Dear Ferret Folks-

Over the weekend we had a house guest, a gentle man named John who had
*no* idea that one, we had weasels, two, that he would be sleeping in
the same room as weasels, or three, that I let them romp all over the
house beginning at about seven PM, no matter what. (Generally there is
an earlier romp, too, but the seven PM rule is inflexible.)

By romp all over the house I mean of course that the boys romp over and
through any and all house guests shoes left on the floor. That the boys
romp over and under and through any luggage left by house guests. That
the boys can and will sniff and explore all house guests, including
remote sniffing, accomplished by sniffing the bedding and bed of any
and all house guests.

I just take all of this for granted. John did not, but he was a
trooper, and he tried really hard to get with the program. Best as I
can figure, his wife invited him over to our house for the weekend
rather than pay to have him stay at a nearby hotel while he attended a
seminar. I am a cheap Yankee, I have no problem with that. *She* knew
about the weasels, but decided not to tell him. John is shy, and it was
hard enough, I think, for him to be a house guest. Had he known about
the weasels, I think that Holiday Inn would have scored.

Poor John. He calmly allowed himself to be sniffed. I suggested that
he might want to keep his guitar case closed. I tried to get with the
program, too, but the seven PM rule is the seven PM rule. I don't care
if people are eating, watching TV...whatever. The boys come out for
that two hour romp. And no, true to my word, no weasels bit John or
even tried to. He had...concerns in that regard. He asked about the
possibility several times.

Now, I take it for granted that I am never allowed to visit *the* John
by myself, not if weasels are out. No. They are adept at popping the
bathroom door open and letting themselves in. They really enjoy the
fact that folks on the John with pants down have a ready made hammie
sitting right between their feet. I am unaware of ferrets having a
preference for any particular panty type, they just like panties.
Boxers or briefs, they aren't picky.

John managed not to scream. I think it must have been hard for him...
of course...maybe he simply *couldn't* scream, his horror was so big,
so all-encompassing.

Leave it to say that at around seven thirty PM he came out of the
bathroom with a weasel in each hand, and visible beads of sweat on his
forehead. He sat down on the sofa, and gently reached down and put the
boys paws down on the floor. He said simply "They helped me."

Yes, I bet they did.

After putting the boys down John looked at me hopefully, as if I might
pity him and offer to put the boys away. I looked up from my crocheting
and said simply "This is their home."

No pity, no quarter given.

I don't think we'll be seeing John, soon. Maybe at a cookout or
something, but not as a guest. No, I doubt that.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 6288]