As some of you know, I make ferret art as one of my hobbies. Each piece is unique and leaves one with a different feeling.

I have 16 porcelain figures-each a little different-a a little girl about to take her baby doll for a ride in her carriage with a stuffed ferret at her feet. I have taken an original porcelain piece and taken hours with each work, carefully resculpting it and repainting it in pastels. It is 3 dimensional, and about 3 inches by 3 inches. Maybe I am prejudiced, but I just love them. They have taken me several months to complete.

For $50 sent to SOS as a donation for the Utah ferrets, I will send you one of the porcelain sculptures. A gift for a gift.

Send $50 to Judith White at 1236 Belfield Ave., Drexel Hill PA 19026-4211 Check should be written to Support Our Shelters.

This is tax deductible, yes?

Write to Judith to let her know this is for the Utah ferrets and for my offer by e-mail first, in case more than one person would like a small gift of ferret art.

Lisette

I had an hour to get to the chiropractor, and the shop was only a minute out of my way. I fought with myself not to turn. Keep straight on Lisette. Arrive early, and read some magazines. Don't go there. Keep on this road, stupid.

What use is it to make oneself sick over a situation that nothing can be done about? The place is not dirty enough. The conditions are not drastic enough. It is a place of sadness I cannot change.

It has been eight months since I have been here. I head for the small back room where the ferrets are kept. Eight months ago a group of four ferrets huddled in a metal cage with no food or water, toys, or blankets, boxes or hammocks. Just feces covered wire and empty bowls.

There are two small boys now-maybe 8 weeks old. And there is one of the original ferrets- a prisoner for at least eight months of its short life. She looked just like Baby. Now her silver coloring is grungy dull gray. She smells like feces.

I ask the lady for food and water for the ferrets. She will do it tomorrow morning, she says. I explain why it should be done before then. I offer to do it. I offer to buy the food to put in the cage. It is like talking to a door.

The dogs are from puppy mills. So are the kittens. I hate this place. The ferret who is probably a year old now is dirty with long dirty nails, and she has fleas. I tell the lady this. She just looks through me.

I want this place closed. I want happy lives for all these animals. I want the dogs that bred these puppies found and released from their prisons-if they are even still alive. I feel so helpless in these horrible places.

I am busy at work. I have two ferrets in the last stages of their lives. I have a female cat that was physically abused that I saved last year who has suddenly decided I am her friend, and needs me to play with her now. I have seminars coming up. I am so stressed out that I have to see the chiropractor today. I cannot turn my head without great pain. It is a mixture of internalizing stress and working too many hours, poor posture, no time to work out. I need to get out of this place. There is nothing I can do.

I buy the dirty smelly flea ridden female ferret that has been in this pet shop for at least 8 months.

Fleas and ear mites taken care of for now and first distemper shot given, I have her in a two story mid sized cage. She has no litter box habits. She had no litter box. She will probably pee all over her blankets. She will probably pee all over everything for the next 6 or so years.

It will take the usual months to isolate then integrate with my current zoo. I just finished leaving food out for the out door birds and carnivores. Time for the last feeding and meds, nail trimming and ear cleaning of the zoo..

I could have just kept driving straight. I could have arrived to the office early and read magazines that I never have time to even skim read.

I think that this save may be the toughest decision I have made in a long time. Please pray for me for better health so that I can take care of everyone properly. I will do right by this little girl.

Imagine being imprisoned for about 10 years of your life with no recreation, toys, books, t.v., bedding. or mental stimulation. No one loves you. No one but strangers visit. You get food and water in the morning. It has to last until the next morning. You walk on bars. Your feet are not adapted to floor or carpet. You have brothers and sisters. But they are taken from prison, and never return. Little nippy teething babies are put in prison with you to irritate you. You are miserable with fleas and mites.

The little girl I took in 2 weeks ago had this happen to her. ARound one year of her life is the equivalent of ten of ours. She has figured out how to walk, run, and leap these last few days. But she does not know a humans love. She does a quick slash/bite on my toes, feet, ankles, and hands.

She is aggressive, and attacks everything-toy, human, or animal.The cats are terrified of her. She chatters adorably ==kind of like a rattle snake rattles: it is my warning that Fang is near.

She is so tiny that she can get out of her cage. I learned this when I got a nasty bite on my foot while making dinner last night. No chatter-just a sharp bite while I was carrying a boiling liquid from the stove. What a shocker! I did not know if I should hide a foot, or hop, or drag my feet away. I could not see her beneath the pot I was carrying. Little Terror. She has a new cage now.

I took her in for her second distemper shot and Ivermectin shot today. I kissed her tiny face for being so brave. I look like I have collagen injections in my lips from the swelling of the little girls bites. Kinda sexy.

This little one had nothing. Now she wants everything. She is full of surprises. She somehow jammed my entire satin bathrobe into and behind a drawer along with over a dozen stuffed animals I have not seen in ages. Don't go near her den there unless you want to face a hissing ferret that makes noises like the Tasmanian Devil.

My leather work shoes are missing. Another dozen toys are by the kitchen sink. And this little thing also has made a nest under the bathroom sink. Don't go after her there!!!!!!!!!!!! "-)

I tried to give her another bath as the first was more of a fight with terrible screaming noises. I could not bear to hear the same noises coming out of her again. So she is still not as clean as I would like. Boy--can she screeeeeetch!!!!!!!!!!!

I have not named her yet. I was thinking of Angel--but hey-get real. Viper kinda fits her right now. What a hissy, quick striking slinky miss.

She is in her new cage right now. I thought she was going to tear her teeth off trying to get out: poor thing. But she has been out for hours.

So there is my update on the one pound monster. It is not going smoothly, and could take years to get her trust. One pound, four ounces, and I am afraid of her when she is by my feet. They are really sore from all the bites.At least I don't goosh blood like I did with Cheyene.

On a brighter note--maybe the raccoons I thought died during the heavy snows have survived!!!!!!!!!!!!! I Just this second turned to see one peeking in. I have food right off the den tonight.