I just want you nice people to know I'm feeling real good and bouncing all
over the place like Old Times.
 
I had my stitches taken out a while ago, and only have some pink dots on my
bare tummy to show where they sewed me up.  I'm still peeing out the New
Place, which is a little above and to the left of the Old Place, but it
doesn't make me nervous anymore.  My girlfriends have adjusted to my
ongoing State of Slight Dampness, as long as Mommy keeps washing our
blankies a couple times a day.  I've been dancing and hopping a LOT and
feel more energetic than ever!  I still take my yummy orange-tasting
medicine twice a day to keep from getting so sick so fast again.  Nobody
seems to know exactly what went wrong, and everybody's keeping a close eye
on me so things don't get weird again.
 
One Bad Thing, though.  Last night I went for a checkup so my doctor could
do a "swab test" of my bladder along with some other tests.  When the new
young vet/tech came to see me in the special greeting-room, I THOUGHT he
was real nice because he looked like Brett Favre (I'm a Wisconsin Ferret,
you know), and also he had a little see-through tube in his hand like Mommy
gives me my delicious medicine from.  So I assumed "Brett" was going to
give me a treat...WRONG.  And Dear Old Mommy helps him HOLD ME DOWN...I ask
you, how would YOU feel if you'd been coddled and comforted for weeks, and
then some grinning quarterback suddenly comes along and does a thing like
that to YOU without even saying "please"?
 
After thoroughly humiliating me, they knocked me out and did something to
my bladder (yeah, so why couldn't they have knocked me out before they took
my TEMPERATURE?), and after I woke up in an understandably foul mood, Mommy
and Uncle Greg took me home.  The tests that could be read last night
showed that my BUN (BUM?) and potassium were A-OK, but they'll have to wait
three days for the bladder swab culture results.
 
When Mommy asked me for my usual goodnight kisses as she was putting me to
bed, I turned my head aside, as befits a gentleman whose pride has been
deeply wounded.  When she woke me up this morning and asked for a kiss
again, I gave her a tiny little one, while making it clear that I had not
completely forgiven her.  Then I played all day with my girlfriends and it
all sort of went out of my mind (until now), and I ended up kissing Mommy
lots of times before we turned on the computer.  I guess we ferrets just
have a real hard time with the concept of "holding a grudge."
 
I hope you all continue to wish me the best with my test results.  And to
all my fellow ferrets: Beware of smiley red-haired Wisconsin techs with
glass tubes instead of footballs in their hands...they'll throw you down
and make a pass you'd never believe.
 
BBB
[Posted in FML issue 2492]