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There we were. Four men in 3 trucks going from Las Vegas, Nevada to Elko, Nevada. Five hundred miles. We didn't leave until eight at night. Trucks full of beds, tables and chairs, I was given a few passengers at the last minute.
Ferrets. Yes. Ferrets. My friend loaded the cage of three ferrets into my truck and told me to behave myself while driving. I had about a ton of stuff in the bed of the truck and couldn't think of driving like an idiot. Now ferrets too.

Ferrets are interesting creatures. They have huge explosions of energy or sleep. One or the other. Out of the three, only one wanted to stay up and keep me company. He was an albino with red eyes and insane. Every time I changed tracks on my cd player or used the truck's cigarette lighter, he would have a complete melt down and try to attack my hand. First time was unnerving, but I figured the cage was strong enough. Then it became a game.
I would wave my hand around and this little white creature was start jumping up and down and spasming so bad that the cage would shake, waking the other two. These two, the females, would only look around for a moment then curl up and sleep again. The white one didn't want that.
When we would pull over to stretch our legs and fill our tanks with over-priced gasoline, my friend would check on his ferrets. Of course the white one was well-behaved and loving when he was around. After he would leave the psychotic side would turn on and go crazy in the cage.
He loved to take his little white head and bury it in the kitty-litter. At first I was shocked and disgusted. But the second through tenth times I had adjusted and would laugh at him. With dirt caked on his face and red eyes he would glare at me when I laughed, as if he was insulted. He was the one that shoved his face in kitty-litter!
At the last stop before Elko, I grabbed his water bottle and sprayed his face down to help clean it off. That was a bad idea. If he was a giant cat, a lion or tiger, hundreds of people would have died from the rage. Luckily this ferret was only two pounds, completely insane, but small.
I giggled at this onslaught or running around and biting the cage. Then he stopped in mid chew, and just looked at me. I swear I heard a small voice somewhere say "I wouldn't do that again human..." I raised an eyebrow and continued to chuckle and the white skinny thing went around the cage.
That was one of my memorable road trips. My shotgun three ferrets, one of which hated everything and would have fits of rage. To this day, five years later I still chuckle at that trip.

Learn more about this author, Erik Pepper.
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