Bun doesn’t go out much, but whenever I take him out for an outing, it’s always about dirt.  Like any ferret I’ve met, he loves to dig.  In this case, he dug backwards and around in circles.

Ferrets know a little bit about doors and what magic they perform.   Close your bathroom door for some privacy, and a ferret is sure to appear, scratching to get in.  Why is this?  Well, they’re just so curious they can’t stand the idea that something exciting might be happening in there, and they’re missing it.

Also, doors provide treats in many forms. A case in point would be the food gifts that come forth when humans open the refrigerator door.  In a ferret’s world, doors have possibilities, especially when they go from closed to open.

After Bun’s First Outing, he sat by the french doors out of which his adventure began, hoping he’d get to go out through them again.  That one time, boy did those doors produce great things.  Bun got to rub in some real dirt, snake through the plants, and get lots of whiffs.

So, for my ferrets at least, doors are magical, powerful, and full of possibilities, all good.  So what does it mean when ferrets leave messages on thresholds of doors?  After Bun’s Second Outing, he left a message on the threshold of the door we had gone through.  He’s done it before, after someone had left for the day.  An old ferret used to leave messages frequently, at the threshold of the main door to our apartment.  It seems to be linked to having just gone through that door…today Bun seemed to be saying, I know how you get out there, and just letting you know that I know.  And I’m jealous, so here’s a quick note to remind you that I’m jealous.

It’s true, it’s like they want the door to open again, want the magic to occur, so they communicate this with a poop message.   They are posting messages right where you’ll be sure to see them when you’re exercizing your enviable ability to move between the inside and the outside worlds.

Hippie doesn’t get out much, and to tell you the truth he’s not all that interested in venturing beyond the five walls of our half-hexagon shaped apartment.  He’s a tough old guy, and he’s seen the harsh side of life.  Having been abandoned by his previous owners and left caged in the night outside the shelter in oppressive tropical swelter, he knows the dark side of life.

Anyway, we recently took Hippie to the beach, on what was supposed to be a fun outing for all.  Bun went too, on his very first excursion outside the home.  Having become frail and balding, Pig stayed home and attended to her roach army.

Like a sour old man who’s lost joy in the newness and strangeness of life’s surprises, Hippie didn’t give one s*%t about the beach.  Bun did what all ferrets seem to do when we let them loose near water: head for the hills.  So, while one of us chased Bun the other had to hold Hippie, who would also scurry inland from the ocean, after having taken a quick whiff at the water’s edge.  He’d make it as far as the tall grasses behind the sand, then have to be hoisted up by his shoulders before he tunneled away out of site.  They both hated it.   Here’s Hippie after being scooped up just before he made it to the border (i.e. sidewalk).