Though I'm no longer thrilled by Halloween, the children enjoy it, so Tues. PM I caved in and bought a bag of candy bars to hand out. The munchkins were happy. Thursday PM bedtime I tipped the sofa up on its end and out dropped two yawning ferrets. Ho-hum ... just like every other night. I was in the middle of a good yawn/belly-scratch myself when half a gnawed candy bar dropped out too. Both the paper and a good portion of candy bar were missing from each end. Daaaiiieeee! Remember that spaghetti scene in 'Lady and the Tramp?' Well ... this scene was less comical. They must've run out of gut room before they ran out of candy. Friday AM the litterbox was a disaster area -- thoughts of skipping work briefly crossed my mind -- but the water bottle had been half emptied, which meant they were drinking two to three times their normal amount without any prompting. Both were active, alert, and eating their regular food. Plus, the little porkers have put on a pound or two in the last 8 weeks. (Old lard-butt Woodrow can't even fit under the hall closet door [a 1 1/2" space] any more, and Arlo, who used to shoot right in, has to do quite a bit of back leg pumping to squeeze his ample derriere through). I cleaned the litter box, refilled the water bottle, and went to work. (I know, I know. I'm hopelessly undevoted.) Friday PM they were still shaking off the last effects of their indiscretion, but were ready as ever for a round of chase-me-chase-you. They really *are* resilient little buggers, aren't they. A game of toss-us-on-the-bed was declined by me, not them, because their bellies hadn't quite settled down yet, and a mistake on the comforter was all too likely. By Sat. AM things were pretty much back to normal. Other than the 20 hr. bout of Monty's revenge, there weren't any other outward signs. They didn't even lose much weight -- a 1/4 lb. at the most. You may recall that the boys and I have been battling for control of the sofas and boxsprings. Theoretically, they're not as smart as I am, though that's not a given. It *can* be empirically proven that I outweigh them by a large margin, so you'd think they'd be prohibitive underdogs in a head-to-head competition regardless of my stupidity. Nope. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" is my new philosophy. You know your ferrets are spoiled when you sacrifice a sofa to them in the hope that they'll spare what's left of the furniture. If not, there're a couple of ferrets that better take a good, hard look at the oh-so-short remainder of their lives. I keep telling 'em they'd make a fine hat or vest, but they think I'm only kidding. And I still don't know where they found that derned candy bar ... unless they put the tupperware lid back on??? Next comes Xmas and tinsel and ornaments. Oh joy. At least the fleas are finally in retreat. Swampp [Posted in FML issue 1369]