My eight fuzzies, without exception, adore Captain Crunch.  We call it
"Ferret Cookies."  I know they shouldn't eat it often, but if it's good
enough for my 12 y/o human daughter to eat for breakfast (and sometimes me
to eat for dinner), then I figure it won't kill them.  (Well, maybe trying
to get the cereal box off the top of the baker's rack might, but so far, so
good...)
 
Baby Mista update here -- Chuck and Luke are loving him and only had to be
Ferratoned for 3 days before they completely forgot they ever hated him.
Oh, and the new baby is a LAP ferret.  I've had the joy of 10 fuzzies in 8
years, but so far, none of them were true lap ferrets (sitting there for
Ferretone does NOT count) until they got a little advanced in years, say 6-7
y/o.  But last night, Mista climbed into the papasan chair with me, rolled
over on his back, and went to sleep.
 
A word on biters, I've never had much trouble with biters, except for
Dreyfuss the Vampire Slayer, which is a story for another email.  "NO" said
in a deep, stern voice usually results in instant contrition and complete
understanding.  I also have real success simply holding the offender's teeth
gently between thumb and forefinger.
 
Ferretz Rule,
Lynne & Pookie, Dreyfuss, Misha, Maxx, Cody, Chuck, Luke and Mr.
Mistofflelees ("All we want for Christmas is the boxes your stuff came in...)
[Posted in FML issue 2158]