Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Don't look at me, I'm just as clueless as you...

The Triad got their pumpkin today. Sian had been hacking a little from all the hair they're losing this shedding season, so it was probably a good idea *g*.

The Lovebirds eat their mix on their own. But since Sian has hers plain, she prefers if I hand feed it to her (to be more specific: make little pumpkin balls and put them in the palm of my hand for her to eat). I don't mind, as long as they get the full dose, but it always reminds me of starting out. I had read a lot of peoples' blogs, and they all had these very exact ways of getting each ferret to eat their food. At the time, I thought it was sweet (and time consuming), but overall I was glad my guys weren't so delicate.

Now, though, I've found myself in the same boat. Generally, when I'm trying to get them to eat a new food, I have to hold it for them (complete with the 'mmm, that's good'--which is completely unnecessary for the ferrets, but a compulsion for me, I've found), put some (if it's boneless) on the tip of my finger and hold it up to their nose and mouth so they get the smell of it, drizzle it with a bit of olive oil, or--the quickest method--scruff them until they yawn, then pop the piece in their mouth. One of these methods usually work (the exception was their chicken necks, when I actually left it up to them to figure it out). But sometimes I'm reduced to offering it, picking it up, offering it again, over and over until they finally accept it. This, too, is with raw-fed ferrets, who are easier to introduce new foods to (in comparison to kibble-fed ferrets, anyway. Or so people tell me).

Still, sometimes, if they're nervous or something, I'm caught having to hand feed them the entire meal, piece by piece (have I mentioned the time where I had to blend up raw chicken breast, baby food and a dab of olive oil and syringe feed the bubble-gum pink concoction to them?).

I really don't know how I didn't realize this before, or why it suddenly hit me, today, while Sian was throwing a fuss because her pumpkin-ball wasn't a perfect sphere (I used to fill a syringe with the pumpkin, then squirt it into the palm of my hand as she watched. We recently graduated from that, and I can fore go the syringe. Thank god).

But, when she was sitting in my lap and angrily jabbing at the orange mess with her nose, it suddenly hit me. Then hit again, when I caught myself refashioning it so that the food would appease Sian's need for perfection:

They have me trained perfectly *headdesk*

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