To all of those who are waiting on me for hammocks, ferret blankets etc,
hang in there, they are still coming.  I've just been very "bogged down" by
life in all of its complexities and by "stuff" in all its many varieties,
hitting the fan, the floor, the corners, under the bed.....you know the
drill.
 
There is a concerted cat and ferret rebellion going on at my place.  I am
the target, or should I say victim.  I could have cried when I had opened
my last gift at my birthday party, and it wasn't a Bissell (brand) Little
Green Clean Machine.
 
Like Mom said, "Now your great, great Grandma, if she were still here,
bless her soul, would have said about that 'Well now Honey, you just save
up your pennies, pile up your rocks and soon you'll have t'baccy in yer
old t'baccy box.'"
 
Sigh, Mothers!.....Grandmothers.......???  t'baccy.........?  hmmmm...so
that's what they called those little pretzel shaped presents the weasels
left all over their houses in the olden days.  And to think they smoked
that stuff......it's enough to make you quit smoking, eh???
 
Anyway, I don't want y'all to think I'm swimming in a cesspool here,
entitled by more experienced river rafters and guides, "The Ferrets'
Revenge".  But I darn near have to shampoo my carpet every day with the
tank-sized Bissell (brand) Commando Reinforcement Weapon and Rescue
Module.  I'm telling you, that thing spits all over you if you don't empty
the swimming-pool sized tank when there's a whole inch of water in it.
 
There most be five billion tons of inches if that is possible, still left
in the carpet to be sucked up and dumped out.  Why does it have to launch
the contents of its innards almost as soon as it's vacuumed up?????  You'd
think the thing was alive or had some form of intelligence.  I know if I
was on its wheels though, I'd spit that stuff out too, and run for the
toothbrush, forget that, I'd gargle shampoo, no, I think I'd gargle Lysol.
 
So what do I do???  I drag or get dragged by, depending on who's driving,
the Commando Module into the bathroom, being careful to avoid the bumps
UNDER the carpet, where the installer guys decided not to sweep up the
construction debris.  Because, you know what happens when you hit a little
bump like that, and your tank-sized Commando Module doesn't have brakes, or
one of those track things that tanks are supposed to have, but it has these
stupid little wheels that only spin around, they don't roll forward or
backwards?????  You spill all that stinky, smelly, putrid brownish yellow
water on the kitchen carpet of your rented apartment.
 
Once you clean that mess up and haul the Green Beastly Commando-less
Mess-Weapon into the bathroom, you have to pick it up and dump it in one
of three places, the toilet, the bathtub or the sink.  Try doing that 350
times a day.  I think I am getting steadily shorter and more compact, and
chronically exhausted.  If I didn't love my critters so much, they'd spend
all their time in critter jail, or go live with someone else.  (God
Forbid!!!!)
 
Alas, I love them so much, that even though they are determined to pee all
over my carpet whenever and wherever they please......(Hey, there's no such
thing as "corners" in my house, unless there are round corners and corners
without walls in the middle of the room)...... I let them have the run of
the safe part of the house and dutifully haul out the heavy artillery once
they are all asleep in their beds.  I'd never get anything done if I had to
follow them around, especially under the bed, and grab them and stick them
in the litter box whenever they look like they have to go, which is usually
when I'm not looking or as soon as I turn my back.
 
So, guess what I did folks?  Since I can't tear out my carpet and tile
everything or install wood flooring, I took the $40 of birthday money I got
and spent the whole thing--plus, on clear carpet runner.  As soon as I get
one spot totally clean and deodorized and dry, the stuff is going to start
going down.  My house will be called Tackyville Resort, where the Bog(ged
down) Woman Resorts to being completely and totally tacky for the sake of
her sanity and to outwit her rebellious teenage ferrets.
 
Pray for me.  Lately I have been having nightmares about being awakened in
my sleep by ugly men with really long whiskers, long pointy noses, very
short arms and legs, with bellies that appear to sag on the floor, who
force me, kicking and screaming to change into all-white, very restrictive
clothing, not the least bit fashionable, very tacky, to say the least, and
throw me in a room with plastic all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
The only thing else in that room is a dish full of ferret food, a water
bottle bolted tightly to the wall, and a bunch of hard little plastic balls
with bells in them.  I tell you, it's HELL!!!
 
Until I feel something crawling on me, then licking my face, and I wake up
to "Angel".  Then I Know it's just a nightmare, and living in a plasticized
environment is okay, for now.  Anything for my little fur-angels.
 
But to shorten a very long story, all of you out there who are still
waiting on me, and those shelters among you to which I plan to send items
in memory of special ferrets, as long as the Bissell (brand) Commando
Reinforcement Weapon and Rescue Module doesn't turn on me, I will rise to
the occasion, albeit at a slower pace than first planned.
 
A couple of you have had e-mail addresses changes, and I haven't received
your new ones so I can contact you regarding your ferret items.  You
probably know who you are.  Please get in touch with me!  If you don't
receive an e-mail from me by sometime tomorrow, and you donated to Dena or
Floyd Marie, AND were in contact with me regarding hammocks and blankets
for your personal use, I NEED to hear from you, because you may have been
accidentally deleted from my list during routine maintenance.
 
Sorry this was so long, but I just can't resist putting a funny face on a
frustrating situation.  I thought some of you might be able to relate.
Thanks for reading!
 
Alecia
[Posted in FML issue 2955]