I Think She’s A WereFerret

by Cookie



It’s not that my kid hasn’t been sick before, she just hasn’t been sick before, you know?  Oh yeah she’s had some colds, but the kind where she smiled and played through the congestion and the tap dripping out of her nose.

This weekend, I had a a puking, fevered, cling-to-mommy-for-dear-life sick child.  It’s one part sad, one part pathetic, one part sweet.  There’s this tiny little part of you that feels smug about being the only thing that comforts her.  Then this part of you whose arm is asleep, and back hurts from carrying her.  And the other part that is freaking out because she’s never had a fever before and the Tylenol  came right back up and what do you do?  Give her some more?

And of course, if you are part of our family, we have this rule about never getting sick or injured until a Saturday evening when the only thing that is open is the fucking emergency room.  Just ask the dogs.  Bee stings, allergic reactions, ate some poisonous mushrooms.  Always on a Saturday night or long weekend when we are 2 hours out of the city.  I did find something out though.  Dogs can get stoned.  And you can make them puke by giving them a spoonful of salt.  But that’s a whole other post.

Anyway, I was sort of thinking about our ferrets.  We used to have a few, back when we lived in the apartment.  We brought them to the house when we moved in.  They had run of the house when we were home, and when we weren’t, they lived in The Destroyer’s room.  Ferrets are feisty little fuckers.  A wild weasel will attack and take down a prey three times its size.  They are hard to catch, and they do most things on their own terms.  They were at the top of the animal hierarchy in this house and all three dogs knew it.  They all have the scars on their snouts to remind them.

The Destroyer is a lot like our ferrets, actually.  I mean, she’s bigger and has less fur, but there are some eerily similar traits that make me wonder if she has the spirit of one of them in her from being in that room.

She is devastatingly beautiful.  I mean really, really adorable.  I know I’m supposed to feel that way, but seriously.  And you know what else?  She is trouble, trouble, trouble.  That’s why she’s cute. It’s some sort of law of nature.  The ferrets could also give you a look that could break your heart.  They are surprisingly affectionate and sociable with their people.  The Destroyer too, knows how to lay it on thick.

She has oddly sharp little incisors.  NO, really.  They look like fangs.  And she wanted gnaw on a steak bone since about birth.  And she’s had most of her teeth since birth.  Did I mention she bites?

She likes to steal things and find a new location for them.  Somewhere out of the way.  And not anything useful like a wallet.  Shit like bottle caps and styrofoam.  Under the bed, in my shoe.  Sometimes she steals the whole shoe.

And the thing that sealed the deal for me, totally reminded me of the ferrets was when she got sick this weekend.   One day, years ago, our male ferret, Boomer had an allergic reaction to something.  On a Saturday night, of course.  So we took him to the Emergency Vet.  Yeah, the one that charges you 200$ just to look at the animal.

“I have to take his temperature”  said the vet.

Oh yeah?  Well good luck with that.  Has she ever handled a ferret before?  Even a sick ferret?  I was gonna ask for my money back.

“Well, if you manage to get that thermometer up his ass and hold it there long enough for a reading, I’ll fucking pay you double.  Because there is no way he is letting that happen.  But go ahead and try. I could use some comic relief.”

And try she did.  And bleed she did, through several wounds before giving up.  I wasn’t gonna help her for 200$.  Fuck that.  Give me a discount and I might think about it. Trying to make a ferret do something they don’t want to is not worth the blood loss.

Anyway, apparently trying to get the Destroyer to have her temperature taking was in line with her ferret like tendencies.  Then the nurse on the phone suggested Tylenol suppositories.  You mean, like up her ass? 

Cause that was gonna happen pretty much never.  I couldn’t even get a thermometer under her armpit without a freak out and puke fest.  Fuck that.

And that’s what convinced me that she is possessed by the spirit of Boomer.  Cause even in her fragile state, you can’t fuck with her.

That’s my girl.