The motley crew had clamored through the clear dryer hose to converge like
drunken sailors in the bathroom.  Large fluffy blankets, a cardboard box,
paper toweling, tubing, chirping-hissing fighting ferrets, leaping and
flipping ferrets, and jumping ferrets hopping on thick blankets like
trampolines: my favorite kind of morning.
 
Miss Maria skipped out of the room, down the hall, and rounded a bend.
She had suddenly become a leader of men, for the hoard galloped directly
behind her.
 
Her emaciated form backed up and stopped-and a little brown squiggle and
small round liquid emerged on the papers set in the corner.
 
"Good Girl!" I shouted over and over.  This drove the crowd wild, and
ferrets fell on top of one another, and leaped in the air in the excited
tones of my voice.
 
Maria trotted like a thoroughbred horse-a high stepper-into the next room
with papers.  She backed up and stood still-leaving another brown squiggle
and small wet spot.  "Good girl Maria.  Good girl.!!!" I gleefully
exclaimed.  Maria had excrement fall out of her as she walked all these
weeks.  Here now, was some bowl control, AND corner paper usage.  Naturally
I was thrilled.
 
Maria was still in the lead, and briskly galloped into the den.  She made
her way Into the middle of the room--=the masses of bouncing ferrets ran
through the carpeted airplane, and into a large plastic box with blankets
and toys.  Chaos reigned.  The crowd was eating out of Marias' hands.  Into
the middle of the carpet she backed, and a little squiggle and wet spot
extruded.  The riotous crowd frenzied into leaping off the airplane onto
silly ferrets below, and did not notice my lack of delight.
 
Directly, Maria was off again looking for adventure.  The crowd-drunk with
MIS-behavior-rolled and leaped and chortled after her.  Chirping, hissing,
chortles.scritch, scritch: silence.  I remained on the floor peering with
dismay at yet another poopie spot in the carpeting--my great mood a bit
dampened.  Ahh well-get this stuff up now.  Where is that rug cleaner?
 
As I knelt cleaning the residue from the carpet, a loud sharp crack of
glass hitting tile startled my ears.  A Mini-Me long and angry war cry
followed.  As I ran out to investigate, I realized that my honorary
privileges for the morning had ended.  I stepped out of the room now a
caretaker, poop cleaner, and frightened mother:::::no longer a member of
"the elite entourage."
 
Lisette
[Posted in FML issue 3491]