Just When You Thought It Was Safe to Go Back Into the Water

All these shark attacks in Florida got nothing on my back bedroom. I've learned that there are certain parts of the day when I just should just avoid setting foot past the plexiglas ferret barrier. I know these times are imminent by the constant thumping and crashing going on, usually in the late morning. I checked up on them only to catch Squiggy in mid-leap; my sudden appearance around the corner seemed to freeze them both. Lenny, the skittery one, struggled with his fight-or-flight reflex and decided to fight, for once. When Squiggy rolled over for a belly rub, Lenny crashed into my arm, teeth and front claws bared. Of course, that riled up Squiggy, who took it out on his buddy. I guess my draping the old T-shirt over them and swirling it around wasn't helpful toward calming them down. The way I see it, it's aerobic exercise for them...usually, they're not so wild. Sure, they might try to climb my leg, but usually the only leaping and biting occur as I lift my second leg over the barrier upon leaving the room.

This last week, they took over the bedroom closet, which until now, was blocked by two ferret cages. They've learned to muscle the cages out of the way, access the sliding door, and frolick about in all the fun stuff stored therein. Boxes of reloading equipment, several Plano tackle boxes filled with lead D&D figurines (and foam rubber cushioning...with lots of teeth marks!!!)...and new places to poop! The first day I discovered this, I policed up the potentially dangerous foam rubber, buttoned down the tackle boxes, and actually wedged one of the cages into the closet to discourage pooping there. Though I prevented life-threatening foam-rubber ingestion, when I returned home Sunday, there were several reloading accessories strewn about the room. Oh, well, they're getting more use out of them than I do.