Dear Ferret Folks-
 
My mother spent most of her childhood, years ago, in Greenwich, CT.
It was a quieter, gentler place then (as so many places were).  She
remembers a hillside that some gardener must have loved, long before
she was born.  At one point, it must have burst into the phrase "Spring
is Here!" in brightly colored crocuses every year at the proper time.
The letters were each several feet high.  By the time my mother was a
little girl, and literate, it had faded, and only announced the rather
gap-toothed, cryptic message  "Ping is He!"  every April.  She never
forgot it.  She used to look forward to it every year.
 
Well, when we lost Switch the Kit, I knew that we had enough love for
another ferret in our household.  It was just a question of finding the
right one.  Imagine my astonishment when I surfed the following
http://www.maferrets.org/shelter/foster.php
It is entitled "Wondering Weasels", a site sponsored by MaFF, the
Massachusetts Ferret Friends.  I knew that I wanted a shelter ferret,
but aside from that I had an open mind.  I was sort of hoping for a
male, as we had never had one before.
 
I looked at all of the beautiful little faces.Some of them had been
rescued from terrible situations, I knew.  I knew that if I met them,
rubbed their ears, I would know that each of these weasels was special.
But which one was *the* one?  How could I tell from just a picture?
Then, the twelth picture down, I saw him.  No.  No way!  Couldn't be.
Here is what I read:
 
"Ping" Ping is a handsome blaze male - around 2-1/2 years old.  Poor
Ping has already had two homes, so we want to make sure that he goes
to someone who will give him love for an eternity.
 
I thought, of course, PING IS HE!!  He is the one!  So today, my husband,
Hurricane Lily, and I drove down to New Bedford, Ma, to the home of his
foster Mom, Trudy Jo Wallach.  We visited for about an hour.
 
When we left, she still had the small black dog that wanted to be
carried under her arm like a loaf of bread, and the little white dog that
couldn't decide if it was scarier to be alone, or scarier to be too near
people.  Just hasn't made up its mind yet, so its sitting on her sofa,
thinking about it.  Its been there for weeks, apparently, without coming
to a conclusion.  It's not anti-social or anything, just thinking,
deeply.
 
Trudy still had the cat that was P.O.'d because it'd just had surgery
and it was in a cage, trying to pretend it was a jungle panther in order
to salve its dignity.  Well, I wasn't fooled.  Jungle panthers don't have
one side of their head shaved bald, bucko, but nice try.
 
Yes, she had all that, and more.  Trudy has many small friends.  But
Ping, well, PING is HE!, with us!
 
And Lily?  Well, she is not entirely delighted.  She has already
explained to him in the strongest possible terms that he may sleep in
her nesting box, but he may NOT sleep with her in her small cat carrier.
(She has abandoned the nesting box since Switch died.)  She has explained
many things to him in (ahem) ....what shall I call it...Wolverine Idiom?
Polecat Street-Talk?  It is strong language, indeed.  After he found a
poop in the corner of her rice box (I had no idea it was there) and he
ah, ate it, she just silently stood at the plexiglass barrier, begging to
be released from the ferret room."Please.  God.  Help me.  Anybody." Her
eyes said.
 
(Crunch-crunch-crunch in the background.  Imagine Ping saying around a
mouthful of the unspeakable "This is so cool, dude.  Poop!  Are you like,
a caterer?")
 
It will be so interesting to see what develops.
 
Alexandra in Ma
[Posted in FML issue 4844]