Holiday weekend, so today I'm playing a little 'hookey' from all the supposedly more 'useful,' 'necessary' stuff I'm supposed to be doing and luxuriating in some personal indulgence: high on the list being to read all those back FMLs I've been saving. Of course, a couple hours' solid FML-reading will result in a touch of emotional exhaustion (don't know about the rest of you guys, but reading tales of losses or sad/bad things happening to sweet fuzzies ALWAYS brings tears to my eyes...), but also results in some pent-up need for ferret-oriented communication, so (with apologies in advance on the length of this post, BIG!!!) here goes: CHRIS: Re: Squirrel's 'licky, licky, lick ... BITE!' thing -- I had at least one fertie, Winnifred (a.k.a. Woolie), who later in life acquired this fascination with forearms, where she would go from seemingly casual lick-your-arm-because-it's-there, to increasingly frenzied licking, followed by biteyness. We were never sure why she did this ... was it just a touch of 'dementia' due to her many medical problems and aging? We'll never know. But we didn't punish. We simply diverted, or short-circuited the behavior pattern, in that once we'd observed the progression, we'd just intervene each time with a little diversionary stuff, such as moving her from that particular arm, or showing her a game, or just setting her down on the floor instead of letting the 'frenzy' develop. You mention, too, that Squirrel is just a baby, so I'd suspect it's just another nippy-baby thing. If this is her only nippy-pattern as a baby, then sounds like she's got a long 'windup' before the 'punch' (bitey part of the behavior), so you should consider yourself fortunate that it fits a clear pattern with which you can intervene. LAURA Re: Singing to my ferrets! -- I thought I was the only loopy who sang to the ferrets. I don't sing to anyone else, and am certainly no singer, but they just seem to bring it out. Maybe it's a natural human response to the loving, gleeful, expansive feeling you get when in the company of ferties! When I sing to Winona, she just gazes at me, wide-eyed and sort of mesmerized-like. Maybe she's simply apalled! SHEENA Re: brazen mousies! -- We, too, (esp. now coming up on cooler weather) experience an influx of brazen mousies to our living space. We had thought before that just the scent of the ferties'd keep those mousies at bay, but N*O*T ! We actually bring it up as just one more example of how gentle and domesticated pet ferts have become, and it illustrates how badly they'd fare if thrown out into the 'wild' to fend for themselves. If it's not a kibble or a water-bottle, they don't know what to do with it (unless it's a little bug, I guess). Our dear little fuzzie-kins are no longer 'great hunters,' for the most part. This means we are now obligated to care for them. TRACY Re: quarantine -- Ever since we got our second fert, we have always observed a strict two-week quarantine on incoming ferts, no matter what their origin: pet shop or shelter: with esp. no contact with new fert's litterbox or anything. This was on the recommendation of our vet, who just about read me the riot act the first time I told him we'd brought our new (at that time, second-ever) fuzzie home and had already exposed the first one to direct contact. I have always wondered how the shelters deal with this! ADRIENNE Re: Little Nikita's adrenal situation. Each case is different. Our oldest boy, William (who we love so much we can hardly stand it) at about 7 1/2 years (and having been through surgery twice) is now back to the symptoms of his adrenal tumor. His once lovely fur-suit is now 'shot,' but his dear little face is still fuzzie, and he still looks at us with the same quizzical/sage dark shiny eyes as always. We love him profoundly and tell him every day (several times), just what a pretty boy he is, too, even though he now looks more like a naked mole-rat. Our fert-vet of nine years, and who considers little 'Wills' as his own namesake, has evaluated the fur-boy and we have thought about it long and hard... and decided NOT to intervene again with surgery. Wills is now on a maintenance dose of Prednisone, which has greatly improved his energy level and so he is having a wonderful little ferret time, being fed lovely, fat chicken baby food twice a day in addition to his vities and treats and Petromalt (sshhh, don't tell 'em it's good for 'em!) and all his good, regular favorite foods. He is our most beloved boy, the last of our first three, and we WILL be sad *beyond measure* (as we were to say goodbye to Gwen and to Woolie) when it is time for him to not be a fert any more, but instead be curiosing the tunnel to the Rainbow Bridge. But we have made the decision, and he is a not-good candidate for surgery which would probably not prolong his life any more one way or the other. This was NOT an economic decision. Despite VERY tight $$, we have been known to spend (on one occasion of emergency hospitalization, followed by three days of intensive care) in excess of $1,200 on a fertie (Woolie), (---oh, God, just put it on the 'plastic,' and we'll deal with that LATER!'--) which saved her life and added nearly a year for her. And would do it again in a SECOND for her or for Wills, too, if we thought it'd be, on balance, the best for the boy... Meantime, William is happy, comfy, pain-free (this is MOST important!), playful, and wondering what all the 'fuss' is about and all the doting kisses and extra play-fun, and why his mommy sometimes just sits quietly and simply watches him... (lookin' at him lookin' at me...) taking in all the cuteness, trying to save some up for 'later,' when it's all gone and all we have are the memories. In short, Adrienne: make YOUR best decision and then simply love your little fertie. Apologies again to BIG. [Posted in FML issue 1679]