Dear Ferret Folks- Well, it is finally, finally over. Ten of the most unpleasant days in this hoomin's life. The ten days in which I had to MEDICATE Ping is He. It started so innocently. My two year old nephew spent a little time playing with Ping. I noticed that the child had a runny nose, but I thought nothing of it. Two year olds *often* have runny noses. A few days later, I noticed that someone in the Ferret Room was not pooping properly. These were runny, pale poops. I had to watch Ping and Puma do the backing up thing (what fun), and then I knew it was Ping delivering the sub-standard poops. I picked him up and examined him carefully. He was a little thin in the ribs. Not good. No, not good at all. Ferrets crash *fast*. So I called my excellent Vet, and made an appointment for him. All the way to the Vet's office, Ping sneezed. And sneezed again. In total, he sneezed seven times in a twenty minute time period. Not good. Not good at all. Ferrets crash *fast*. I can't repeat this warning often enough if you are a new ferret hoomin out there. Get them to the Vet when they seem sick. If you wait, telling yourself it would cost a lot, you are setting yourself up for a financial hurtin'. The cost of "rebuilding" a ferret once he has crashed is *much* higher than just taking him to the Vet in the first place. The excellent Vet poked Ping, prodded him, weighed him, listened to his little engine with her stethoscope. I brought poo for her to look at in a ziplock bag, and it was duly taken upstairs to be tested for several sorts of vileness. (It saves a lot of time if you can just bring poo, instead of describing it.) Well, Ping was taken away to be hydrated. This is a euphemism for "given an I.V. so he does not crash." I warned the Vet Tech that this was not a ferret, this was a Pigmy Wolverine, but she just gave me one of those smirky "I've seen everything, Lady" looks. Sure. OK. Go handle it. Show me how the professionals do it. Knock yourself dead, Vet Tech. She came back about a half hour later apologizing, looking somewhat deflated, saying she had found it necessary to stick him several times in her attempts to "hydrate" him. She looked much more respectful. She handed him back to me saying "He is a *dominant* one, isn't he?" Then she fled. I had warned her. Ping was grinning, I swear. The poo was found to be free of several really worrisome types of vileness, and my Vet said she believed he had the flu. I was given a little bag of meds, and some empty syringes. I was told "medicate him with these twice a day for ten days." Oh god. Medicate Ping is He. He is not a ferret, he is a Pygmy Wolverine. Have you ever seen Steven King's "The Shining", with Jack Nicholson? Well, imagine trying to hold Jack down and squirt medicine into his mouth. Imagine scratching, clawing, twisting, huffing, and Jack Nicholson with pretty pink amoxycillin foam all over his face. Sort of like a mad dog at a little girl's birthday party. Very pink.like Canada Mints. Pepto Bismol. That kind of aggressively pink pink. Then comes the Flagyl. That's about when Jack's character picks up the axe and starts chasing his wife through the corridors of the Overlook Hotel. Imagine gray foam this time. Wads of it streaming from his mouth, down his chin. He shakes his head, and you are wearing it. Imagine more twisting, huffing, clawing and scratching. Imagine doing this to Jack Nicholson twice a day for ten days, while the Overlook Hotel is reduced to so much smashed wallboard, and the Topiary Animals come marching up the driveway to kill Mr. Halloran. Now my husband is sick. Like Ping, he's been running a small fever. His nose has been drippy. There has been sneezing. I don't know about the state of his poops, and I don't want to. Puma and I are a little stressed out. Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML issue 5147]