I live on a ground floor apartment with a low living room window, and unrelenting southern exposure, making my place a solar furnace. So, I slide open the window and stick a fan in the opening. I also have two ferrets, Max and Edgar. Edgar is relatively thin and small and can't quite get up to the sill. Max is a two foot long beast with enough hops to be able to leap to the window sill and then down to the ground in about two seconds, if need be. Usually there is a fan in his way, and he struggles and scratches a bit to get up, and then hesitates before trying to get down to the ground, providing enough warning and time to grab him before he makes it. Most every time=20I stop him long before he even tries to get up, either by bopping him on the nose, diverting his attention, closing the window (and dying of heat stroke), or locking the both of them in the kitchen (their "jail"). Practice makes perfect, of course. Over the weeks of warm weather, Max has become more stealthy, adept, and fearless. Several times I have pulled him in at the last second. Once, a few weeks ago, I was sitting right here (5 yards from the window, with a clear, direct view), and the nice woman next door says "Hello?" through my window, and, you guessed it, she's got Max, who had gone to visit them. Had they not been outside at the time...whither Max? Sooo... over the past two weeks I have scooped Max up off the ground about three times, each of which I just missed him on the sill, so no big deal, right? Last night he zips up and out, and I'm there in about 5 seconds. No Max. I climb out. No movement in the vines and other foliage on the ground. My friend starts saying that he ran into my bedroom (?), but I *know* I saw his fuzzy butt= go over the sill. I finally find him in about 20 seconds over towards the neighbors. Whew! You'd think I'd learn. Tonight I'm working in the living room with the computer and a halogen floor lamp on. The place is heating up. A lot. The ferrets are elswhere, so I open the window and stick the fan in the opening. What relief. A bit later the ferrets have settled down and gone to sleep under the futon, where I take some papers to= file in files next to the futon. At some point I hear a "little voice" whisper something about checking on the ferrets, but I am busy, and besides, I will see and hear if they come out, and certainly if Max were to scratch his way up to the sill. A bit later, maybe five minutes, I do check on the ferrets. There's Edgar, under the futon, just woken up, and.... I get a better angle, and grab the handy flashlight. I check the other side of the frame. I lift up the frame. I lift up the other side. No Max! "....no...no..." I sweep the apartment. Gone. I race to the window, move the fan, and look down. Nothing. I jump out, and stand still. No movement. No Max. I walk around a fifteen foot radius looking for immediate signs. Nothing. Go back in grab the flashlight and the only thing he ever comes for: the squeeky pink head of chipmunk, as well as Edgar (on a leash), thinking he might be of some help. I search the landscaping in front of the apartment from the curb, looking down to most of the area. Edgar is fussy, and apparently going to be more of a burden than a help, since I'm thinking I don't want him on the ground, where I might let go of the leash while working the flashlight and squeeky-toy. No Max. I put Edgar back inside. Back outside, I search the The Pit (about five feet down) underneath the elevated concrete walkway dividing off part of the landscaping. Under the walkway itself. The landscaping on the other side of the walkway. Aaaah! Nothing. For about an hour or so I search the perimeter of the apartment, the block I live on and a block in every direction: Figuring he wouldn't have gone past the dead-end I live on towards the busy street below, I start up the hill in the opposite direction. I get about a half-block up the hill and start to breathe a bit heavier, and I think, "If *I'm* starting to breath heavier, no way did Mr. Fat-butt make it this far. He's probably lain down and gone to sleep somewhere." And I *knew* *that* had to be true; that little voice again. Lazy ferret. Nonetheless, I must keep searching; what other option? Three or four laps around the apartment and the building next door which has a walkway along the 1-2 acre "greenbelt", which connects one side of the block with the other, where I think he must have gone, if he indeed went anywhere. Stopping every few feet along and into (as far as I could go) the greenbelt to squeek his toy. Nothing. Around the block again. Around the aparment again. Around the next block twice. Back to the greenbelt, entering from a different side. Re-check the landscaping in front of the apartment. By now, I've taken out and put back my bicycle, rechecked the apartment at least three times, and done at least six circuits around the area. I'm starting to *really* miss him, like maybe he's not just gone for a couple hours, tears welling up a bit as I go back into my apartment to see, again, if he was just hiding somewhere. Nothing but Egdar, who's quite happy to see me, front paws up on my leg. I decide to try using Edgar as a bloodhound. Yeah, right. Leash on. Outside to just below the windows. He seems to pick up a scent and then gradually swims his way through the wet vines and other six-inch high foliage towards the neighbors, where he becomes quite interested in their little barbeque. Hmmmm, maybe not. I take him back over to the window and he sniffs around some more and then works his way in the other direction, with rather a bit of bounce and enthusiasm. About twenty feet away, he checks out The Pit, almost falling in. (Gotta love the harness leash!) Then up the dirt slope under the walkway. He *really* wants to continue under the walkway and up the bank, but no way am I letting go of the leash, nor do I see any Max under there. I take him around to the other side and set him on the curb, next to where the bank, walkway, and curb meet, thinking maybe he'll pick up the scent on this side. He wanders down the curb a couple yards. And then...a noise. I swivel and look at the foliage at the top of the bank next to the walkway and catch the briefest flash of two blue-green gems. *That* wasn't like those *other* false flashes of light in the eyes. I see a critter...could be rat or possum, best not to get my hopes up. Squeek the toy. Out bounces a ferret! But...dim light...underbrush...that doesn't look like Max. This approaching ferret is dusty brown and uniform in color, unlike Max, a silver mitt. "How odd that I should lose Max and find this ferret! Hope it doesn't have rabies..." The ferret approaches, and HEY!...it IS Max! Dirty paws and all! A good rinse in the tub for both of them, and generous helpings of Linatone. Aside from what must be slug slime on a couple of his paws and in a few spots on his fur, Max is none the worse. I *knew* he was sleeping somewhere. I remember now how ferrets are used in England strictly for hunting, and not kept as pets. I guess Edgar had started to miss Max, too, and was able to sniff him out. The moral of the story, of course, is that silver mitts *really can* teleport! :-) [Posted in FML issue 1635]