Dear Sukie-
 
Don't care what nooo steeenkin' Walker's Mammals say!  Switch the Kit, my
husband's ferret, is unquestionably a little dog, yes.  No arguement.
You got me there.  She is loyal and loving to my husband, the dog person.
Together, they sit on the sofa in front of the TV, eat cheese-puffs and
slurp rootbeer.  Switch NEVER bites him, no.  Just me, the cat-person.
 
Hurricane Lily, however, MY ferret, is a little *cat*!  She is above it
all, unconcerned with worldly matters, and half-way to Buddahood, like
any self-respecting *cat*.  She spends most of her life in contemplative
meditation, preferably in a sunbeam, like a little *cat*!  Like any
*cat*, she does not suffer fools or foolishness gladly, and she never,
EVER, searches for answers to her own trancenDENTAL (tooth pun intended)
nature between the covers of Walker's Mammals of the World!
 
She invites you to come over and try to pry her mouth open to prove your
abusurd assertion that she has canine, rather than feline ancestors, she
says, shuddering at the memory of Switch wagging her little tail in bliss
when she sees my husband walk past the door to the ferret room.  Most
undignified!  Switch begs, BEGS like a little dog to be picked up!
 
Further, YOUR teeth may be designed to eat grains and seeds, MINE are
designed to eat chocolate truffles.  I do MY hunter-gathering at Trader
Joe's, not the African savannah!  (And those nasty slashing canines
typical of our primate cousins the Baboon?  Intended to pierce the thick
plastic wrapping on nukable TV dinners.  They just haven't invented the
microwave yet.  They're evolving toward that as fast as they can, you
would too if termites were on the menu day after day.)
 
And what's this business about a "well-padded bottom"?  Are you sayin' I
got a fat ass, you, you CRANDALL?
 
Alexandra in MA
Blissfully untroubled by facts! They just get in the way.
[Posted in FML issue 4709]