As our scene opens, it is a bright, sterling morning in New England. The rain has moved on, and the air is fragrant with fresh grass and warm earth. Dragonflies buzz here and there like colorful, prehistoric helicopters and alight on the high bush blueberry, looking for prey. The neighbourhood's cardinal couple swing on the birdfeeder, the male a slash of scarlet that makes me envy the drab female. She must have somethin' goin' on to bind him to her! He is so very, very red, and his yellow beak is just the color of a black eyed susan's petals. This is the kind of day that makes you feel younger, stronger, and so fundamentally grateful to see it that you wither in shame for one instant, just an instant that reminds you how often you take life for granted. Then the moment passes, and you raise your face to the warm sun and all bad feelings are burned away in its celestial furnace. Inside the Sargent-Colburn household it's quiet, still, and shady. The ferret room is still cool from the dawn's dew, and the loudest sound is the crunch of kibble, as Todd the Butter-Butt (now slender at summer-weight) squats down in front of the cage's J-feeder and helps himself to breakfast. From the soft blue paisley hammie on the top level comes a sigh. It is Todd's companion Caff-Pow. He sighs again, a bit lounder with more than a hint of melodrama to it. Todd never stops crunching. "You *could* at least come back to the hammie and snuggle me some more, Uncle Todd. Or groom me. Or something." said Caff-Pow. Todd stopped his breakfasting for an instant, just long enough to say "You'll be fine. Get over yourself." Then the crunching resumed. "But you don't understand! You were just a little kit when you got neutered. You don't even remember it. My 'nads were so big and handsome! I had plans." "Plans!" scoffed Todd, who stopped crunching and regarded Caff-Pow with a glare that furrowed the older ferret's brow. Todd's ears hitched back a notch and he licked the kibble crumbs from his whiskers. "Yes, plans!" said Caff-Pow, who switched his tail excitedly like a little puppy as he closed his eyes and reminisced. "I was going to musk the whole house to let the girls know I was on the market and available. I was going to musk both sofas, too. And the dog's armchair." "Huh!" grunted Todd. You think the hoomins didn't know about those plans? That's why they neutered you, little buddy. That and the way you jumped up onto the buffet table the other night and knocked over the hoomin's family photographs and all the glass they were framed in." "Yeah," chuckled Caff-Pow. "That *was* cool!" "*That* got you snipped, kid." At that Caff-Pow huffed sulkily, and turned over in the hammie, showing Todd his back. Todd simply turned back to the J-feeder, and resumed crunching. Caff-Pow gave another one of his dramatic sighs and said proudly "The vet said that I weighed three and a half-pounds!" Todd chewed his last mouth full of kibble thoughtfully, and considered. He turned to look at his young compantion and asked conversationally "Was that before she neutered you or after?" Caff-Pow's head whipped around to give Todd a scorching glare. Todd just chuckled, darkly. With an economy of movement Caff-Pow turned in the hammie and burrowed into the sleep sack. Several inches of tail hung from the opening. After a few moments his muffled voice issued from the sack. He said with an icy calm "Well, I can still *poof*, you know. Do you know? Would you LIKE to know, Uncle Todd?" Slowly, Todd left the J-feeder and climbed up into the soft blue paisley hammie, the one that came with Caff-Pow from his Devore Mommy back when Caff-Pow lived with her and his his ferret Mommy, Val, and all of his brothers and sisters. Todd slithered noiselessly into the sleep sack, only his back feet and tail protruding. A final kick, and both feet disappeared. Two tails hung out of the opening. There was a minute of silence. Finally Todd's muffled voice replied simply "Nope." Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML 6390]