He was a wonderful little guy that was the "good child" most of the time. One example of that is when we lived in Texarkana, we had a playpen for the Chewie and Bug to play in - kind of a safe area because they would get into everything. I came home from work one day, exhausted but decided I would put them in the playpen so they could play while I napped a bit. I woke up and looked down the hall to see part of the playpen and Chewie just jumping and bouncing up against the playpen wall and looking at me is if to say, "Mommy! Mommyyyy! Mommmy. He's in trouble... Mommy come look!! Come look NOW Mommy!"
So I get up and walking down the hall, trying to figure out what is wrong with the picture. ( I always suck at such games) Then I realize that there was only 1 ferret in the playpen. One. There were two but now one. This is when the panic hits when I see Chewie still dancing and jumping up on the pen wall. But he is not looking toward me directly anymore, but a point behind me. A small, fuzzy, silver point behind me. I turn around and see Bug just dancing behind me, sees me coming and takes off, dooking (ferret laughter, best description of dook) around the corner.
Here I am running after a ferret who thinks this is The Best Game EVER as I make a bounding leap and grab Bug’s hind end just as he almost crawls under the apartment, under the stove. The Little Sh*t.
But from that point forward, Chewie was known as my Little Tattletale.
The second memory was one week James was out of town for work. I was giving the ferrets a run. (Ferret math had occurred and at that point there were four.) I tried to sneak out and Chewie saw an Opportunity added Ornery and raised it to an Adventure. He bounced as fast as his fat butt would take him between my legs and out the door. I got out without a flood of ferrets after me and started down the hall to catch him. The funniest thing is he would bounce a few times and look back, making sure I was after him and dook wildly. Bounce, dook, bounce, dook, Bounce, dook, look back, wash rinse and repeat until a grabbed him up and tickled his belly mercilessly.
He was also the best a ferret human communication. When he had had enough play, Chomp! – Not meanly or in anger, or even to break skin. Just enough to say, “M’kay mommy, daddy, dat iz nuff. I iz tired.”
Gonna miss that little boy.
Thank you all for your kind thoughts.
