Holiday weekend, so today I'm playing a little 'hookey' from all the
supposedly more 'useful,' 'necessary' stuff I'm supposed to be doing and
luxuriating in some personal indulgence: high on the list being to read all
those back FMLs I've been saving.  Of course, a couple hours' solid
FML-reading will result in a touch of emotional exhaustion (don't know about
the rest of you guys, but reading tales of losses or sad/bad things
happening to sweet fuzzies ALWAYS brings tears to my eyes...), but also
results in some pent-up need for ferret-oriented communication, so (with
apologies in advance on the length of this post, BIG!!!) here goes:
 
CHRIS:
Re: Squirrel's 'licky, licky, lick ... BITE!' thing -- I had at least one
fertie, Winnifred (a.k.a.  Woolie), who later in life acquired this
fascination with forearms, where she would go from seemingly casual
lick-your-arm-because-it's-there, to increasingly frenzied licking, followed
by biteyness.  We were never sure why she did this ... was it just a touch
of 'dementia' due to her many medical problems and aging?  We'll never know.
But we didn't punish.  We simply diverted, or short-circuited the behavior
pattern, in that once we'd observed the progression, we'd just intervene
each time with a little diversionary stuff, such as moving her from that
particular arm, or showing her a game, or just setting her down on the floor
instead of letting the 'frenzy' develop.  You mention, too, that Squirrel is
just a baby, so I'd suspect it's just another nippy-baby thing.  If this is
her only nippy-pattern as a baby, then sounds like she's got a long 'windup'
before the 'punch' (bitey part of the behavior), so you should consider
yourself fortunate that it fits a clear pattern with which you can intervene.
 
LAURA
Re: Singing to my ferrets!  -- I thought I was the only loopy who sang to
the ferrets.  I don't sing to anyone else, and am certainly no singer, but
they just seem to bring it out.  Maybe it's a natural human response to the
loving, gleeful, expansive feeling you get when in the company of ferties!
When I sing to Winona, she just gazes at me, wide-eyed and sort of
mesmerized-like.  Maybe she's simply apalled!
 
SHEENA
Re: brazen mousies!  -- We, too, (esp.  now coming up on cooler weather)
experience an influx of brazen mousies to our living space.  We had thought
before that just the scent of the ferties'd keep those mousies at bay, but
N*O*T !  We actually bring it up as just one more example of how gentle and
domesticated pet ferts have become, and it illustrates how badly they'd fare
if thrown out into the 'wild' to fend for themselves.  If it's not a kibble
or a water-bottle, they don't know what to do with it (unless it's a little
bug, I guess).  Our dear little fuzzie-kins are no longer 'great hunters,'
for the most part.  This means we are now obligated to care for them.
 
TRACY
Re: quarantine -- Ever since we got our second fert, we have always observed
a strict two-week quarantine on incoming ferts, no matter what their origin:
pet shop or shelter: with esp. no contact with new fert's litterbox or
anything. This was on the recommendation of our vet, who just about read me
the riot act the first time I told him we'd brought our new (at that time,
second-ever) fuzzie home and had already exposed the first one to direct
contact. I have always wondered how the shelters deal with this!
 
ADRIENNE
Re: Little Nikita's adrenal situation.  Each case is different.  Our oldest
boy, William (who we love so much we can hardly stand it) at about 7 1/2
years (and having been through surgery twice) is now back to the symptoms of
his adrenal tumor.  His once lovely fur-suit is now 'shot,' but his dear
little face is still fuzzie, and he still looks at us with the same
quizzical/sage dark shiny eyes as always.  We love him profoundly and tell
him every day (several times), just what a pretty boy he is, too, even
though he now looks more like a naked mole-rat.  Our fert-vet of nine years,
and who considers little 'Wills' as his own namesake, has evaluated the
fur-boy and we have thought about it long and hard... and decided NOT to
intervene again with surgery.
 
Wills is now on a maintenance dose of Prednisone, which has greatly improved
his energy level and so he is having a wonderful little ferret time, being
fed lovely, fat chicken baby food twice a day in addition to his vities and
treats and Petromalt (sshhh, don't tell 'em it's good for 'em!) and all his
good, regular favorite foods.
 
He is our most beloved boy, the last of our first three, and we WILL be sad
*beyond measure* (as we were to say goodbye to Gwen and to Woolie) when it
is time for him to not be a fert any more, but instead be curiosing the
tunnel to the Rainbow Bridge.  But we have made the decision, and he is a
not-good candidate for surgery which would probably not prolong his life any
more one way or the other.
 
This was NOT an economic decision.  Despite VERY tight $$, we have been
known to spend (on one occasion of emergency hospitalization, followed by
three days of intensive care) in excess of $1,200 on a fertie (Woolie),
(---oh, God, just put it on the 'plastic,' and we'll deal with that
LATER!'--) which saved her life and added nearly a year for her.  And would
do it again in a SECOND for her or for Wills, too, if we thought it'd be, on
balance, the best for the boy... Meantime, William is happy, comfy,
pain-free (this is MOST important!), playful, and wondering what all the
'fuss' is about and all the doting kisses and extra play-fun, and why his
mommy sometimes just sits quietly and simply watches him... (lookin' at him
lookin' at me...) taking in all the cuteness, trying to save some up for
'later,' when it's all gone and all we have are the memories.
 
In short, Adrienne: make YOUR best decision and then simply love your little
fertie.
 
Apologies again to BIG.
[Posted in FML issue 1679]