Dear Sukie- Don't care what nooo steeenkin' Walker's Mammals say! Switch the Kit, my husband's ferret, is unquestionably a little dog, yes. No arguement. You got me there. She is loyal and loving to my husband, the dog person. Together, they sit on the sofa in front of the TV, eat cheese-puffs and slurp rootbeer. Switch NEVER bites him, no. Just me, the cat-person. Hurricane Lily, however, MY ferret, is a little *cat*! She is above it all, unconcerned with worldly matters, and half-way to Buddahood, like any self-respecting *cat*. She spends most of her life in contemplative meditation, preferably in a sunbeam, like a little *cat*! Like any *cat*, she does not suffer fools or foolishness gladly, and she never, EVER, searches for answers to her own trancenDENTAL (tooth pun intended) nature between the covers of Walker's Mammals of the World! She invites you to come over and try to pry her mouth open to prove your abusurd assertion that she has canine, rather than feline ancestors, she says, shuddering at the memory of Switch wagging her little tail in bliss when she sees my husband walk past the door to the ferret room. Most undignified! Switch begs, BEGS like a little dog to be picked up! Further, YOUR teeth may be designed to eat grains and seeds, MINE are designed to eat chocolate truffles. I do MY hunter-gathering at Trader Joe's, not the African savannah! (And those nasty slashing canines typical of our primate cousins the Baboon? Intended to pierce the thick plastic wrapping on nukable TV dinners. They just haven't invented the microwave yet. They're evolving toward that as fast as they can, you would too if termites were on the menu day after day.) And what's this business about a "well-padded bottom"? Are you sayin' I got a fat ass, you, you CRANDALL? Alexandra in MA Blissfully untroubled by facts! They just get in the way. [Posted in FML issue 4709]