Dear Ferret Folks-

When we left off yesterday, RJ, the toughest little hombre ever to wear
tights and pink plastic princess shoes studded with fake gems (mustn't
forget the foundation garment that brings the whole look together, tiny
Superman underpants) was wailing (again) in the darkness. Uncle Danny,
synapses mis-firing badly due to too much work and too little sleep was
turning on lights and heading for the unfolding crisis in the person of
his nephew.

What's wrong, little buddy?

"IT'S INNA BEEEED IT'S BIDING MEEE!"

What's in the bed?

"BIDING MY FEEET!!!!"

What's biting your feet?

"A FERREDDD!!!!"

Lemme look at your feet, kid.

Two small pink feet were withdrawn from the beneath the glow in the
dark stars, moons, and comets blanket. There were no fang marks on
them. Uncle Danny pointed this out, tactfully.

"A FERRED is biding my feeeeet!!!"

Now, Uncle Danny is a practical man. He is a better uncle than I am an
aunt. He should be, he has quite a bit of experience. He has a sixteen
year old niece, and once upon a time they lived together in the same
family house, and he is the veteran of many toddler dramas. Many night
terrors. Uncle Danny knew *just* what to do.

Hey kid. I'm going to talk to the dog, Allis Chompers, and tell her
not to let*any* ferrets in your room tonight. OK?

"Sniffle...sniffle..."

And I'm going to talk to Sterling the Cat, and tell him not to let
*any* ferrets into your room tonight. OK?

(Small head nods.)

Uncle Danny walked into the living room, and formally addressed the
Noble Allis Chompers lying on her soft pillow next to the woodstove.
Allis Chompers, I don't want you to let *any* ferrets in there tonight,
OK? No ferrets in there. His deep voice could clearly be heard by the
miserable little person counting his toes in the guest room. I'm told
Allis gave him a one-eyed look like "Wuuuuh?" , but it sure seemed
commanding without the visual. Uncle Danny then addressed Sterling the
Cat, who was dead asleep, lying full length on his back the way cats
do, so that they look like they are lying the way they fell after
falling about ten stories onto a concrete sidewalk. Sterling, I want
you to make *extra sure* that NO FERRETS go in that room tonight, OK?
A small pink sliver of tongue protruded from Sterling's mouth, his
whiskers did not even quiver. Again, though, very commanding without
the visual. Uncle Danny did not even bother to address France, the
Fricken' Pigmy Hedgehog. She would surely have said to any foreign
weasel trying to sneak into the house "'Ey, youuu, youuu wan' zee
guessst roommm, zere isss a tasty kid in zere...go biiite 'ees
feeet..."

And you know what?

No ferrets went in there. All night.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 5479]