It’s Friday and that means you’re getting another installment of “Debbie”.
This time you’re getting page three. Not to worry, for those who came in late, page one and two are included, so nobody is missing out.
My name is Debbie, and I’m a ferret.
You know what a ferret is, right? Have you ever seen a picture of a ferret? Please don’t say that ferrets look like rats. I’m nothing like a rat, and I’ll take it as insult if you compare me to one!
For starters, rats are rodents, while ferrets are more highly evolved in the animal world.
Rats are very active creatures, always scurrying after something.
Ferrets have a much more relaxed lifestyle. We like to take things easy. Did you know that we sleep, on average, 17 to 20 hours a day?
Other than that, rats are not exactly the prettiest animals in the world, are they? But ferrets definitely are. I mean, look at my picture, am I cute or what?
Whenever humans looked at me and my friends, they stopped in their tracks, peered into our cage, and said, “Oh look at these adorable ferrets!” They would comment on our pretty little pink ears, tiny black beady eyes, pert little pink nose and short little legs.
My fur is a mixture of the same sand color as that of my friends, but with touches of black. I even have a black stripe over my eyes. People would say that I look like a bandit. Hmm … perhaps that would be an appropriate name for me, as ferrets are thieves by nature. Well, not actually thieves, let’s just say that ferrets like to collect things and then hide them!
But that was not the case. As it turned out, when I was adopted, my new owner had a proper name ready for me He picked me up, held me at eye level and said “Hello cutie, I’m Andrew. What shall I call you?” His eyes squinted a bit and he cocked his head to the side before he suggested, “How about Debbie?”
Fine by me, I liked the name Debbie. Aren’t there movie stars or celebrities named Debbie?
Andrew, a tall human with red hair and green eyes, bought me a handsome metal cage, wood curls to line the bottom, a flowery velvet hammock to sleep in, a bag of dry food pellets especially for ferrets, some toys, and a litter box for ... hmmm, well, you-know-what.
Home was a condo on the 15th floor. Through the holes in my box, I saw a large sunny room. Keep in mind that, small as I am, everything seemed a bit overwhelming to me.
My cage was placed in one of the rooms, and I saw Andrew taking my food into another room.
And then, gasp! I was taken out of the box.
Whoa, but the place was spacious! Being inside the box didn’t give me a true perspective on the size of the room. Once I was out of it, the room seemed enormous. Scared and intimidated, I cowered low to the ground.
“Welcome to your new home Debbie,” Andrew said, picking me up. “Shall I show you around? This is my bedroom. This is where I sleep at night.”
As Andrew started walking, I got the feeling that I was gliding through the air. He took me from room to room, complete with explanations. Let me see if I remember them all: there was a guest bedroom where visitors slept; a bathroom where Andrew washed himself; a kitchen where meals were prepared and the dishes were washed; and a living room which was, as Andrew said, for hanging out. “And that,” Andrew said, still holding me as we were back in the living room, “is the balcony. Want to see?”
Did I have a choice?
He opened a floor-to-ceiling sliding door and stepped outside.
Good grief! We must have been high up, because I could see for miles and miles!
“We’re on the 15th floor,” Andrew said, moving closer to the edge of the balcony. “Here, have a look.”