When I first got into saving ferts from this one pet store where the owner
had a serious drug problem, no love of ferts,and had a very busy pet store
that kept his few helpers running around and unable to care for the animals
properly, I tried not to keep any of the sick ferts I brought home.  They
all went back healthy, chubby; no longer the starving weak runt.  Each one
after being with my clowns for a few weeks went back to the trough they
were kept in as the alpha ferret.  Each quickly had the other ferts
cowering.  And each one was sold before a week had passed.  ...All except
for one.
 
There, in a pig trough filled with cedar shavings, too many ferts, mounds
of poop and cedar filled food and water bowls lay a tiny silver mitt.  Each
time I purchased food so I could place some in the bowl, the stronger ferts
rushed the bowl, and crowded out the weak babies.  The tiny fert just lay
there.
 
The manager was a kind man who had come to trust me, and so I carried this
poor thing home for the Thanksgiving Holiday and following few weeks.He was
so petite that his entire body fit my hand.  I walked with my sister for an
hour with fert in hand.  As we headed in I started cooing to the wee one.
My sister actually thought that I was talking to my hand.  [!!]
 
This tiny fert lived, and my nephew gave it a name of a strong fierce
animal to give it strength.  We named him Tiger.  When it was time to
return him, I placed him in the trough.But unlike the others I saved- he
was picked on, and sat shivering in the corner.  He wasnt allowed to eat.
Hours later he was still shivering and huddled in a ball: " TIGER"..the
shy guy.
 
I purchased him and home he came.  He is submissive to all, and still
shivers.  But he has a home and lots of love.
 
I never kept a fert I saved at that pet shop-
all except for one:
 
 " TIGER"..MY shy guy.
 
 Lisette
[Posted in FML issue 2625]