This past Tuesday night, my worst fears were realize when I could not
locate one of my ferrets.  Except I wasn't positive that Mushu wasn't in
the house just hiding, which she is good at, or that she had found herself
a spot that she got accidentally hung up in and couldn't get out.  There
were signs during the day though, that told me that she may not actually
been in the house... like Cherokee was out and playing with me all day.
This is unusual because Cherokee and Mushu are always at each other and
Cherokee, being the smaller of the two, finds places that protect her body
while her face is the only thing showing.  Mushu gives up and then leaves
her alone.  The other thing I noticed was that the house seemed unusually
quiet.
 
When I got home that night, the first thing I asked my hubby was, "Have you
seen Mushu?"  He replied that he had not and the mad search was on.  Level
One places are the most common sleeping areas.  No go.  Level Two areas are
their favourite hiding spots that are not necessarily sleeping spots.  No
go.  Level Three areas are those areas that you know are ferret proofed
but you never know when the proofing fails, i.e. getting wedged behind a
dresser, under the fridge.  She was no where to be found.  My heart sank...
she had to have gotten outside... that was the only place left to search.
After two hours outside, we gave up.  We couldn't use a squeak toy as she
was deaf, so calling her was out as well.  It was sloppy wet snow outside
and any of her footprints had melted during the day when I would assume she
got out.  The sidewalks were clear and she could have stuck to those to
travel around in.  We both hung onto the idea that she did not get out.
I was not so sure.
 
The next morning I tore apart the basement, going through every box, and
moving everything I could move.  I heard nothing... no scratching, no
movement.  My heart knew she had to have gotten out.  I went to the dryer
and pulled on the hose.  It came off easily.  Too easily.  I yelled at my
husband who flew down to look.  It had been over 10 years since a ferret
had climbed out of our home using this method of scratching a hole into
the bottom of the hose, and climbing straight up 10 feet to the exit hole
at the top.  One of our other ferrets, Titch, had gotten out 3 times, and
luckily, through the use of flyers, and the same children who found her
each time, we got to keep our baby.  We were stumped on how Titch had
gotten out until one morning, when we were leaving for work, our headlights
shone upon her shining face poking out of the dryer exit hole.  We were
shocked and elated at the same time and the mystery was solved.  The hose
was never reattached again.  Last year we purchased a new washer and dryer
and a new hose.  My hubby, knowing what had happened in the past, wired on
the hose well enough to keep any potential ferrets out but we also kept the
basement door shut.
 
Wednesday, I made up flyers and went about delivering them around the
complex where I live.  I called the SPCA and notified them.  My worst fear
was that Mushu would be mistaken for a weasel and that cruel boys would
chase and beat her with a hockey stick.  I was sick all day with the
thoughts of her possible torture.  Children around the neighbourhood were
helpful and one told me of her brother spotting something weird running
across the ice last night.  As we live off a park, the chance was high it
was her.  I checked it out but could not see any footprints... damn melting
snow.  I ran across an older boy who had little hope of me finding her.
After I left him, I did not want to believe that he may be right and tried
to force it from my mind.
 
That evening, after hubby returned from work, we made another plan to
search.  I had a meeting to go to but did not want to leave the house.
My hubby insisted I go.  I cried as I left.  Upon reaching my destination,
I was told to call home.  My heart raced... found?  Alive or dead?  I
called... my hubby told me that when I had pulled the car out of the stall,
that he saw something sitting in the middle of the parking space... it was
Mushu!  So many things came together that night... if I hadn't left, I
would have never moved the car... and if I hadn't pulled straight back...
I would have run her over.  A miracle had truly happened.
 
I must confess at this point that I am not a praying person and neither is
my husband, but as we talked later, we both found out that we had both
prayed for her safe return all day.  It seemed our prayers were answered.
 
Thank God for miracles... and we did.
 
Betty and Her Blur O'Fur doing further renovations! Missing Squeegie
[Posted in FML issue 2971]