Peggy is home now, and doing fine.
 
My girlfriend, Ramona, and I had done several things to let people know
that she was missing.  An ad in the local newspaper; an ad on a local radio
station (KFDI -- hey, it's C&W, I know, but they're *great* about things
like this!); started bugging the local Animal Control and Humane Society
people; put up 30 posters on poles all over Ramona's neighborhood; and
combed her neighborhood over and over again.  Monday evening we had a
difficult time keeping the despair away, and Al, Peggy's cagemate, was
missing her.  And *then* the Storm hit (capitalization seems apropos), and
I, for one, could see Peggy's chances for survival going down drastically.
I kept bugging the proper people, but by Tuesday, I confess that I was
losing hope.  Ramona and I both did our share of crying over this Little
Lost Fuzzie.
 
Then came Tuesday night.  About 10:45, I got a call from someone.  They
were leaving a bar just 3 or 4 blocks from Ramona's house, when they met
a ferret trying to get in  (No ID, so I don't know what she expected to
accomplish).  They, kind-hearted souls that they are, took her home and
debated whether to call KFDI to place a found pet ad, when they decided to
check the newspaper.  Bingo.  And the ad had started running that day, too.
 
I called Ramona and rousted her out of a sound sleep (I didn't think that
she would complain.), and she picked Peggy up.  Peggy was very scared and
wouldn't eat, which I think is understandable, but otherwise seemed in fine
shape.  She's only slightly dirty, but not mud-caked, as I would have
expected.  She obviously found a place to shelter from the storm and hail,
but we'll never know where.  We'll never know where she was for almost
three days, or by what route she made it to that bar.  (As to WHY the bar,
seriously -- most likely either the noise or the smell of FOOD!)
 
I saw Peggy this evening for the first time since her Great Adventure.  I
had worried all day that she might not be eating or was dehydrated or
physically injured.  From my untrained-in-the-ways-of-fuzzies eye, however,
she's fine.  She was as lively as ever, and when Ramona filled their food
bowl, the rustle of the food sack *really* got Peggy's attention!  Last I
saw of her, she was eating -- or rather dunking her head in the waterbowl
and *then* eating, which Ramona assures me is normal.
 
So Peggy is back and her family is very happy.  And now I can come up for
air and realize just how badly the Storm hit us around here.  Ramona and I
were fortunate, but some others weren't.  My heart goes out to them and to
the little ones that they love.  The life of one little ferret doesn't mean
much compared to the lives lost in Wichita and Oklahoma City, I know, but
we find the good news where we can.
 
Ramona and I want to thank all of you here for the advice and the support
that you gave us through this trying time.  You're a fine bunch of folks.
I received a lot of E-mails, and it will take a while to answer them all,
but I intend to do so.
 
Paul E. Jamison, Esq. (To Skeeter:  Little buddy, I know that you will be
greeting Al and Peggy at the Rainbow Bridge someday, and I thought that
this might be Peggy's time.  But it appears that it won't be for a while
yet.  I hope that you're there for them when the time comes.)
 
--
 
For the sick fuzzies, for the lost fuzzies, for the fuzzies at the Rainbow
Bridge, and for the humans that love them all so much.  And for all the
folks, two- and four-legged, that were affected by the Storm.
[Posted in FML issue 2669]