My eight fuzzies, without exception, adore Captain Crunch. We call it "Ferret Cookies." I know they shouldn't eat it often, but if it's good enough for my 12 y/o human daughter to eat for breakfast (and sometimes me to eat for dinner), then I figure it won't kill them. (Well, maybe trying to get the cereal box off the top of the baker's rack might, but so far, so good...) Baby Mista update here -- Chuck and Luke are loving him and only had to be Ferratoned for 3 days before they completely forgot they ever hated him. Oh, and the new baby is a LAP ferret. I've had the joy of 10 fuzzies in 8 years, but so far, none of them were true lap ferrets (sitting there for Ferretone does NOT count) until they got a little advanced in years, say 6-7 y/o. But last night, Mista climbed into the papasan chair with me, rolled over on his back, and went to sleep. A word on biters, I've never had much trouble with biters, except for Dreyfuss the Vampire Slayer, which is a story for another email. "NO" said in a deep, stern voice usually results in instant contrition and complete understanding. I also have real success simply holding the offender's teeth gently between thumb and forefinger. Ferretz Rule, Lynne & Pookie, Dreyfuss, Misha, Maxx, Cody, Chuck, Luke and Mr. Mistofflelees ("All we want for Christmas is the boxes your stuff came in...) [Posted in FML issue 2158]