Joe has learned to spring the cage.  Of all the ferrets, JOE has learned to
open the cage.  Now, Joe is a sweet, sweet little tubby weasel.  He has the
most innocent little personality.  Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth and he
would have no interest at all in smearing it around the kitchen, across the
floor, under the sofa and to the hidey hole like the other kids would.  Joe
is a perfect gentleman, always well-mannered and orderly, but a few grapes
short of a fruit salad, if you know what I mean.  And Joe has learned to
spring the cage.  Of course, being the weasel that he is, he always comes
straight off to tell me that it's morning, he's opened the cage and will
now be off to get his morning chores done, thank you very much.  The others
would all be out rampaging.  Joe has to wish me a good morning.
 
So a few mornings ago, my "mom radar" goes off and I wake up at 7am to hear
what can only be Joe working at the cage.  No problem, I thought.  With
the dog clip on the door, he can't get out.  I snooze back off, only to
awake to the sound of galloping paws and a cold nose poked in my general
direction.  I take him back to the cage to find it still locked and secured
with the dog clip.  All the other kids are still snoring in their hammocks.
Hmmmm....
 
The next night I made sure to securely clip the door and added twist ties
on the sides to make extra sure Joe would stay where put until a reasonable
hour of the morning.  So I was confident at seven the next morning that I
had completely Joe-proofed the cage and that for all his workings he was
fine.  Twenty minutes later, there's Joe kissing me good morning and
dancing across the room to check on the Stuffed-Toys-Under-the-Draperies.
The clips and twist-ties were exactly where I had left them, firmly
attached to the cage door.  At this point all I can figure is that he's
wedging his head through the gap between cage wire and door wire and
wiggling his way to freedom.  Nevermind that it's a mere 1/4" different
from all the rest of the wire on the very securely made Superpets
ferret-proof cage.  Nevermind that Joe tops out at 3.7 pounds.  Somehow
the little houdini is springing the cage.
 
So this morning, Saturday morning, when logically I should get to sleep
to heaven knows when, what am I doing but crawling out of bed at 7am to
secretly watch Joe work in an effort to foil his little plans.  Poor, poor
Joe.  The cage door last night was double dog clipped and double twist
tied.  Federal banks are less secure.  So at the crack of dawn this morning
Joe worked and worked and worked.  He bit the cage wires and rattled the
door firmly.  He dug and dug at the wire, reaching through with little
fuzzy toes.  He strained to pull and push the wire so he could get his head
through.  Frighteningly enough, he only worked at the door joints, the only
two places that would aid his escape.  He also managed to strip one twist
tie off and fling it across the cage.  This was no fluke- he was actively
working at the twist tie.  Scary.  At some point in this process, he
started rolling over.  You must understand that Joe rolls over when he
really wants something.  He absolutely refuses to do it on command, but if
there is something he desperately wants, there's Joe rolling and rolling
and rolling.  So Joe works for a bit then rolls frantically, works for a
bit, rolls frantically.  No good.  After ten minutes or so, poor Joe gives
up, climbs back to his bed, morosely rolls into a ball and shuts his eyes.
Good, I thought.  He's realized his defeat.  Back to bed for me.  Twenty
minutes later he's back at it.  I get back up and crouch in the doorway
to watch.  More working and desperate rolling.  Ten minutes later he goes
back to bed.  We repeated this scenario four times with Joe finally adding
double rolls for good measure.  Nothing's working.  His magic powers are
fading.  Whatever is a poor weasel to do?!  Like any good weasel he finally
gave up to have a bit of breakfast and to toss food and water around the
cage.  When I finally re-awoke (at a decent hour of the morning!), Joe had
crashed hard.  He blinked one eye at me when I let the other kids out and
stayed firmly entrenched in his blankets.  Apparently the Stuffed Toys only
call for him at 7am.  Go figure.
 
So as it stands now, Ferret proofing-one, Fuzzie- zero.  It can't last...
 
Anne and the little minions of chaos
[Posted in FML issue 3367]