Dear Ferret Folks- OK, I guess now I have seen everything. Over the years there have been several types of people who have been guests in my home. There are the few who actively dislike ferrets, like my mother and mother in law. They complain about the smell,(what smell?) the possibility of being bitten (well, yeah, Puma...), the tedium of my ceaseless interest in a subject that bores them...but they do their *itching politely, and tolerate the presence of wandering ferrets well when the little guys are out free roaming. In the end, they find my obsession acceptable on some level because I actually make a little bit of kibble writing for that magazine that they don't read. It's only fair, says I. I am endlessly bored by my mother's ability to tell THE SAME story 16, 984 times over and over again, whether or not anyone is listening. As for my mother in law, I would rather eat a pound of dust than have to try to share her interest in Christmas Village collectable ceramic model houses. We will simply pass over her morbid fascination with lighthouse themed everything in silence. That floats *their* boats. I like ferrets. These ladies are honest in their dislike, and I cannot fault them for it. Then there are my guests that are just *petrified* by the weasels. They are polite when the little guys are out free roaming, but they most certainly don't want to be *touched* by mustelids. They are almost uniformly a polite lot. I understand. I wouldn't want someone's pet tarantula crawling on me, but I could show a polite interest in the tarantula if a someone were showing it to me with genuine interest and enthusiasm. Being a good host, I am careful to rescue the PBW's (Petrified By Weasels) and put my little guys back in their cage for the duration of the PBW's visit. My mother raised me to be a gracious host. She's told me so. 16, 984 times. Far and away though, the great majority of my guests are extremely interested in the weasels, and enjoy visiting with them. My brother in law inevitably tries to play with one in ways it doesn't want to be played with, and experiences ferret *correction*. How is it that he never learns? You don't pick Ping up like a sack and try nibbling on his belly. (Someday I'm going to let my brother in law know just where Ping stores what is left of his family jewels...but I am waiting for just the right time.) Children inevitably love having the weasels out, they beg to have the weasels out. Even knowing as my little nephew R.J. does that "Puma bitses." They are willing to take their chances. They play with the ferrets, run from the ferrets shrieking, run toward the ferrets shrieking...And the ferrets are pretty good sports about it. People who have never seen a ferret before ask all kinds of questions, and like to give them little pats, and show genuine interest. Then there is Jeff. Yes, Jeff. One of our computer geek friends from California. Jeff is I believe the only Ferret Neutral Individual I have ever encountered. He was just a house guest here, and I swear, he showed no interest in the ferrets whatsoever. He wasn't disgusted. He wasn't afraid. He had no more reaction to them than if they were baked potatoes, lying in little tinfoil jackets to keep warm in a basket. When they got interested in his feet, he silently withdrew his feet. When they ran around war dancing, he turned his gaze to the nearest hoomin and kept talking. The most passion they got out of him was a furious war dance, that inspired him to remark mildly that "that backing up thing is interesting." But then he started talking about something else. He could Not. Have. Cared. Less. HOW? How is it that anyone can IGNORE the spectacle that is ferret? The passion? The personality that is ferret? Even the folks I know who *hate* them don't talk about much else when the ferrets are doing their sniff and scamper around the living room. The Ferret Neutral Individual. Apparently there are such unfortunates. Perhaps their problem has a genetic basis, some key chromosome doubled or missing or otherwise mutated. HOW can you ignore a pigmy wolverine trying to crawl into your shoe? Up your leg? Frolicking on the carpet at your feet, inviting you to *play* with them, dangnabit! C'mon, hoomin! Play with me! Perhaps we will never know what motivates the Ferret Neutral Individual. But we can pity him, oh yes. Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML 5783]