Dear Ferret Folks-Especially Animal Communicators- Why? Why does she do it? I'm not a bad person. I'm nice to weasles. I feed them, I play with them, I give them treats. I trim their little nails. I buy them toys. I make them toys. I crochet little blankies and hammies for them. I let them dig in my plants and they live to do it again, and again. I haul away their unspeakable droppings. Hurricane Lily loves to play with me. So does Switch the Kit. We kill Wal-Mart bags, we drag around the blue shag carpeted bath mats with the rubber backings. We play tug of war with shoe insoles. We bring out the ferretone. We have a blast. But every now and then, Switch gets this sneaky look on her face, and I know it. I just KNOW she's going to try to bite me. She squints, and her ears flatten down against the side of her head a little bit. She sets her whiskers in just a certain way. She won't ever look me full in the face when she's like this. And then...lick...lick-lick...CHOMP! Aargh! That little WEASEL *bites* me! It hurts! What's with her? She NEVER bites my husband, only me. And he hardly ever feeds them. He never trims their little nails. He never crochets them little blankies and hammies. (O.K., he did sew a sleep sack, but only once.)He never re-pots the plants so that the marauding mink wanna-be's can can have the pleasure of trashing them all over again. He *never* picks up their poop. He just gets down on the floor and chases them under the furniture, blue denim butt high up in the air, and makes outrageous noises while he does it. "Whee! Whee! Gotcha-gotcha-gotcha! Woo-hoo! C'mere, you weasels! Wheeee! Gonna git'cha!" The floor shakes. Lamps wobble on the tables. He has to flip his long, blonde ponytail out of his eyes every few seconds. He laughs like a maniac. Which he..well...sort of is, but that's not the point. They love him. I love him. I love them. He loves me. Lily loves me. He loves them. Switch loves Lily. Lily loves Switch. Switch *bites* me. This equation does NOT balance! It's not as if I ever bite her. I have bitten him a couple of times, but he starts it. That's not the point either. What was the point? Oh, hell, I forget. Oh, yes. The fang holes in my arm. All you animal communicators out there, you have my permission to probe her tiny little mind to find out what her problem is. Make your eyes spin like pinwheels like they do in the cartoons when someone is getting hyptnotized. She will go rigid like a frozen ferretsicle, her eyes will also spin like pinwheels while she falls totally beneath your control! (Sounds pretety cool, actually, need to try that with the husband.) All of her secrets will be revealed! Yesss! Please! Inquiring minds want to know! Alexandra in Massachusetts [Posted in FML issue 4327]