This post is being typed in by my beautiful and wonderful daughter because I have temporarily lost my close-focusing abilty due to a drug reaction. In the meantime, I'm reading things with a huge magnifier. Fun. The following story is to make-up for my earlier linguistics foopa. As many of you have noticed, when it comes to animals I tend to treat them as if I were one of them. I think it was Gina who mentioned scruffing the neck to insure domininace over the fuzzies; I swear by it. I also try to look at the ferret's surrounding as if I were a ferret in an effort to figure out what bores them or what excites them; I mean, besides plastic bags and jingle bells. As a result, I have adapted my play behavior to approximate theirs. Generally speaking, it means I get to roll around on the floor alot. (its so pitiful. My SO laughs at me more than the sofa-sharks....) I was engaged in such an intensive behavior with Tori last week. Tori is a petite albino female with slightly curly hair, all of six months old. We sing together! I sing "dooka-.....-dooka-dook" to the "Charge!" theme and she dooks in response. Have it on video. Of course, she only does it when SHE wants too, which is never when visitors can hear it, so I always have to show the video. Well, Tori and I were rolling on the floor, play fighting when I decided to do some open-mouth play with her. Usually, she gets a few inches from my mouth, and opens her's in response, and I kinda (softly) roar at her. She will normally dart off for me to chase her. However, this time she did the unexpected. She completely and totally stuck her head in my mouth. I mean, my incisors were on her occipital. I didn't know what to do, so for a couple of seconds, we just sat there, head in mouth. And then I started to get a strange sensation, almost a tickle on the back of my tongue. The SO, who was dumbstruck at the spectacle, says my eyes got real big about that time. Well, I pulled the Great White Shark from my mouth and started doing one of those Steve Martin "gross" dances, like the one you do when you think of your parents being, um, romantic. Why? Because Tori was licking the back of my tongue. Yuch! And I'm the guy that wipes off my wife's kisses. Well, I still do the open-mouth play and roar, but not nearly as close. Sukie--Is that spelled right? E-mail me and I'll send whatever references you like (that way I can use auto-respond instead of trying to read the address). Semiaquatic is defined as "growing or adapted to living near water or partially in water." Frankly, domestic ferrets have been removed from aquatic environments for a couple of thousand years, BUT the European polecat, many varieties of the steppe polecat, and feral fitch do fill that description. You don't always see this niche referent in British natural history books unless you look up some of the older ones, because introduced American mink stole the semi-aquatic niche away from the native polecats and fitch. Many modern British books describe how they currently live. However, most of the European and Russian sources I've read cite the semi-aquatic nature of the animal. Southern's "Handbook of British Mammals" cites marsh, river banks, and river valleys as part of a varied habitat exploitedby the beasties. The majority of the Welsh polecats and fitch live near or in marshland. Some might argue that humans are pushing them there, but since all sources observe both polecats and fitch choosing dens and feeding areas adjacent to human dwelling (more than likely to get to the mice and rats), the argument isn't very strong. I forgot who wanted fiction ferret references. Here's one: Anthony C. West. 1963 "The Ferret Fancier" Simon and Schuster. Basically a boy coming of age with his ferret named Jill. (On Montel...Boys and their Jills....) Bobby-o and the 13 Wunderfrettchen, assisted by Elizabeth. [Posted in FML issue 1414]