Post by greta on May 5, 2009 22:55:42 GMT -5
4His name was Tuffy. And he lay so quietly, snuggled in the sweat shirt in his cage the lady walking past him thought the cage was empty.
It was May 13, 2001, and the lady had come into the ferret shelter with two of her grown children to look for a companion for a feisty little DEW girl named Nada. The lady and her kids passed cage after cage of ferrets, mostly females, but none of them seemed to be the right age or the right temperament to become a sister to the little DEW girlie who was now peeking curiously at her surroundings through the carrier door the lady held in her hand.
Then Norm, the shelter manager, approached the lady and asked what kind of ferret she had in mind. "I'm looking for a ferret around two years of age who will be a good companion for my Naughty Nada," said the lady. "Male or female doesn't matter, just as long as they get along together. Nada is feisty so she should have a playmate that can interact with her and handle her rough approach to play. I'd also like a ferret who is healthy, as my funds are limited and vet costs can be high." Then Norm began to ask questions of the lady concerning which veterinarian was in charge of Nada's care, what the lady fed Nada, what size her cage was, and other questions that led up to knowing whether this lady was a responsible ferret owner. A phone call to Nada's vet and Norm returned to the lady.
"I think I may have what you're looking for," said Norm, as he turned and headed for the 'empty' cage by the entrance door to the shelter. And Norm came back carrying a large, chocolate male fuzzy in his arms named Tuffy.
Nada and Tuffy were introduced in a glass playpen in the back room of the shelter and although Nada seemed a bit protective of her space, the two ferrets were getting on without any aggressive behavior. But then Nada began making the choking sound she often made at home when the lady wasn't paying enough attention to her little DEW girl. Mom had always run to Nada, opened her mouth and checked inside to see what was making her little one choke, when she heard this sound. A shelter lady turned toward Nada when she heard this and said, "She's barking! Is Nada deaf?" "Deaf?" said the lady. "No, not that I know of. She often does this at home." It looked as if Tuffy was the perfect companion for Nada and the lady announced that she would like to adopt him.
note: Nada was deaf. The lady had been owned by this little Munchkin for 6 months without her suspecting her baby couldn't hear.
While the adoption papers were being signed and the lady's children were paying the shelter fee for Tuffy (it was Mothers' Day), Norm mentioned that Tuffy had been rescued by the shelter on May 5. A light went on in the lady's head. "May 5th. Cinco de Mayo," she said. And Tuffy's name was changed instantaneously.
After half an hour of waiting whle the shelter staff made sure Cinco de Mayo was not going to react to the distemper injection they had given him and his nails had been trimmed, the lady held Cinco in her arms and was surprised at his weight and the furry warmth of his heavy fur coat. She tucked him lovingly in the Sherpa carrier which had been outfitted with bedding, a litter pan, a food bowl, a water bottle and a few toys. Then she commented about Cinco's safety for the 90 mile trip back home. The carrier didn't have the ventilation openings that Nada's carrier was equipped with. The shelter staff reassured the lady that Cinco de Mayo would be just fine and told her not to worry.
Cinco and Nada bonded within three days and in less than a week were sharing the 3 level cage that had once belonged only to Nada. Nada even shared her warm, pocketed hammy with Cinco and loved to cuddle into the warmth of his soft fur. Cinco had come a long way from being rescued from the streets of Chicago to a new home of his own with a best friend girlie and a mommy who loved him with all her heart.
This boy became the papa of the lady's business as more ferrets were introduced to the home over the ensuing years. And he lived a happy, contented and healthy life for over seven more years with his forever family. THE END
It was May 13, 2001, and the lady had come into the ferret shelter with two of her grown children to look for a companion for a feisty little DEW girl named Nada. The lady and her kids passed cage after cage of ferrets, mostly females, but none of them seemed to be the right age or the right temperament to become a sister to the little DEW girlie who was now peeking curiously at her surroundings through the carrier door the lady held in her hand.
Then Norm, the shelter manager, approached the lady and asked what kind of ferret she had in mind. "I'm looking for a ferret around two years of age who will be a good companion for my Naughty Nada," said the lady. "Male or female doesn't matter, just as long as they get along together. Nada is feisty so she should have a playmate that can interact with her and handle her rough approach to play. I'd also like a ferret who is healthy, as my funds are limited and vet costs can be high." Then Norm began to ask questions of the lady concerning which veterinarian was in charge of Nada's care, what the lady fed Nada, what size her cage was, and other questions that led up to knowing whether this lady was a responsible ferret owner. A phone call to Nada's vet and Norm returned to the lady.
"I think I may have what you're looking for," said Norm, as he turned and headed for the 'empty' cage by the entrance door to the shelter. And Norm came back carrying a large, chocolate male fuzzy in his arms named Tuffy.
Nada and Tuffy were introduced in a glass playpen in the back room of the shelter and although Nada seemed a bit protective of her space, the two ferrets were getting on without any aggressive behavior. But then Nada began making the choking sound she often made at home when the lady wasn't paying enough attention to her little DEW girl. Mom had always run to Nada, opened her mouth and checked inside to see what was making her little one choke, when she heard this sound. A shelter lady turned toward Nada when she heard this and said, "She's barking! Is Nada deaf?" "Deaf?" said the lady. "No, not that I know of. She often does this at home." It looked as if Tuffy was the perfect companion for Nada and the lady announced that she would like to adopt him.
note: Nada was deaf. The lady had been owned by this little Munchkin for 6 months without her suspecting her baby couldn't hear.
While the adoption papers were being signed and the lady's children were paying the shelter fee for Tuffy (it was Mothers' Day), Norm mentioned that Tuffy had been rescued by the shelter on May 5. A light went on in the lady's head. "May 5th. Cinco de Mayo," she said. And Tuffy's name was changed instantaneously.
After half an hour of waiting whle the shelter staff made sure Cinco de Mayo was not going to react to the distemper injection they had given him and his nails had been trimmed, the lady held Cinco in her arms and was surprised at his weight and the furry warmth of his heavy fur coat. She tucked him lovingly in the Sherpa carrier which had been outfitted with bedding, a litter pan, a food bowl, a water bottle and a few toys. Then she commented about Cinco's safety for the 90 mile trip back home. The carrier didn't have the ventilation openings that Nada's carrier was equipped with. The shelter staff reassured the lady that Cinco de Mayo would be just fine and told her not to worry.
Cinco and Nada bonded within three days and in less than a week were sharing the 3 level cage that had once belonged only to Nada. Nada even shared her warm, pocketed hammy with Cinco and loved to cuddle into the warmth of his soft fur. Cinco had come a long way from being rescued from the streets of Chicago to a new home of his own with a best friend girlie and a mommy who loved him with all her heart.
This boy became the papa of the lady's business as more ferrets were introduced to the home over the ensuing years. And he lived a happy, contented and healthy life for over seven more years with his forever family. THE END
