It all began with Winston's illness.  Normally, we leave the fur-worms in
the care of a competent neighbor when we have to travel.  But Winston had
diarrhea, and needed liberal dosing with medicine and Pedialyte.  So, we
decided to board them at the local vet.
 
I showed up with the (three-story) cage, two weasels, and the usual
accoutrements: food, blankets, hammocks, treats, stereo-set, wool socks,
reading material.  The vet's assistants are used to us, and know the
eccentricities of the Ferret Set, and were very accomodating, but nixed
the cage on the grounds that it was too big.  They put the woozles in a
kennel, which, on inspection, would serve.  So, leaving instructions that
they were not to read any Stephen King or listen to Rush Limbaugh, I left
them with the DVM.
 
Off on my trip.  Conducted business.  Returned.
 
Returning, the first order of bees wax was to pick up the children.  They
were both looking bronzed and fit, but the DVM, looking sheepish, related
a story that made my knotted and combined locks to part, and each
particular hair to stand on end like quills upon the fearful porpentine,
as Shakespeare has it.
 
She got a call at two AM one morning, after a party or shindig of some
kind (you know how these vets live in Arcady).  The alarm at the clinic
had gone off.  She turned up, groggy and in bad temper, with the police
and the fire department and God knows what other public functionaries,
and her terrier.  After a thorough search of the premises, it seemed that
all the kennels were secure.  She was about to put it down to system
failure in the alarm when the terrier nosed out Something Behind the
Refrigerator.  Rikki, my little girl, had apparently squeezed out of the
kennel and set off the motion detector.  Imagine her surprise: she was
apprehended, fingerprinted, and moved to a kennel with much smaller
bars.  All because she decided it was time to map out the new surroundings.
 
The rest of the story: everyone at the Vet's now has to do whatever I
tell them when it comes to caring for ferrets, and a picture of Rikki is
kept on the bulletin board with the notice: "Wanted: Escaped Fellon.
Suspected of Breaking and Exiting, Arson, and Midnight Snacking."
[Posted in FML issue 1034]