Greetings to all, and those who've lost their fur kids or have sick ones,
my heart goes out to you.  I thought I'd share with all of you my two
scares and the great laughter of the past 2 1/2 weeks.
 
About two weeks ago I was upstairs while the Crew was out, doing their
merry mayheming.  As I walked across the floor Mookie decided to attack my
leg and throw me off balance.  I was in midstride and as my foot came down,
Fang decided to teleport herself under my left foot.  Luckily I had on my
moccasins and felt her.  I rolled my foot off of her quick, but had the
feeling I'd had her neck under my foot.  She took off like a shot, I was in
tears, and I caught her under the desk.  This is about the third time this
has happened, so needless to say I was more than a little shook up.  I'm
beginning to think she has a death wish.  Anyway, got her, she was shaking
(I was shaking more) and I checked her all over.  I watched her very
carefully and she was fine.  But, I'm happy to say, she stays a little
farther away from feet now, although I have discovered I now do the fuzzy
shuffle when they're out.
 
A little over a week and a half ago I was putting the 8 up so I could let
the three out.  Mookie was under the desk, snoozing away, and I thought-
hey, he gets along with Misty, so I'll leave him out.  That way when he
wakes up they can all play.  About two hours later I put the three up,
totally forgetting Mookie.  Somewhere in my tired brain the thought
was-keep the barricade up tonight-but I didn't listen.  Picked up all the
pans, took up the barricade, crashed.  Got up the next morning ready to go
work out and discovered my juvenile delinquent cats had stolen my workout
socks and taken them downstairs.  So down I go, stuff all over the living
room, Chewie's heart medicine and Lasix spilled out of the bottle onto the
floor thanks to them, and I look over into the dining room.  Our daughter
had just bought a hanging plant and well, being a teen, left the potting
soil in the dining room, on the floor.  There's dirt everywhere, the cats
are looking at me with the most innocent looks.  So up I go, get the kid
up, tell her go clean that up.
 
I'm getting dressed and I hear this slightly amazed/panicked voice
downstairs say MOOKIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN HERE????  I don't remember
hitting all the stairs, and there he was in her arms, looking sooo pleased
with himself.  She looks at me and says, well, now I know how the dirt got
spilled.  All I could do was cradle him, remember that I'd forgotten to put
him up.  So I bundled him into a carrier and took him to work with me.
With the heart pills and Lasix on the floor I needed to talk to Dr. Martin.
I was so shook-how long he'd been down there nobody knows.  We have a vent
for a dryer that I've got covered with a lid because the ferrets aren't
downstairs and all I could think was thank God he didn't find that and
disappear.
 
Well, talked to Dr. Martin and she said the Lasix would only make him pee
if he got it, to watch him, and she was just down the hall.  Little bugger
was fine, got to go around and see people.  I did notice the lovely muddy
dirt around his nails and his coat was a little grittier shall we say.  And
I'm really paranoid now counting and recounting and recounting all the
fuzzies when they're up for bedtime.
 
Well, this past week Mookie wakes us up coughing and hacking, and wheezing.
So, into the case, back to work.  I got an appointment with Dr. Martin and
took Mookie in.  The students are examining him, he's trying to steal the
stethoscopes and anything he can get to.  They had to take his temp so I
told them Nutrical on a tongue depressor.  Poor guy-he loves this stuff
so much he'll do anything for it, and this can prove it!  They were all
laughing because he'd eat it off the depressor faster than it got on there,
then he tried to steal the tube.  So, they get the results and Dr. Martin
comes in.  I swear Mookie has the biggest crush on her.  She comes through
the door going It's MOOKIE and he flies off the table into her arms!  She's
hugging and petting, he's loving it.  She tries to take his temp and the
next thing we know he's up her coat sleeve.  All we can see is his back
legs and tail.  Now, she's a little gal and he's all the way up her coat,
she's dying laughing and nobody else in the exam room is sane at this
moment.  All of a sudden he drops into the front of the coat and his head
pops out.  She goes LOOK-my coat is giving birth to a ferret!  We finally
get him out and we all get our breath back, he tries to steal the
stethoscope again.  Results of the cough and wheeze??  He's fine-no
congestion, nothing.  She told me to watch him and if it keeps up we'll do
x-rays.  In the meantime he's just loving her holding him, trying to steal
things out of her pockets and get the Nutrical from her.  I think I have
a hypochondriac for a ferret-either that or a love struck one with the
office.  Dr. Martin said she was going to tell her husband she had a
patient get fresh with her today and she enjoyed it.  I said yep, tell him
a young guy, sort of gray/white haired there!  Mookie loves to go with me
and thinks he should get to everyday.  I swear he'd go to Dr. Martin's
house in a heartbeat and not miss any of us, so I make sure he's content
and has lots of Nutrical.
 
Rebecca & the Crew of Merry Mayhem
"Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for thou art crunchy and taste
 good with ketchup"
[Posted in FML issue 3122]