Hi fml'ers . . .
 
I got a call from a woman who had to put her ferret to sleep last weekend.
They'd had this little guy for something like 8 years, and she was very
sad.  She's not interested in having more ferrets right now, but she saw my
shelter advertisement at the vet's office and is donating two bags of food
to the shelter.  Very kind.
 
So far I love my new job at United Healthcare.  All of us in training are
going to be on the same work team, and none of them are ferret people.  In
fact, they think I'm a little crazy because I talk about my ferrets all the
time.  Tee-hee.  We're all a little crazy, right?  That's what I told them--
that ferret people are a little nuts, but we're also a lot of fun, and very
very good at coming up with creative solutions to problems.  It's learned
creativity, I think, learned from thwarting our fuzzies on their quest to
dominate the world.  When we met the rest of the team (about 20 people)
part of my introduction was to inform them that if anybody needs ferrets,
I'm the person to see, and that they don't know it yet but everybody NEEDS
a ferret.  Ok, that doesn't mesh with shelter protocol, but it was funny,
and half of them (more than half, actually) were looking at me like I'm
half-crocked, but all of them laughed.
 
I've papered my cubicle with the photos from the 1998 Ferret Calendar and
a few people *not* on my team have noticed and popped in to talk about
ferrets.  Very cool.  My screen saver bounces around "I luv ferrets" and
one of my team members set his up to read, "I love ferrets, too . . . wanna
trade recipes?"   He begs *not* to hear the ferret story of the day, so
every morning I watch the fuzzies and come up with a little story, and head
straight into his cubicle first thing.  It's all good natured.
 
Thursday morning I was brushing my hair upside down (I know you women know
what I'm talking about, and guys that live with women ought to know) and
Ziggy and Zoey the shelters were hanging out on the floor at my feet.
Every time the brush got to the end of my hair, one of them would grab it.
I was laughing so hard -- and that's a good thing at 7 am!
 
Other news . . . I probably mentioned the friend of a friend that moved in
with us in December . . . well, my boyfriend's ex-wife's daughter moved in
with us last weekend.  Now theres no room at the inn.  It's weird.  Dave
and I have lived alone with our animals for almost 7 years, and suddenly
have a house-full, including a 20 year old teen-ager who borrows the car
and stays out till all hours of the night and doesn't do dishes.  Actually,
I don't mind her, she's had a lot of tough breaks, including losing her
father at 12, and she's a good kid who desperately needs some attention,
direction, and stability.
 
Take care everybody, hugs and kisses to your fuzzies, tears for lost and
sick fuzzies.
 
--Sheri
[Posted in FML issue 2558]