Fuzzie Dad wonders how a backyard can be ferret-proofed since it is dirt
and ferrets do tunnel.  Good point, and precisely why I sit outside and
count to at least five over and over and over, while keeping track of which
one went back in the house to scoot through the blankets on my bed to dry
off and sometimes to remove mud from the fur, so I then can count to four
until five returns for more.
 
When I first started letting them play in the yard, I too felt it would
just be a matter of time before the obsession with getting on the other
side of the block walls would kick in and make it too dangerous and we
would be back to leashes.  That's one of the different behaviors that has
me so amazed.  They aren't digging near the walls; they aren't exhibiting
the usual escape behaviors in the back yard, or in the house anymore, for
that matter.  This doesn't mean that I believe it won't happen; that's why
I walk the perimeter of the yard every day checking for any trouble spots,
and why I can count to five faster than anyone I know.
 
My husband also periodically demolishes their tunnels that they have so
intricately dug when he does his yard work.  The first time he did this,
I warned him that the little clowns would definitely find a way to get
back at him, and that I felt he should wear steel-toed shoes for a while!
I felt so sorry for the crew the next time they trudged over to their
tunnel only to find it had been destroyed.  Surprise number two: they were
dancing with such joy because the dirt seemed new and different, it was
hard for them to settle down enough to dig in the manner that Rusty the
"tunnel engineer" has trained them to do.
 
It seems that there is so much that interests them in the yard, and their
short attention spans come in handy too, that they dig for a few seconds,
stop to inspect a leaf that blows by, chase each other through a tunnel,
pop up, dig, run to the grass and wrestle, jump around on the pool cover,
and then make their way back to digging.  If they were disappearing into
a tunnel for more than a minute, I would be worrying.
 
I do, however, keep a constant eye on them; I am always on the lookout for
dangerous situations developing because after all, they are ferrets.  I am
not advocating outside free roam to anyone.  When I originally posted about
ferret-proofing the backyard, it was simply to share the amazing behavior
changes I have observed in all five during the last six months with people
who would understand what I'm talking about.
 
For my particular furry bunch, I think it's the best thing I ever did.
Rusty, the chronic carpet digger and escape artist, has evolved into a
dream ferret and has learned that an outstretched hand is a good thing.
And my girls!  Little Sparky, who spent the first three years of her life
locked in a wire-bottomed cage and didn't have enough muscle tone to walk
straight when she came to us, now bounces and climbs like the little
athlete she was meant to be.  And tiny Cleo, who spent her days in WET
pine litter in her cage for so long that the pads on her feet were bright
red and painfully swollen, with green nails so rotted that they would
crumble when I trimmed them, now romps in the grass without any indication
of the pain she was exhibiting when she blessed us with her presence.
Watching my three little refugees enjoy the backyard freedom is what makes
freezing my rear off a pleasure.  I admit, I am a sucker for the sight of
five little heads lined up at the sliding glass door, ten little eyes
looking up at me with anticipation, and five bouncing bodies trying to be
first out the door.
 
Posted anonymously to protect the innocent in CA
[Posted in FML issue 2972]