That does it! The bells are back on.
 
Normally, Belle and Caruso wear bells (jingle bells on 1/8" elastic, tied in
a fugure 8) to help prevent stepping on them and generally keep track of
their whereabouts.  On our Thanksgiving visit to my brother's house, they
both managed to lose them.
 
So they've been slipping silently about the house lately. No problem, we
thought. Ha! Think again.
 
Caruso has been inordinately interested in the kitchen door which leads to
the garage.  He always wants to see what is out there, and one time spent
several minutes jumping trying to reach the door knob.  If the door isn't
closed all the way, he will pull it open with his claws.  Fortunately, the
storm door prevents his escape.
 
Well, Monday, after I left for work, Richard opened the door to push the
button to close the garage door.  Unbeknownst to him, Caruso took this
opportunity to pussy-foot it out to the garage.  Later, when Richard went to
put the kids back in their cage, Belle was right there dooking about the
kitchen, but Caruso was nowhere to be found.  Well, Richard wasn't too
worried: the kids have a habit of becoming invisible for periods of time.
Usually they later appear after you have spent 30 minutes looking in every
conceivable spot, rattling the raisin can, whistling and calling.  They
stare up at you innocently while you try to figure out where the heck they'd
been hiding.
 
Anyway, I came home from work and pulled the car in the now open garage.  I
sent our daughter Joy to deliver something next door.  After grumbling a
bit, she went out, then came immediately back inside.  "Mom!  Come see this!
QUICK!" There, in the corner near the door, were three piles of ferret poop,
one still very fresh looking.  "Oh my God!  You mean Daddy never found
Caruso?!"
 
Immediately as we realized he was gone, before the pit in my stomach had a
chance to settle in, there he was peering at us from under the car. He came
quickly to our call, and just wanted to be held for the next half hour.
 
All in all, I think Caruso's survival skills were pretty good.  He didn't
wander off even though the garage door was open for a couple hours, he kept
the garage tidy by pooping in one corner.  ("Tidy garage"--there's an
oxymoron for you!) And he even found drinking water in the form of a gallon
jug of water which he made drinking holes in with his sharp canines.  (Side
story: We rinse out gallon milk jugs and Richard fills them with water to
take to his art studio behind the house.  It took him 3 punctured jugs
leaking water on the kitchen floor 3 different times to learn that Caruso
was not to be let near them.  And then Richard took the little bugger to
Drug Mart to pick up some milk one evening.  Richard put the milk on the
floor in the back of the car, and Caruso on the seat next to him.  Caruso
did not stay on the seat, but made a beeline for the milk jug.  Richard came
rushing into the house, dribbling milk.  "Quick!  I need an empty jug!"
Sigh...  these humans never learn...  Now back to our regularly scheduled
story.)
 
Belle checked Caruso out pretty closely, sniffing him all over. She fussed
over him more than when he came home from the hospital for his neutering.
And the last three evenings, when they have tuckered from their evening
romps, we have found the two of them snuggled up together in one of Caruso's
sleeping spots.  They have not slept together outside the cage since Caruso
was a baby.  I think they realize he had a close call.
 
Note this has _not_ detered Caruso from trying to get out the door, but with
his bell on, we now know when he is trying.
 
Moral: keep an eye on the sneaks when you open the door.
 
Linda (who's glad she sent Joy out before it got dark), Richard ("It wasn't
my fault!"), Joy ("Aren't you glad I have sharp eyes?"), Belle ("I guess he
is kinda nice to have around.") and Caruso ("There's no place like home...")
[Posted in FML issue 1405]