I was an early teen and had a bad bout of mono.  I had complications and
was bed ridden and out of school for 4 whole months.  I had gotten to be
quite a hermit up in my room, and started to get depressed.
 
One day I was in my bed watching TV and sketching when my bedroom door
flung open without so much as a knock.  My mother came waltzing in with a
cigarette balanced on the end of her lip, a drink somehow in one hand (here
the ice rattle?  lol), and this huge flat kind of white Tupperware
container with a screen top.  There was this animal thing rummaging all
inside.  And there were big thick gloves on the top of the container.
 
She said, "got somethin' for you".  I looked on annoyed but curious and
said what?  And what are those gloves for??" She said, "had to get her.
While I was picking up parrot food in the pet store ... these teenage boys
were torturing her and the new person at the pet store allowed it!  She's
been abused a lot I suspect and is very vicious ... so be careful.  I
suppose this will give you something to do".  She had set the container on
the floor by in the corner, and stood there musing over it, took this deep,
long drag off her cigarette, and she said, "so there ya go..  bye".  Off
she went!
 
I walked over and in it was a poor young female ferret.  Oh she stunk to
high heaven.  And vicious, my gosh you couldn't get near the container.  I
had no idea how to handle the situation, I was just a kid!  I went on and
set up a home.  Then after she kept trying to attack me right through the
screen top, I put on the gloves and gave it a go.  Holy cow she bit in with
a vengeance and would not let go.  I had to sit and hold her in my lap with
her attached to my gloved hand and was petting her with the other hand.
She then let go and leaped off my lap and was loose!  It took forever to
catch the little thing.
 
Finally I had her all set up in this big aquarium (I had no cage ... talk
about doing EVERYTHING wrong).  We actually had to keep her in my bathroom
with the window open she stunk so bad.  It was a couple months before I
could handle her without gloves.  I finally could bath her, and she still
stunk!  So we named her Rosey.
 
I used to walk around singing the song Rosey from the movie Bye Bye Birdie.
"Everything is Rooooosey, for me and little Rooooosey... we could be so
coooooozy, life is but a dream.  For me and little Rosey......." LOL.  She
had free run of the house most of each day and I kept her loose in my room
much of the time when I was ill.  She was great company.  And she loved all
our other animals, especially Nicole.  I remember my mother's parrot and
Rosey torturing each other all the time lol.
 
She hated my father lol.  She bit his feet all the time.  And my drunk
mother would say, "oh Bob ... you make such a big deal stoooop it!"  He'd
say, "@#%^& **^$# JUNE!!  God damn animals!  It's biting the hell out me.
Don't tell me she isn't!  *&^$!" "Bob, knock it off... I mean reaaaaally!
She doesn't hurt."  Meanwhile my father's feet would have these fang marks
all over them, and slowly welt up.  She'd bitch at him more.  lol.
 
You know how ferrets have this thing for soaps?  Well, When I'd hear my
father in the shower.... I'd purposefully make sure she was loose,
upstairs, and that his bathroom door was cracked open so she could get in.
"#&$*#&^*$& #*&$^ JUNE THAT GODDAMN ANIMAL'S LOOSE!  COME GET IT!!  IT
JUST BIT THE HELL OUT ME THE DAMN THING!"
 
BAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAAA!!  My mother would roll her eyes, take a sip of her
drink, a drag off her cigerette, and take her sweet damn time to rescue my
father...... purposefully.  Rosey was my pal.  The only time I got mad at
her was on one Easter morning when she got to my Easter basket before me!
Yeah.... she had herself quite a feast there.
 
wolfy
[Posted in FML issue 2967]