When I lived in Washington, I somehow became obsessed with ferrets. I read ferret websites constantly. Care sites, ferret homepages, pages "written by" ferrets. I joined mailing lists so I could talk about ferrets with people who shared my obsession. And believe it or not, I joined the Washington State Ferret Association for a little while, as well.

I researched about ferrets for many, many months before deciding I wanted one. I also broke a cardinal rule of pet ownership: When I thought having a ferret wouldn't be safe in a house with a dog, I got another pet instead... a pair of ground squirrels. I'll have to write about that sometime, as well. It didn't work out, for several reasons, and I took them back to the store. I'd never stopped wanting a ferret. Lesson learned: When you really, truly want something, don't settle for anything less. Or more to the point, NEVER get a replacement animal when it's not what you really want.

I looked and looked, and then I found Martin. My beautiful Martin. I was amazed at how happy I was with him in my life. And he was fine with a dog in the house. The dog never knew he was there, and I just kept my bedroom door shut. All was well! Of course, Martin needed a friend, and that's how Dean became part of our lives, too. Dean and Martin. What a pair! I loved them deeply. And when you love someone so much, you do what's best for them, no matter how much it hurts. I gave them to Richard, who has always been as obsessed and in love with ferrets as I was. In fact, I'd go so far as to say his obsession and love of ferrets exceeded my own! I gave my two little guys to Richard, because I couldn't risk being caught with them in California, where they're illegal. A 0.0000001% chance that they'd be euthanized was too much a risk for me to take.

I used to write to Richard often. I even visited once. Ferrets don't remember you so well, I don't think. Dean had already passed away from cancer when I visited. Martin didn't seem to care too much that we were there. That was a good sign, though. It meant he knew he was home. It's very weird to know your little friend is now someone else's pet.

How does time get away so fast? It had been over a year since I wrote to Richard. I didn't know if Martin was still alive. I knew I needed to know... I needed to know if he was okay and happy and well. So, I did it. Last night, I jotted off an email to Richard, hoping his email address was still the same, and hoping for good news.

Well, all my hopes came true! Martin is indeed alive and well. And these are the pictures Richard took and sent to me when he wrote me back this morning, when he told me not to stay away so long next time. They made my day. They made me cry in a few different ways... Because I'm so happy he's doing great, and because I miss him so very much.

Martin is five years old. He's Richard's ferret. But I just can't help it... Every time I see that sweet face, I'll always think of him as mine. My sweet, sweet Martin. I love him so much. He's weaseled his way into my heart and I have a feeling he'll stay there for good.

P.S. That's turkey baby food Martin's munching on. And in the group picture, Martin's the one on top of everyone... I think that's right, anyway!

P.P.S. Once, I went to a Ferret Festival! One girl had the cutest BABY ferret. She's lucky I didn't kidnap little Smokey! Here I am with him. And yes, this is what I looked like four and some-odd years ago...