Dear Ferret Folks- About two weeks ago an old friend whose voice I had not heard in a long time called me, asking for a favor. Was I perhaps still collecting ferrets? A friend of a friend had two that needed to be re-homed. Apparently there was an asthma problem. I took a deep breath. I explained calmly and politely that actually, I did not collect ferrets. I did have two, and that was plenty for me. "What," thinking << DUMP>> "was the problem?" There was a long sad story involving a toddler and asthma. They loved the ferrets, really. But would I please help them out, as a special favor? I said "Eric, I would absolutely hate to get involved, but yes, I will help re-home them. I will not keep them myself. I am at my limit now." He laughed. He said "Same old Alex, you say what you mean." Yes, I do. And I told him to give the people my number. I spoke with the Mother. They loved the ferrets, a little boy and a girl. How much was I thinking of buying them for? I smiled hugely into the backlit screen of my cellphone. I explained that actually, I did not buy ferrets. I helped them find new homes from time to time. I suggested that as hers were still quite young, she waste no time. It was easier to find homes for the young cute ones. I suggested that she stop shampooing them, if that was what she was doing to cut down on asthma attacks. I explained about the shampoo stripping the oil from the skin, and the rebound effect. Then I got off the phone quickly and deleted her number. I really hoped that she deleted mine. But I suspected that I would hear from her again, and soon. The next day my friend Eric called me and said "Oh I maybe forgot to mention that she was hoping to sell them?" "Yes," I said. "You did overlook that." "Sorry 'bout that." "No harm done. I don't buy ferrets. There are so many ferrets dumped in shelters. More and more every day, especially in this economy." "Oh." Well, sure enough a few days ago, the Mother called back. She had not deleted my number, just in case. And it was such a surprise that she couldn't sell those kits, she had papers for them! Imagine that. Papers. I went to pick them up today. They are small, beautiful, and perfect in every way. Two little blue dots in the ear. No follow up vaccinations. No vet. They bought them about five weeks ago. The teenaged daughter (old enough to drive) swore that she would take care of them. No more mention was made of the toddler with asthma. I never saw any toddler, I suppose there could have been one, somewhere. They of course loved the ferrets. The ferrets had no bedding or hammie. They slept inside a plastic exercise ball partially filled with wood shavings inside their cage. Tomorrow I bring them to Diddy Wheeler, which is about the best possible thing that could happen to them. But I don't know how ladies like Diddy do what they do. The MAFF ladies. South Shore Ferret. Little Feet. Those are just the Cape Cod area shelters that I can name off of the top of my head. I have only rescued four ferrets in the last year. Two I found forever homes for on my own, (They were out on the street in a cage with a sign that read "free") and these last two are going to a shelter. And that is more than enough to teach me that I could not foster. I could not run a shelter. I could not deal with the tiny I.V. needles, the flagyl spit-up in the middle of the night, the glucose crashes and seizures. But by God, the thing I really could not deal with is: "Of COURSE we love the ferrets, but we JUST can't keep them. I'm NOT the kind of person who gives pets away. I'd like to donate the cage, I hope that the shelter can use it. Can you imagine? With that cage you are looking at THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS! (I wonder what Diddy will spend to vaccinate and feed your ferrets?) And I hope my ferrets can go to a new home together, they are so loving. They love each other very much, we wouldn't want them separated. Thank you for understanding, and thank you for your help! You are a really good person!" No, I am not. Because I'd like to tamp people like you into the barrel of a cannon with a long stick and shoot you into a brick wall. Boom. Five weeks. They had them for five weeks. When I got the first call, they had only had them for three. Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML 7411]