Follow along with the video below to see how to install our site as a web app on your home screen.
Note: This feature may not be available in some browsers.
I think Lori needs one.
I'm pretty sure with 4 dogs here, it wouldn't last long.
Let see 'em.
Olivia:
Oliver:
Yes they are.
Do you have dogs or furry things that go in a purse?
How old do they live to?
Ha!
Oliver is five months old; Olivia is almost five years old. They don't really play, mostly because Olivia has been an only-ferret for too long. Oliver plays with the 50lbs dog all day.
And humans are more stinky than a de-scented ferret.
When we got the pair we were advised to get them in pairs. (we still need to get sasha a playmate of her own age)
They bond strongly. From what we've read, it's not uncommon for a ferret to grieve themselves to death when their partner dies. That's why we picked up a third ferret. The other two are aging, and when one dies, we wanted the second to still have someone.
I love how ferrets play. They do the little war dance, and jump around. Sometimes they wrestle with each other, and chase each other around. Sasha is more vocal and chirps when she plays. Ferra hisses at her.
We let them out at night to play for a couple hours. Then will find them sleeping in a drawer, or box, or wherever is dark and cozy.
...Tad lays the suitcase on the floor and flips the latches, then stands back. "Let him out," he says. You lift the top. Things happen quickly after that. The animal sinks its teeth into your hand. You jerk your hand away. There's a foot of ferret still attached. The pain is terrific. You shake your arm savagely, fling the thing toward Tad. Fred tears a swath out of Tad's pants leg before landing on the floor, careening around the room, upsetting boxes and finally holing up in the bookshelf behind a row of bound volumes of Scientific American.
Your hand is on fire. It is connected by red-hot wires to your brain, which is throbbing inside your skull. You shake your arm, spattering little red droplets on the walls. Tad's face is white. He leans down and gingerly examines the tear in his pants just below the crotch.
"Good Christ! One more inch..."
He is interrupted by a thump on the door...