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Crossword puzzles and Sudoku are two effective ways to keep your mind sharp, but have you ever tried owning ferrets? These fun loving critters next move is harder to predict than the "Guess Your Weight" booth at the fair. Want to stay mentally alert? Get a ferret.

Ferrets can and do wiggle those wiry little bodies into just about everywhere. I have had "furts" work their way into the box spring of my mattress, dragging in some much needed supplies like dirty socks and super chews. Ferrets have clambered into the most narrow of holes. I have heard of ferret horror stories where those little darlings have managed to crawl through dryer vents and escape outside, or even getting trapped inside walls. Lucky for me, they were happy enough with my hand me down sofa.

Smalls, the tiniest of my two girls, was the ringleader and made sure everyone else learned about the most fabulous hidey-hole, unreachable by human hands, with an entry point between the arm, seat, and back of the sofa. After cutting out the bottom, I discovered that my little gremlins had dragged in packages of Crayola modeling clay as well as a brand new pair of flip-flops, still attached together.

Diggers at heart, house plants don't stand a chance when spotted by mischievous fuzzy eyes. Patrick, my dark sable, was the Digger King. Well, his dream for the ultimate digging adventure came true when he worked open the door to my bedroom, a Ferret Free Zone, and attacked my giant palm tree. Not only did he manage to dig a hole large enough to kill the palm, but he got dirt absolutely everywhere - the walls, the carpet, and even up his nose. After a quick bath, Patrick, my most fervent bath hater would have remarked that, "Yes, it was most definitely worth it."

As strange as it sounds, ferrets can get attached to the most peculiar of items, and my gremlins were no different. Murray, my light sable who considered less than 18 hours of sleep a travesty, had a thing for the eyes on stuffed animals. For some reason, they really seemed to tick him off, so he did the only thing a red-blooded ferret could do, he tried to gnaw them off every chance he got. Jiggles, a rather plump little guy, liked to confiscate 2 liter bottles of soda. Somehow he could just get his mouth around the top and then would run as fast as he could to a special spot located right underneath my bed. Daisy became attached to a Victoria's Secret pink polka dot dog, about the same size as she was. Every day, without fail, it would be dragged over to the food bowls in the kitchen. No other ferret was allowed to touch the dog or they would be subjected to her wrath, and become the victim of hissing and wrestling.


I miss the ferrety sounds - the grumblings during a heated wrestling match and the "dook dook dook" of excitement. I miss finding new treasure troves. The rediscovering of lost items and laughing over the more bizarre choices of fuzzy "must haves." I lost the last of my babies in Summer of 2005 yet sometimes, I swear I can still see them scurrying under chairs and footstools, searching for the ever elusive perfect steal.
Dedicated with much love and fond remembrance to my babies:
Daisy, my banana chip lover
Patrick, the "pretty boy" fuzzy
Max, the water baby
Jiggles, the lover of soda bottles and tummy tickles
Timmy, the white devil and wallet thief
"Old Man" Murray, the lover of sleep
and
Smalls, the Master Thief

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