This is the story of Little White Girl-- my first rescue! I have been ferretless and petless for more than a year, mourning the loss of my dear little sable girl Weezie, who died from adrenal disease last March. For reasons beyond my control, I was unable to adopt another pet during this time, and things were really, really hard for me. I can't begin to describe the loneliness, a huge overwhelming empty hole of despair that only a little weasel heart could fill. I planted lavender, yarrow and scented geraniums in her little garden, and watered it every day. I put a sleeping angel there to watch over her. I cried nearly every night, missing the little one who used to sleep by my foot and cover me with morning kisses. Weezie eventually visited me in a dream, and some of the pain lifted. And I would often remember the afternoon (a few months before Weezie's death) that I actually saw the image of a small white ferret running through my room and around the corner to the bathroom, where the litterbox was. When I followed it and looked into the bathroom, there was nothing there. I was never sure of what I'd had seen, or why it had appeared to me. And then... Just last month, my room-mate and I finally had the chance to take a train ride south and visit his sister and brother-in-law. We had heard that the neighbors had ferrets, and we were dying to meet them. We asked about them, and learned that there was only one left. We went next door to meet the ferret. And oh, what did we see! A little white girl in a big dirty cage, sleeping in a filthy hammock. There were no blankies, no toys, nothing to crawl under or hide in. Just a big cage with two very, very nasty-looking hammocks. There was a lot of poop on the cage floor, which was where the food and water dishes were. The feeder was one of those bin-feeder things, and it looked pretty dirty (at least there was some food in it). There was water in the water bowl too, but leaves were floating in it, and it did not look clean. The owner woke her up by pushing on her hammock, and she fell out of the hammock (three floors high) and landed on the floor. He handed her over to me. She was a slender little DEW with burgundy eyes. Scattered throughout her white coat were many black hairs. She was missing an arm. Two years ago a raccoon had gotten to the cage and had mauled her arm so badly that it had to be amputated. Now the little girl's cage was in a part of the yard which was guarded by the dogs, who seemed to be very protective of her. I took her in my arms and the first thing she did was nip my bare arm. I petted her a little and handed her over to my room-mate. She mouthed him and then leaned up to give him a kiss on the chin. He passed her over to his sister, who also got mouthed on the arm. By this time, the little girl was wiggly, so she was returned to her cage, where she promptly pooped. The owner told us that he originally had more ferrets, but one by one, they had died, leaving only two remaining. The children had never been contientious about locking the cage, and the ferrets had escaped on several occasions. Last year, the little girl's cagemate had managed to escape and make his way into someone's yard, where he was killed by the dogs. Now, this little one was all by herself. The children had lost interest in her, and no one ever took her out of the cage or played with her anymore. So she just sat in her cage by the back door, day after day, with only the dogs for company. The owner could not even remember her name. He asked me if I wanted her. Oh how I wanted to rescue her right then and there! But I was dealing with an agonizing No Pets situation at home, and in any case, we couldn't take her (not to mention her cage) back with us on the train. "You can't rescue every little creature," my room-mate told me as we sadly walked back to his sister's house. I couldn't get that little face out of my mind. Both of us thought about her all the way home. How could such a beautiful little Being not have a NAME? Whenever I spoke of her, I called her Little White Girl. I called the local ferret rescue contact, who was willing to take her, but it was clear that she was already overwhelmed and exhausted with many little needy ones. And then Little White Girl's owner suddenly changed his mind. Now he wanted to give her to one of his son's friends rather than turn her over to the rescue lady. I was so discouraged. I didn't know what to do next. So I prayed-- HARD. I simply couldn't conceive of a world that would let someone like me into Little White Girl's life for no purpose whatsoever. There had to be some karmic reason that I was brought to her! And then my room-mate's sister called us. The owner had changed his mind again. He would sell us the cage, with Little White Girl in it, for fifty dollars. Did we want it? My room-mate had one last "ace" up his sleeve-- one I had been stalling on for vague reasons-- and he laid it on the table. Amazingly and unexpectedly, it WORKED! Our No Pets situation (which was virtually set in stone and absolutely rigid) was suddenly NOT a factor anymore! I was so happy that I just came unglued. My room-mate's sister paid the owner ahead of time, as he was going out of town for a month. We took the car this time and drove down to get our precious new child. And that's the FIRST thing we did when we got to town. Since the owner was gone on vacation, a neighbor boy helped us hoist the cage over the fence. My room-mate set to work cleaning and collapsing the cage, and I put Little White Girl in a clean travel cage, along with her old food (only eleven nuggets left!) and a little stuffed dog toy. When I reached in to put a water bowl down, she lunged at me and nipped my arm again. I decided not to stick my arm in there anymore. But I really didn't like the look of her old food. So I began hand-feeding her nuggets of Totally Ferret food through the bars of the cage. Oh, you should have seen her wolf them down! I have NEVER seen any animal eat so voraciously! She practically inhaled them! She just couldn't get enough! (and here I had been worrying about how in the world I would manage to switch her food! I had no idea what her old food was!) As hungry as she was, she never bit or even mouthed my fingers. Gradually she slowed down, and took the nuggets gracefully and politely in her mouth. And then she crawled under her new sweatshirt to go to sleep. I didn't sleep a wink all night, worrying about her. In the morning I hand-fed her again. Everyone came in to admire her, and she regarded them solemnly with her dark eyes. She slept all the way home, never once raising herself up to see where we were going. We got her cage all reassembled, and I added a new sleeping pouch and hammock. We covered the narrow shelves with towels and sweatshirts, and added a few toys. We put food and water on the top shelf, right near the sleeping pouch, where it would be easy to reach. We lined the bottom with newspaper, since she had made it clear that she had no use for litterboxes. And then my room-mate lifted Little White Girl up and put her in the cage. Oh, if only you could have seen her! She hurried up all the ramps to the top floor (you could never tell that she only had three legs) and then hurried back down, exploring everything. She rolled the ball and tussled with the little dog toy. And then... she began war dancing! She danced and danced, with her mouth wide open! She did somersaults! She came up to the side of the cage and stood on her hind legs, looking at us! She rolled around several times and ended up on her back, smiling! And after playing with her dog a bit, and eating some of her new food, she went to sleep in her sleeping pouch with her little head sticking out-- just like a tiny person in bed. After awhile she curled up deep inside the pouch, so happy to finally be able to be under something, safe and private in her very own clean bed! Her cage sits in the living room, so she can be near us. She can hear us talking, and listen to the sound of the TV. We talk to her every time we walk by the cage, and sometimes we give her treats. Yesterday we took Little White Girl to the vet for vaccinations and an exam. She weighs almost two pounds! Her coat is soft and lustrous, and her tail is fluffy and full. Her eyes are shiny and her ears look clean. She is a Marshall Farms girl, and we estimate her age to be about three and a half. She was a good girl and didn't try to nip anyone except when she was getting her shots (our vet is too fast for her!) The only thing wrong with her is giardia, which explains the runny little poops. Amazing-- considering the new information I was given just last night-- her old owner was feeding her DOG FOOD! So now we have nasty-tasting medicine to give her every night for five days. She struggles and squirms and spits it all over us, but so far she hasn't tried to nip either of us during the medicine process. She still nips my arm, especially if I am not wearing long sleeves. It's kind of scary, since I've always been afraid of biters and never ever thought I'd have to deal with one. I tell her "No bite!" in a stern voice, and hold her close to me, petting her head for a few moments. I've been hand-feeding her treats through the bars of the cage, which she takes carefully and delicately. She never refuses anything. She will lick Ferretvite and Petromalt right off my hand without trying to nip. Soon I will begin taking her out of the cage for supervised playtime (on linoleum). I think that some day she will be a very good girl. "She's a good girl already," my room-mate says. Now she has a name of her very own. I have named her Tessa. My room-mate tells me that it means "Treasure." [JE] [Posted in FML issue 3824]