When I first got into saving ferts from this one pet store where the owner had a serious drug problem, no love of ferts,and had a very busy pet store that kept his few helpers running around and unable to care for the animals properly, I tried not to keep any of the sick ferts I brought home. They all went back healthy, chubby; no longer the starving weak runt. Each one after being with my clowns for a few weeks went back to the trough they were kept in as the alpha ferret. Each quickly had the other ferts cowering. And each one was sold before a week had passed. ...All except for one. There, in a pig trough filled with cedar shavings, too many ferts, mounds of poop and cedar filled food and water bowls lay a tiny silver mitt. Each time I purchased food so I could place some in the bowl, the stronger ferts rushed the bowl, and crowded out the weak babies. The tiny fert just lay there. The manager was a kind man who had come to trust me, and so I carried this poor thing home for the Thanksgiving Holiday and following few weeks.He was so petite that his entire body fit my hand. I walked with my sister for an hour with fert in hand. As we headed in I started cooing to the wee one. My sister actually thought that I was talking to my hand. [!!] This tiny fert lived, and my nephew gave it a name of a strong fierce animal to give it strength. We named him Tiger. When it was time to return him, I placed him in the trough.But unlike the others I saved- he was picked on, and sat shivering in the corner. He wasnt allowed to eat. Hours later he was still shivering and huddled in a ball: " TIGER"..the shy guy. I purchased him and home he came. He is submissive to all, and still shivers. But he has a home and lots of love. I never kept a fert I saved at that pet shop- all except for one: " TIGER"..MY shy guy. Lisette [Posted in FML issue 2625]