Once upon a time, a long time ago (well, maybe it was just in the spring, but you get my drift), Rea decided that her life would not be complete without a ferret. That kid launched a no holds barred assault on the entire household, she researched those playful little rodents up one side and down the other, complete with a seven page manifesto explaining just exactly WHY she needed a ferret.
Rea pestered her Dad into taking her to the pet store so she could peer at them in their cages; she searched for pre-owned ferrets on Petfinder.com and then eventually in an effort to prove that she was responsible enough to care for one, she made arrangements to ferret sit for our neighbors while they were on vacation.
So, one beautiful spring afternoon, Pavol, a geriatric, diabetic, ferret became Rea's roommate for a week; the old weasel proved to be pretty laid back – quiet, gentle, polite and spent 95% of his time sleeping in his little red hammock. But, friends. That ferret STUNK like nobody's business, the stench met your nose at the front door and it was overwhelming. And if the smell wasn't problem enough, Oscar and Vivi spent the entire week lurking outside Rea's door just waiting for the chance to make a snack out of Rea's guest.
I tell you all of that to simply set the stage for the part where we became Evil Parents. Parents that absolutely, positively refused to allow Rea to have a ferret – and any passing interest that I may have expressed in ferrets in past was OVER.
I am happy to report though, that détente was achieved and this…