When I read Matthew Hepp's recount of his "dead ferret," I fell of my chair laughing. The same thing has happened to me several times with my own fuzzies, as well as other assorted mustelids. The worst SND (Sleeping Not Dead) fright occurred as an undergraduate student working with mink. I had captured a gravid three- or four-year-old, and had placed her in a dark sack to calm her (and weigh her) while I was calculating the dosage required to safely sedate her for physical examination I took a while, because I wanted to be extra careful to protect the babies. Using a pair of "chicken-processing" gloves (they have metal inserts to keep the knife off the skin should the operator slip; perfect for razor-sharp teeth), I reached in and pulled out a totally limp mommy-to-be. Holding her gently, I rolled her back and forth for any reaction, but found none. In a panic, I pulled off my gloves to check for a heart beat, but my own heart was racing so fast I couldn't be sure if I felt anything. So I decided to listen for her breathing. Less than a second later, I had a pierced ear, a stitched hand, and a somewhat irritated mink chasing me around the small RV we were using as a field lab. She hissed like a banshee, smelled like nothing you have ever smelled before, and (I SWEAR!) grew an extra foot during the encounter. She looked like an evil satanic bear with red eyes and everything. She even smelled like she excaped from hell. I calmly asked for help, but everyone outside was too interested in the humor of the situation to help much. My professor shouted, "You came to learn, so learn!" (Well, more like choked it out through bits of vulgar laughter. He was sorry later; his butt was sore where he fell on it while laughing). Fortunately, as I was circling the inside of the RV at top speed, I found a blanket to throw over her, and quietly diffused the situation to everyone's general relief. Momma was locked up for 45 days and gave birth to seven mean little beasties (each had a different devil name; Lucifer, Satan, etc. Momma was simply known as "The Devil in a Mink Coat"). All were later released into the wild to spread their evil influence and tip cows (I have evidence that mink are the evil cow-tippers, and are blaming it on their civilized ferret cousins; I am selling the story to the Fox network). I had seven stitches in my finger and a rabies series, and became an example on the lab handout, under, "Thou shalt not listen to a wild animal's respirations without a stethoscope." But it wasn't a total loss; since I was already pierced, I put an earing through the hole in my ear. And that's how I was transformed from a "nature nerd" to a really cool dude. This is a true story, except the parts about being a really cool dude and being calm. Bob Moose, Stella, Daye, Tori, and Bear. Tori whines,"I NEVER get to pierce any ears..." "You don't know hell until you hear a mink scream." C.D. [Posted in FML issue 1363]