Cowboy Blob's Saloon and Shootin Gallery

I'm not a real Cowboy, but I play one in the movies.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Let Me Out Two!

I had a bad feeling driving back to Tucson. What if Lenny somehow managed to get over the plexiglas again, only without me being at home? Sure, there's lots of fun stuff to play with, but also lots of things to kill a curious ferret. Plus, no source of food or water...and there'd be no way of recrossing the plexiglas (if it wasn't knocked out of battery) even if a ferret could think of trying it.

As is my routine when I return home, I quickly count furry noses before I leave the door open to unload the truck. This time, there was only one shiny pink nose to be counted and it belonged to Squiggy. I was starting to feel a little psychic and a lot worried. The plexiglas was in place and there was nothing nearby from which to leap to the top. I checked the PVC tubes to ensure he wasn't dozing in one of them. I stepped outside the room and checked the hall closet, their former hangout. Voila, fresh ferret poop! I alerted the guard towers and actuated the sirens and searchlights. The Weasel was over the wall.

My first reconnaissance was quick; nose to all corners of the house, no smell of electrocuted ferret. No drowned ferret in the toilet bowls. Nobody in the bathtubs (neither of my jills ever had that skill), I knew at least Lenny could do it. I returned to question Lenny's cellmate, but all he did was lick my feet. He knew what side of the bread was Ferretvited. After drifting into the living room again, I spied the escapee coming out from behind the TV. He made a quick dash behind the bookcase but was soon coaxed out by my offer of leniency. After repatriating him to the ferret reserve, Squiggy almost immediately sat on him and started vigorously licking Lenny's ears. Hey, Guy, I only said *I* wouldn't punish you!

As much as they might protest, I think they both stay in the Cellblock on my next weekend trip, instead of having the run of the Yard. Think I'm being too mean, guys? Meet someone who gets let out of the cage once or twice a day...and he LIKES it.

Attiiiiiicaaaaa! Attiiiicaaaa!


  • At 10:52 PM, Blogger Firehand said…

    Little bastards can get out of or into damn near anything. My ex and kid's critters keep somehow getting onto a desk and screwing with their computers.


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