24 posts tagged “ferrets”
It has been a really good weekend. Nothing in particular, really, so much as just appreciating and really being in the moment for lots of little things. That's what life should be, of course, but I feel it so much more right now because for so long, I really couldn't. I couldn't break away from my stress and worry about work enough to be the moments life is made of, and I was missing them.
Friday, Lee and I trimmed The Vinster's claws and gave him a bath. Not something His Weazness enjoys, but a necessary evil for him and tons of fun for us. Well, maybe not the nail clipping part. But there's nothing funnier than a freshly washed ferret rolling furiously around on your bed to dry himself off. And perhaps to punish you just a bit for plunking him in the tub by getting your sheets all damp.
Isn't he so cute all clean and fluffy?
After Vin's washing-up, Lee headed to bed. He's working this weekend at the PT job, and gets up at 4 a.m.! The good news for him is that he's done and home shortly after 9. I headed up to The Pub with the family. Friday marked the 3rd year anniversary of the death of a very dear friend of ours. His wife and several of our friends who were also close to him were there, and we toasted him and shared stories and remembered and did a lot of laughing and a little crying. It hurt and felt wonderful all at once.
We did the kind of shots HE used to do, which are much stronger than what we'd usually choose on our own. Mom laughed and said he was looking down on us and getting a huge kick out of watching all of us get simple for him.
This morning, I slept in until Lee got off work. Then I went out in the yard with my coffee and found my first jalopenos were ready for plucking from the garden. Just two so far, but one of them is a BIG pepper!
We went shopping later in the day, for our yard and for Father's Day gifts. We found the coolest quirky little store, a garden shop that also just sold all sorts of homey things from fireplace accessories to hot sauces and apple butter. The "greeter" at the store was a beautiful cockatiel, who shouted "HELLO!" at us from his cage the entire time we were browsing. I love places like that.
Later, we went with Lee's daughter and her boyfriend to a birthday dinner for one of her friends, and got to meet some of her crew. At some point during the meal I missed a called from my friend in Florida. She was calling to ask me if I would be one of their references as she and her husband go through their adoption process. Nothing would make me happier. They will be such wonderful parents, and she'd all but given up on that ever happening.
Life is good in so many ways. Freshly washed weasels, meals with family and friends, toasts and laughter and tears in memory of one who left too soon, bright green peppers plucked from the garden, talking birds in off-the-beaten-path shops, and a miracle for a friend who has waited so long for it she thought it was only a dream.
In such big and small ways, the world is a wonderful place.
Vin Weasel.
Over my many years of blogging, I thought I learned a few lessons.
Watch what you say and show online. Don't write anything you wouldn't want your boss or your mother or your neighbor or anyone else in your life to see or know. It can and will bite you in the butt.
So when I started this blog, I said that one thing I would never do is use it to air my dirty laundry on the internet.
I lied.
I give you Vin Weasel, Laundry Lounger.
We can all learn something from this. Namely, that what to one of us is nothing more than a pile of dirty clothes and chores is another's happy place:
I plan to spend a lot of my weekend doing exactly what Vin was doing here - lounging about and relaxing. Only not in the clothes hamper.
There's a fun trip to a historical re-enactment and another steamed crabs extravaganza (this one in honor of the long weekend and my sister and aunt's birthdays) in the near future too. Good times for all.
I think I'll use Vin's clear attachment to these dirty clothes as an excuse to not waste the weekend on laundry.
Hope you all enjoy yours too!
The People have been on a bit of a productivity binge lately.
Sylvester and I really don't agree on much. Like lately, he's been getting all sorts of snuggles and sympathy around here, just because he got neutered. I mean, what a wuss! They'd taken me to one of those vet-places and made me wake up without my balls long before I even came to live here. Be a man, Sly, for real.
But one thing we do agree on is that these clean-organize-and-do-stuff sprees The People go on now and then are downright annoying. They leave much less time for fun things like hanging out with us furballs. Luckily, our People are kinda lazy, so this doesn't happen all the time. But when it does ... watch out!
First, they take Sly and get his balls done. Then they throw me in a tub and wash me and make me first all slippery wet and then all fluffy. They actually had the nerve to say I was becomiing a stinky weasel ... as if!
After cleaning me, they cleaned the house.
Well, they can just have at it. I'm sure not doing anything with those cleaning supplies - that ferret shampoo was bad enough!
And paying bills ... The People are ALWAYS paying bills, whatever that means.
I dunno why they don't just do what I do and ignore those stupid envelopes that come in the mail. Or better yet, put'em in a corner and I'll poop on them. That'll show'em!
So they cleaned and paid bills and worked in the yard and worked in the shed and de-balled Sly and washed me. Seriously, they need to chill. They say we ferrets are the hyper ones! I've been doing my part to show them what weekends really SHOULD be about, though. I even gave them examples.
Take it easy. Cook some of those yummy things you don't have time to make during the workweek:
Chill out and read the newspaper:
No, not just the yucky bad-news headlines, either. I mean REALLY read the newspaper:
And most importantly, just hang out and watch the world go by:
Hopefully, they'll get the message and relax. Otherwise, they'll run out of chores and decide its time for me or Sly to get washed or go to the vet again.
If THAT happens, I just hopes its the feline four-legger who gets it.
I give you all Vin Vicious:
Actually, that's just a mid-weasel-war-dance moment of perfect timing. Anyone who has ferrets knows how hard it is to get candid photos of their speedy little selves.
After I took this shot, Lee played around with it a little in photo editing so the sign could be seen better:
A friend sent me this: Click on the link and scroll down to the article on black-footed ferrets. The webcam lets you watch a momma ferret who just gave birth on Friday. So far, I haven't seen her do much more than sleep (it is cute to watch her flip over and adjust herself into a weasel ball though) and I haven't caught sight of the babies yet, but I'm determined to see them!
Between Vinnie and Sylvie (Lee decided her name should be spelled with a "W," and I'm OK with that), our house is full of intrepid explorers. Nothing is sacred. My underwear could end up anyplace.
When you are faced with all that furball energy and curiousity, the only thing to do is to try to use it to your advantage. The ferret owners of the old days used to use them to catch mice and rats. They'd carry them around in their pants legs and peddle their services at nearby farms. They were the first exterminators.
Me, I'm far too squeamish to market Vin's services as a mouser. But a weasel has to earn his keep. So I decided to put his "ferreting" skills to the test and send him on Mission Impossible: Figure out where all the damn socks go and why they never make it out of the laundry in pairs.
He gave it his best shot, really:
Anybody in there?
But eventually, we had to concede that even Vin Weasel, Ace Detective, was no match for the ever-elusive Sock Thief.
Better luck next time, Vin.
Editor's Note: The above is pure fiction. Sure, Vin explored the dryer. But he didn't give a weasel's butt about my missing socks. In fact, if he'd found them, he probably would have just hidden them better, because that's what weasels do. His real job is simply to be cute.
Happy Weekending!
Although I didn't have a ferret of my own until my mid-20's, I caught ferret fever when I was just a kid. I would spend a few weeks each summer with my great-grandmother in West Virginia, and her neighbors had two of them.
The first time I saw a ferret, the neighbor lady was walking him up my grandma's driveway on a harness leash. The ferret trotted along almost like a puppy, stopping to weasel war dance now and then on the way. I fell in love. So when I was all grown up and had weasels of my very own, of course I wanted to try the leash thing. I think that over the years I attempted to walk three or four different weasels. The result always went something like this:
- weasel looks at me like I'm insane.
- weasel won't move other than to try to wiggle out of the harness
- weasel eventually gets sick of wiggling, rolls over and flops with his belly in the air, playing dead until I give up and remove the offending harness.
So I gave up, thinking there was something wrong with my weasel skills. After all, every now and then I'd see a couple walking their ferret across the campus where I work. THAT weasel bounced along quite happily, so it must be me.
Then my most recent next-door neighbors moved in, the ones who currently have six ferrets. They've been weasel people for decades, and admitted without shame that they've never been successful in taking a ferret for a stroll. Like mine, their ferrets prefer playing dead. And taking a weasel for a drag just isn't the point of the exercise.
So I still couldn't walk a weasel, but I felt a little better.
Flash forward to now. After the loss of Ginny and Cleo, Lee and I decided that we aren't getting any more ferrets for a while. It's the right decision, but it leaves the Vinster without in-house weasely companionship. He can visit with the neighbor's ferrets, but we still feel like we have to do more than ever to keep him entertained and content. So we bought a leash and decided to try the whole weasel-walking thing again.
Our first attempt was Wednesday night. I got the harness on Vin with minimal struggle and took him out into the yard. Lee was already there talking to the neighbors, who cracked up at mine and The Vinster's arrival. When I put him down, they leaned over the fence and began to count.
"One ... Two ... Three ... over onto his back he goes!"
But he didn't. He bounced and clucked and weazed all over the front yard.
I can't say I was "walking" him, exactly. It was more like I was following him as he bounded about. If I had tried to get him to go in any particular direction, I think we may have gone into "flop" mode. But he moved. And he got to explore the yard, something he'd never get to do without a leash. Unlike other pets, ferrets aren't smart enough to come home. And they're too fast to guarantee that you'll be able to catch them if they roam free.
I haven't seen the Vinster so animated and happy in a while. So we'll stick with this, even if we never get to the point of actually "walking him." It makes him happy.
And I finally have a ferret who doesn't play dead on a leash.
For my first "Me and My Monday" post, here's
"Me and My Weasels."
This was one of the pictures that came of me and Lee trying to pose Vinnie and Cleo together to show the difference in their sizes. But weasels, while the cutest things ever, are really hard to photograph. They squirm and wiggle and weaz, because that's what they do. So this one ended up having Cleo curled under Vinnie and me looking like I was trying to hide my face behind his. I kinda like the effect.
Anyway ... happy Monday. (I always have a hard time not choking on those words. I wonder if I'll ever grow up enough not to have issues with the whole work thing?)
We knew it was only a matter of time, right?
Lee and I decided this weekend that it was time for The Vinster to have a new friend and playmate. Ferrets are social critters, and even though he's got a ton of weaselfriends next door that's just not the same as having someone to curl up with at night.
So, now, Vin's got a little sister. Meet Cleo:
She's a tiny baby weasel. You can see how small she is in this next picture, with The Vinster:
Obviously, Vin wasn't into getting his picture taken at that moment. He's excited about his new roomie one minute, and a little confused the next. Overall it has been a really smooth transition. I've had cases where a dominant ferret wanted nothing to do with a newcomer, or wanted to kick his or her butt for a while before things settled down and they became buddies. I've had to keep ferrets separate for a while during their integration period. That's won't be the case with Vin and Cleo. Since he's a grown boy and she's just a baby, he's taken on a tolerant big brotherly role. And he's clucking and dooking (those are happy weasel noises, for those who don't know) all over the house.
As for Cleo, she's just the sweetest thing. At the pet store, I told Lee to pick which baby ferret he wanted, since he's never actually gotten one before - Vin and Gin were an already-here package deal who came with me. But I was hoping he'd pick her, and he did. She's very loving and cuddly, but playful too. And she's going to be an ankle biter, for sure. Here's Lee and Cleo together.
And don't worry. We're making sure The Vinster knows he's still the Big Boy Weaz of the house and has lots and lots of love:
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