Imagine being imprisoned for about 10 years of your life with no
recreation, toys, books, t.v., bedding.  or mental stimulation.  No one
loves you.  No one but strangers visit.  You get food and water in the
morning.  It has to last until the next morning.  You walk on bars.  Your
feet are not adapted to floor or carpet.  You have brothers and sisters.
But they are taken from prison, and never return.  Little nippy teething
babies are put in prison with you to irritate you.  You are miserable
with fleas and mites.
 
The little girl I took in 2 weeks ago had this happen to her.  ARound one
year of her life is the equivalent of ten of ours.  She has figured out how
to walk, run, and leap these last few days.  But she does not know a humans
love.  She does a quick slash/bite on my toes, feet, ankles, and hands.
 
She is aggressive, and attacks everything-toy, human, or animal.The cats
are terrified of her.  She chatters adorably ==kind of like a rattle snake
rattles: it is my warning that Fang is near.
 
She is so tiny that she can get out of her cage.  I learned this when I got
a nasty bite on my foot while making dinner last night.  No chatter-just a
sharp bite while I was carrying a boiling liquid from the stove.  What a
shocker!  I did not know if I should hide a foot, or hop, or drag my feet
away.  I could not see her beneath the pot I was carrying.  Little Terror.
She has a new cage now.
 
I took her in for her second distemper shot and Ivermectin shot today.  I
kissed her tiny face for being so brave.  I look like I have collagen
injections in my lips from the swelling of the little girls bites.  Kinda
sexy.
 
This little one had nothing.  Now she wants everything.  She is full of
surprises.  She somehow jammed my entire satin bathrobe into and behind a
drawer along with over a dozen stuffed animals I have not seen in ages.
Don't go near her den there unless you want to face a hissing ferret that
makes noises like the Tasmanian Devil.
 
My leather work shoes are missing.  Another dozen toys are by the kitchen
sink.  And this little thing also has made a nest under the bathroom sink.
Don't go after her there!!!!!!!!!!!!  "-)
 
I tried to give her another bath as the first was more of a fight with
terrible screaming noises.  I could not bear to hear the same noises coming
out of her again.  So she is still not as clean as I would like.  Boy--can
she screeeeeetch!!!!!!!!!!!
 
I have not named her yet.  I was thinking of Angel--but hey-get real.
Viper kinda fits her right now.  What a hissy, quick striking slinky miss.
 
She is in her new cage right now.  I thought she was going to tear her
teeth off trying to get out: poor thing.  But she has been out for hours.
 
So there is my update on the one pound monster.  It is not going smoothly,
and could take years to get her trust.  One pound, four ounces, and I am
afraid of her when she is by my feet.  They are really sore from all the
bites.At least I don't goosh blood like I did with Cheyene.
 
On a brighter note--maybe the raccoons I thought died during the heavy
snows have survived!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I Just this second turned to see one
peeking in.  I have food right off the den tonight.
 
Kisses from puffy fish wips
Lisette
 
PS--yarling, snarling racoons right off the den!!!  More than one survived!
Yahoo!!  More food coming up!
[Posted in FML issue 3357]