As our scene opens, it is a bright, sterling morning in New England.
The rain has moved on, and the air is fragrant with fresh grass and
warm earth. Dragonflies buzz here and there like colorful, prehistoric
helicopters and alight on the high bush blueberry, looking for prey.
The neighbourhood's cardinal couple swing on the birdfeeder, the male
a slash of scarlet that makes me envy the drab female. She must have
somethin' goin' on to bind him to her! He is so very, very red, and
his yellow beak is just the color of a black eyed susan's petals.
This is the kind of day that makes you feel younger, stronger, and
so fundamentally grateful to see it that you wither in shame for one
instant, just an instant that reminds you how often you take life for
granted. Then the moment passes, and you raise your face to the warm
sun and all bad feelings are burned away in its celestial furnace.

Inside the Sargent-Colburn household it's quiet, still, and shady. The
ferret room is still cool from the dawn's dew, and the loudest sound
is the crunch of kibble, as Todd the Butter-Butt (now slender at
summer-weight) squats down in front of the cage's J-feeder and helps
himself to breakfast. From the soft blue paisley hammie on the top
level comes a sigh. It is Todd's companion Caff-Pow. He sighs again, a
bit lounder with more than a hint of melodrama to it. Todd never stops
crunching.

"You *could* at least come back to the hammie and snuggle me some more,
Uncle Todd. Or groom me. Or something." said Caff-Pow.

Todd stopped his breakfasting for an instant, just long enough to say
"You'll be fine. Get over yourself." Then the crunching resumed.

"But you don't understand! You were just a little kit when you got
neutered. You don't even remember it. My 'nads were so big and
handsome! I had plans."

"Plans!" scoffed Todd, who stopped crunching and regarded Caff-Pow with
a glare that furrowed the older ferret's brow. Todd's ears hitched back
a notch and he licked the kibble crumbs from his whiskers.

"Yes, plans!" said Caff-Pow, who switched his tail excitedly like a
little puppy as he closed his eyes and reminisced. "I was going to
musk the whole house to let the girls know I was on the market and
available. I was going to musk both sofas, too. And the dog's
armchair."

"Huh!" grunted Todd. You think the hoomins didn't know about those
plans? That's why they neutered you, little buddy. That and the way you
jumped up onto the buffet table the other night and knocked over the
hoomin's family photographs and all the glass they were framed in."

"Yeah," chuckled Caff-Pow. "That *was* cool!"

"*That* got you snipped, kid."

At that Caff-Pow huffed sulkily, and turned over in the hammie, showing
Todd his back. Todd simply turned back to the J-feeder, and resumed
crunching.

Caff-Pow gave another one of his dramatic sighs and said proudly "The
vet said that I weighed three and a half-pounds!"

Todd chewed his last mouth full of kibble thoughtfully, and considered.
He turned to look at his young compantion and asked conversationally
"Was that before she neutered you or after?"

Caff-Pow's head whipped around to give Todd a scorching glare. Todd
just chuckled, darkly. With an economy of movement Caff-Pow turned in
the hammie and burrowed into the sleep sack. Several inches of tail
hung from the opening. After a few moments his muffled voice issued
from the sack. He said with an icy calm "Well, I can still *poof*,
you know. Do you know? Would you LIKE to know, Uncle Todd?"

Slowly, Todd left the J-feeder and climbed up into the soft blue
paisley hammie, the one that came with Caff-Pow from his Devore Mommy
back when Caff-Pow lived with her and his his ferret Mommy, Val, and
all of his brothers and sisters. Todd slithered noiselessly into the
sleep sack, only his back feet and tail protruding. A final kick, and
both feet disappeared. Two tails hung out of the opening.

There was a minute of silence. Finally Todd's muffled voice replied
simply "Nope."

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 6390]