her every night for five
days.  She struggles and squirms and spits it all over us, but so far she
hasn't tried to nip either of us during the medicine process.  She still
nips my arm, especially if I am not wearing long sleeves.  It's kind of
scary, since I've always been afraid of biters and never ever thought
I'd have to deal with one.  I tell her "No bite!" in a stern voice, and
hold her close to me, petting her head for a few moments.  I've been
hand-feeding her treats through the bars of the cage, which she takes
carefully and delicately.  She never refuses anything.  She will lick
Ferretvite and Petromalt right off my hand without trying to nip.  Soon
I will begin taking her out of the cage for supervised playtime (on
linoleum).  I think that some day she will be a very good girl.  "She's
a good girl already," my room-mate says.
 
Now she has a name of her very own.  I have named her Tessa.  My room-mate
tells me that it means "Treasure."
 
[JE]
[Posted in FML issue 3824]