We know how they are, I mean, besides being ridiculously cute, amusing, and endearing. They're so curious about everything that they get themselves in danger, and they do it with frightening ease.
We've all probably had one who we either suspected or knew had ingested something that wasn't going to pass easily. Some of us have jumpers, others have squigglers. We'll swear we were gone from the room "just for a minute" and find that our beloved carpet shark has something in his or her mouth, or that s/he is prostrate, with grey gums.
I know my Tucker has a chewing problem. Maybe I'd even go so far as to call it pica. When he was a kit he'd eat, and eat, and eat, then take a long drink of water before going back to the food bowl. Seriously, the boy was shaped like a light bulb with legs. His belly would be so distended that I was afraid he'd burst. We had a nickname for him; Nommin' Bates. Thank goodness he grew out of that phase. I wish he'd grow out of the one he's in now. The "hey! I like this texture, I think I'll chew on it!" phase. If I'm at the computer he'll sometimes come into the room and start finding places to chew the loveseat that's behind me. If I'm in the kitchen he'll start chewing on one of the rugs. He's stripped 4 small tennis balls and one large one. He chews on hammocks and sleepsacks. He just chews. He rarely bites Bug or Katy when playing, just defends himself, and runs. Hubby trained Tuck to be mellow, and that he is. There have been a few times I've had to treat him with some kind of laxative because I wasn't sure if he'd eaten something potentially dangerous.
Last night was hot outside. The AC was on, but the air was still. I don't like that. I want a little movement to the air while I sleep, especially during summer. It's just better all the way around. Hubby had fallen asleep in the recliner and was snoring. I moved out to the sofa because I usually wake up really congested when I sleep in the bedroom. So I was getting comfortable on the sofa and heard an odd crunching. I couldn't place the noise so I got up to find its source. I expected to find Katy on the kitchen island, rooting around for some forbidden treat. Instead I found her in my sewing room, behind a desk, chewing on a piece of styrofoam packing material. I immediately took it away and put it in the trash. I then took Katy and gave her a hefty dose of FerretVite.
Yes, I know that FerretLax or even petroleum jelly is more indicated in a situation like this, but I didn't want to stress her. I know she'll readily eat the 'Vite, but the 'Lax is a chore. Yeah, she likes the 'Vite.
I've been keeping an eye on her all day. She's been social, inquisitive, and distinctly un-Katy-like, but didn't seem distressed at all. When I changed the poo pads I noticed an odd structure to one mound. I called hubby over and asked "does that look like styrofoam?" He replied that it did. I can only assume that getting a mild laxative-like substance into her as soon as I noticed her eating the wrong stuff was the best possible thing I could have done. Would she have passed more styrofoam if I'd given her 'Lax? Maybe. There's no real way to know how much of the stuff she ate, though.
The simple truth is that ferret-proofing is an endless job. We may think we've got everything out of reach, then they'll surprise us. Hubby had said to me yesterday "You know Bug's up on that top shelf in there." What? I went in, picked him up, and put him on the floor. I then stood near the back of the recliner as he showed me how he'd gotten up there. *sigh* He'd climbed one of the recliners, then JUMPED from the back of the recliner onto a nearby shelf. Once I saw him do it I knew how to rearrange the furniture, but I didn't know he could, or would, get up there. Oh, while he was on that shelf he found a clay pot full of soil. One of my houseplants didn't make it in hibernation over the winter, and the pot was still there. Bug had a GREAT time digging in it. Then he proved to me that even if he couldn't get on the top shelf he could still get on the second shelf. Oy!
Yeah, ferret-proofing is an endless job.
We've all probably had one who we either suspected or knew had ingested something that wasn't going to pass easily. Some of us have jumpers, others have squigglers. We'll swear we were gone from the room "just for a minute" and find that our beloved carpet shark has something in his or her mouth, or that s/he is prostrate, with grey gums.
I know my Tucker has a chewing problem. Maybe I'd even go so far as to call it pica. When he was a kit he'd eat, and eat, and eat, then take a long drink of water before going back to the food bowl. Seriously, the boy was shaped like a light bulb with legs. His belly would be so distended that I was afraid he'd burst. We had a nickname for him; Nommin' Bates. Thank goodness he grew out of that phase. I wish he'd grow out of the one he's in now. The "hey! I like this texture, I think I'll chew on it!" phase. If I'm at the computer he'll sometimes come into the room and start finding places to chew the loveseat that's behind me. If I'm in the kitchen he'll start chewing on one of the rugs. He's stripped 4 small tennis balls and one large one. He chews on hammocks and sleepsacks. He just chews. He rarely bites Bug or Katy when playing, just defends himself, and runs. Hubby trained Tuck to be mellow, and that he is. There have been a few times I've had to treat him with some kind of laxative because I wasn't sure if he'd eaten something potentially dangerous.
Last night was hot outside. The AC was on, but the air was still. I don't like that. I want a little movement to the air while I sleep, especially during summer. It's just better all the way around. Hubby had fallen asleep in the recliner and was snoring. I moved out to the sofa because I usually wake up really congested when I sleep in the bedroom. So I was getting comfortable on the sofa and heard an odd crunching. I couldn't place the noise so I got up to find its source. I expected to find Katy on the kitchen island, rooting around for some forbidden treat. Instead I found her in my sewing room, behind a desk, chewing on a piece of styrofoam packing material. I immediately took it away and put it in the trash. I then took Katy and gave her a hefty dose of FerretVite.
Yes, I know that FerretLax or even petroleum jelly is more indicated in a situation like this, but I didn't want to stress her. I know she'll readily eat the 'Vite, but the 'Lax is a chore. Yeah, she likes the 'Vite.
I've been keeping an eye on her all day. She's been social, inquisitive, and distinctly un-Katy-like, but didn't seem distressed at all. When I changed the poo pads I noticed an odd structure to one mound. I called hubby over and asked "does that look like styrofoam?" He replied that it did. I can only assume that getting a mild laxative-like substance into her as soon as I noticed her eating the wrong stuff was the best possible thing I could have done. Would she have passed more styrofoam if I'd given her 'Lax? Maybe. There's no real way to know how much of the stuff she ate, though.
The simple truth is that ferret-proofing is an endless job. We may think we've got everything out of reach, then they'll surprise us. Hubby had said to me yesterday "You know Bug's up on that top shelf in there." What? I went in, picked him up, and put him on the floor. I then stood near the back of the recliner as he showed me how he'd gotten up there. *sigh* He'd climbed one of the recliners, then JUMPED from the back of the recliner onto a nearby shelf. Once I saw him do it I knew how to rearrange the furniture, but I didn't know he could, or would, get up there. Oh, while he was on that shelf he found a clay pot full of soil. One of my houseplants didn't make it in hibernation over the winter, and the pot was still there. Bug had a GREAT time digging in it. Then he proved to me that even if he couldn't get on the top shelf he could still get on the second shelf. Oy!
Yeah, ferret-proofing is an endless job.
