Sunday, September 13, 2009

Adventure in the life and times of...

Alright, so I managed to get The Triad's room clean, scrubbed and perfected, as well as hauling their cage out and hosing the living crap (um, eww?) out of it >yay!<. Then, it was snack time (tilapia and olive oil FTW), and then my mom and I cornered them and proceeded to torture them mercilessly (a.k.a. trimming their nails).

A few things happened during this whole she-bang, though. One, my mom and I talked about Pixie--how, yeah, the melatonin is looking required rather than just wanted, and I told her about my concerns (but I looked the poor girl over--and even dragged Sian over for comparisons--and she's still fine. The sketchy hair on the back feet scared us, but all of them have it. Not bald there, just thin-haired, I guess).

But anyway, we were talking about all that, and this is my excuse--THAT CONVERSATION NEVER LEAVES ANYONE IN A VERY GOOD PLACE, okay? So remember that, right? I was worried and vulnerable (*g*). My dad had come down to check out ferrets (and you should have seen his face when he walked in on Sian, scruffed, in the air. Like 'oh my god, I'll save you...whatever your name is'). So, Yogi see him; the boy loves playing guard dog and he runs up to the plexiglass all 'what are you doing RAWR' and Dad scoops him up.

Yogi is inadvertently Dad's favorite--only because he's the only one of The Triad that will willingly go up to him. So, once I told him who he had, Dad's face was all glee. I turn back to mom and Sian, get her finished up, and then look over my shoulder to see--

--my dad holding Yogi up to Ben's mouth. Ben's unsure, probably thinking 'wth, this never happens', but all I can see was a tiny ferret right next to my dog's very long, very wicked canines. Now, Ben might have been fine with it, but he also is highly unpredictable (I really don't need to rehash Ben's story, now do I?). So I lose it (shame on me, I know). I start yelling (my dad wears hearing-aids) and I'm trying to get over and snatch Yogi away as fast as I can (all the while seeing blood and guts and hearing a few ferret screams and Ben-snarls, because my imaginiation? rocks).

Dad finally sees the hysterical whirl-wind his daughter's become rampaging towards him and he tosses Yogi at me. Then I'm left with my dad apologizing and trying to escape the nightmare; my mom is staring wide-eyed at me (with that look of 'awww' sympathy moms do so well); and I'm clutching Yogi to me and trying not to complete the heart attack that I was in the process of having. Yogi? He looked like he was trying to decide if he should be retroactively freaked out or not.

That's bad enough. Until I started bawling my eyes out. Oh, yeah. Maybe that was a stronger reaction than the situation warranted. But, chalk it up to Embarrassing Ferrent Story #72089.


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