Dear Ferret Folks-
OK, I guess now I have seen everything. Over the years there have been
several types of people who have been guests in my home. There are the
few who actively dislike ferrets, like my mother and mother in law.
They complain about the smell,(what smell?) the possibility of being
bitten (well, yeah, Puma...), the tedium of my ceaseless interest in
a subject that bores them...but they do their *itching politely, and
tolerate the presence of wandering ferrets well when the little guys
are out free roaming. In the end, they find my obsession acceptable on
some level because I actually make a little bit of kibble writing for
that magazine that they don't read.
It's only fair, says I. I am endlessly bored by my mother's ability to
tell THE SAME story 16, 984 times over and over again, whether or not
anyone is listening. As for my mother in law, I would rather eat a
pound of dust than have to try to share her interest in Christmas
Village collectable ceramic model houses. We will simply pass over her
morbid fascination with lighthouse themed everything in silence. That
floats *their* boats. I like ferrets. These ladies are honest in their
dislike, and I cannot fault them for it.
Then there are my guests that are just *petrified* by the weasels. They
are polite when the little guys are out free roaming, but they most
certainly don't want to be *touched* by mustelids. They are almost
uniformly a polite lot. I understand. I wouldn't want someone's pet
tarantula crawling on me, but I could show a polite interest in the
tarantula if a someone were showing it to me with genuine interest
and enthusiasm. Being a good host, I am careful to rescue the PBW's
(Petrified By Weasels) and put my little guys back in their cage for
the duration of the PBW's visit. My mother raised me to be a gracious
host. She's told me so. 16, 984 times.
Far and away though, the great majority of my guests are extremely
interested in the weasels, and enjoy visiting with them. My brother in
law inevitably tries to play with one in ways it doesn't want to be
played with, and experiences ferret *correction*. How is it that he
never learns? You don't pick Ping up like a sack and try nibbling on
his belly. (Someday I'm going to let my brother in law know just where
Ping stores what is left of his family jewels...but I am waiting for
just the right time.)
Children inevitably love having the weasels out, they beg to have the
weasels out. Even knowing as my little nephew R.J. does that "Puma
bitses." They are willing to take their chances. They play with the
ferrets, run from the ferrets shrieking, run toward the ferrets
shrieking...And the ferrets are pretty good sports about it.
People who have never seen a ferret before ask all kinds of questions,
and like to give them little pats, and show genuine interest. Then
there is Jeff.
Yes, Jeff. One of our computer geek friends from California. Jeff is I
believe the only Ferret Neutral Individual I have ever encountered. He
was just a house guest here, and I swear, he showed no interest in the
ferrets whatsoever. He wasn't disgusted. He wasn't afraid. He had no
more reaction to them than if they were baked potatoes, lying in little
tinfoil jackets to keep warm in a basket. When they got interested in
his feet, he silently withdrew his feet. When they ran around war
dancing, he turned his gaze to the nearest hoomin and kept talking. The
most passion they got out of him was a furious war dance, that inspired
him to remark mildly that "that backing up thing is interesting." But
then he started talking about something else. He could Not. Have.
Cared. Less.
HOW? How is it that anyone can IGNORE the spectacle that is ferret?
The passion? The personality that is ferret? Even the folks I know
who *hate* them don't talk about much else when the ferrets are doing
their sniff and scamper around the living room. The Ferret Neutral
Individual. Apparently there are such unfortunates. Perhaps their
problem has a genetic basis, some key chromosome doubled or missing
or otherwise mutated. HOW can you ignore a pigmy wolverine trying to
crawl into your shoe? Up your leg? Frolicking on the carpet at your
feet, inviting you to *play* with them, dangnabit! C'mon, hoomin! Play
with me!
Perhaps we will never know what motivates the Ferret Neutral
Individual. But we can pity him, oh yes.
Alexandra in MA
[Posted in FML 5783]
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