As we open our scene we can see two ferrets who have been *bad*!  Yes,
they have climbed over the forbidden top of the baby gate, (again) and
made their way one by one into the darkened kitchen.
 
All is still in the heart of the night.  The refrigerator hums its
tuneless mantra over in the corner.  The coffeemaker sits waiting for
the morning.  The hoomins are asleep in their bed.  Two ferrets slink
over to the pantry doors, which were left open just a crack for the
night.
 
The dog, the Noble Allis Chompers, opens one eye when she hears the
skittering of tiny nails and pink pads on the kitchen floor.  She wisely
decides not to get involved in ferrety matters (she has been burned
before.) She stands up, turns around three times in the seat of her soft
velvety green armchair, and snuggles back down to sleep.
 
One ferret stands, and another climbs up her friend like a ladder to
reach the bottom shelf of the pantry.  From there, it's easy for her to
climb up, from white coated wire shelf to shelf, until she reaches the
top one.  There, she seeks out a cylindrical cardboard canister with a
red plastic lid.  She sniffs at it delicately.  Ah, raisins.  The warm,
sweet sun-dried aroma of raisins.  This is what she has come for.  She
turns, looks down at her friend waiting below, and says "Look out, now."
 
A muted "Heeee!" signals that all is ready below.
 
She stands up against the container and pushes with one soft gray
shoulder.  The canister moves a little, then a little more.  Then it is
free, it falls from the shelf and lands on the linoleum with a THUD!,
well away from Lily, who was hiding beneath the counter while Switch
pushed.  The can rolls about six feet before coming to a stop against the
base of the sink.  The dog, hearing the thud, decides she now has one
more reason to detest weasels.
 
Now we see two ferrets examining the canister on it's side on the kitchen
floor.  The examination reveals no damage, but the lid has come free, and
there is a spray of dark raisins fanning out across the floor.  First
Switch, then Lily each picks up two in their mouths, and hop-runs all
the way to the hoomins bedroom door.  First one ferret, then another
magically teleports herself under the closed door and into the bedroom.
(Yes, they can really do that.)
 
From there they scramble up the bed, using the blankets hanging over the
side as ladders.  Each lady carefully deposits her raisins beneath one
hoomin's pillow.  They make several trips each.
 
And in the morning, I wake to find 11 raisins beneath my pillow, sort of
fuzzy from the sheet and ferret spit, but I know that *somebody* still
loves me, *ammit!  Even if I'm not allowed to use the mouse without
permission anymore!
 
Alexandra in Massachusetts,
Quietly sniveling.
[Posted in FML issue 4196]